La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "The Thing With Feathers" Edition

From 1967, please enjoy The Byrds performing (IMHO) David Crosby's masterpiece "Lady Friend."

That was a single in its day, and I wore out my 45 copy of it in the expectation that it would appear on the next Byrds album in stereo. Alas, that was when they kicked Crosby out of the band, and when the album -- The Notorious Byrds Brothers -- did finally come out, they omitted the single (and replaced Crosby in the album cover photo with a horse). I should add that the version heard in the video was first releaed on a 1987 comp of Byrds rarirties and remixes (Never Before), and Crosby insisted on replacing Mike Clarke's original drum part with the work of the guy in his then touring band.

But now to business. To wit...

The 1965 photo of The Byrds above represents the definitive exemplar of what a rock band should look like -- yes or no. And the absolute worst look for a rock band ever is...?

Discuss.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

Les Cœurs Perdus

From right here right now, please enjoy "Hate Yourself," the kick-posterior new single by Nashville rockers Lost Hearts.

I haven't quite figured out exactly how to categorize these guys -- rock? punk? glam? retro '80s? some organic mix of all of the preceding? -- and whatever they're doing is not usually my cup of pekoe. But for some reason, I found the above highly entertaining, probably because I just like their attitude. Which I guess makes it rock 'n' roll, right?

I should add that I am reliably informed that the band formed when four lead guitar players got together and they flipped a coin (heh) to see who would sing and play the drums and bass. Makes sense to me!

In any case, it's a very cool single (and video -- I want the front guy's black Les Paul gold top, BTW); they don't have an album yet, but as they get closer to one I'll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded the first reader who gleans the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's weekend essay question.

Closed for Computer-Related Monkey Business

We should be up and running before too long, but in the meantime our apologies.

Have no fear, however -- I'll be posting new music by a new band (on Thursday) in anticipation of the following day's weekend essay quewtion.

Your Tuesday Moment of Words Fail Me

Simels Rules -- anything with a gorilla suit is funny.

Actual new music posting resumes on the morrow.

The Torch Has Been Passed to a New Generation of Power Poppers

From earlier this year at SXSW in Austin, pleae enjoy The Zombies' classic "Care of Cell 44" in a once in a lifetime performance by legendary Zombies lead singer Colin Blunstone and youngsters Brian and Michael D'Addario of The Lemon Twigs.

Attentive readers are aware that I'm not completely objective about those kids, due to the fact that their parents are both musicians I've known (and occasionally worked with) since forever; their dad Ronnie, whose own music is terrific (you can hear more of it over HERE) is actually a sort of auxilliary Floor Model, fer cryin' out loud.

That said, here's the third single from their forthcoming (in May) self-produced album Harmony Forever...

...and I think you'll admit that's pretty darned impressive stuff, a certain amount of what SPY magazine referred to as "logrolling in our time" notwithstanding. (I love that 12-string solo, BTW.) Meanwhile, you can pre-order the new album (what are you waiting for?) at Amazon HERE. And yes, there's a vinyl version.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Ferry Cross the East River” Edition

From his splendid (just released) album A Big Life, please enjoy veteran pop/rock/guitar whiz Ed Ryan and his utterly addictive kick-ass confection "Settle Down."

Ed is an alumnus of the NYC music scene/explosion of the original CBGBs era; he was in at least two bands -- Day Old Bread and The Rudies -- that I'm pretty sure I saw back in my Bowery days. That new song above, to my ears, has a fabulous early Beatles vibe to it -- the verses sound like "Misery," n'est-ce pas? -- but then it veers off into a whole other more modern thing, and those chiming guitar figures at the end just kill me; if any of you guys can identify a specific record, by anybody, Ed's paying homage to there I'd be forever in your debt.

In the meantime, you can -- and very definitely should -- order A Big Life over at Kool Kat Muzik. You'll thank me.

But now on to business. To wit:

...and the rock band who made the most subtle or inventive use of their Beatles influences is/was...?

Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!

Jingle Jangle Morning Melodies

From 1990, please enjoy veteran alt-rockers The Connells and their haunting exhortation to "Get a Gun."

Those guys hailed from Raleigh, N.C. and if they're still down there, my sympathies; in any case, with the usual personnel changes over the years, they're still at it, and good for 'em. I should add that I was lucky enough to see them in a small club when they were touring that album (it was their foourth) and they killed, albeit in a sort of magisterial way. The album itself, which is still available, can be acquired over at Amazon HERE and is highly recommended.

Meanwhile, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded to the first reader who gleans the track's relevance to the theme of tomorrows Weekend Essay Question.

That's Ms. Wiliams If You're Nasty

And speaking as we were Monday of the incomparable Lucinda Williams, it struck me in retrospect that it was an error (and a downright cruel one at that) not to have included some music in the post.

So, from 1989 and the Rough Trade album in question, here's Lucinda and her simultaneously tear-duct stimulating and droll paean to "Passionate Kisses."

I bring this up because an old high school chum of mine recently informed me that an ex of his -- a Williams fan, 'natch -- used to refer to the song as...wait for it...

"Passionate Fishes."

Heh.

It's Weasels Time

From their 2014 album Blame the Victim, please enjoy my old garage band chums The Weasels and their darkly insinuating ode to a "Fine Time."

That was written and sung by our keyboard guy Glenn Leeds (who also did the drum programming); acoustic guitar is by (Jai Guru Dave) Hawxwell; Allan Weissman is on the bass; and some asshole whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels is on all the vaguely Keith Richards-ish electrics.

And in case you're wondering why I'm posting it -- hey, it was a slow day yesterday.

Video Killed the Magazine Star?

From the March 1989 issue of Stereo Review, here are my thoughts on Lucinda Williams' debut on Rough Trade. As you'll discover at the bottom of the post, I have a good reason for bringing it to your attention.

The first time I played the new Lucinda Williams album, I started to think about my late colleague Noel Coppage. Noel used to keep a list in these pages of what he called "Real People," an appellation that had nothing whatsoever to do with the early-Eighties TV show; instead, he was talking about performers, specifically musicians. To my knowledge, Noel never heard Lucinda Williams, although she's knocked around for over a decade, but if he had, or if he'd lived to hear her remarkable eponymous debut album, I'm sure he would have added Williams to his small, select list. This woman is as real as it gets.

The idiom here is basic rock, country, and blues. The songs, all written by Williams, except for one by Howlin' Wolf, are anecdotal, sharply observed, and by turns wry and poignant. But what makes them really special (not to discount the fine performances by her obviously simpatico band) is Williams herself: She has the kind of voice that suggests the rise and fall of empires as witnessed through the bottom of a shot glass. It's an instrument worthy of the Bonnie Raitt comparisons it most often draws, but there's an edge to Williams's singing, a raw, wounded, and utterly soulful quality, that also suggests a male honkytonker like Gram Parsons. As a result, Williams really doesn't sound like any other woman rocker currently working, and listening to her album was an experience that hit me about as hard as falling in love.

There are moments in Lucinda Williams that verge on the merely ordinary. "Crescent City," for example, rocks along quite nicely and is obviously felt, but it's a fairly prosaic reminiscence nonetheless. Mostly, though, the music will make you laugh ("Changed the Locks") or break your heart ("Abandoned"), sometimes both in the same song ("Passionate Kisses"). Even in an era when it's suddenly, suspiciously, fashionable to be a smart solo woman in rock, Lucinda Williams is clearly something special, and I suggest you hear it immediately. Meanwhile, Noel, I think we've got another Real Person here.

As I said up top, I have a good reason for foisting the above on you.

To wit: Late last week, out of the blue, I got an e-mail from an associate producer at CBS Sunday Morning who wanted to know if I in fact had written the line "She has the kind of voice that suggests the rise and fall of empires as witnessed through the bottom of a shot glass."

Because they were working on an upcoming profile of Williams, and they were thinking of quoting me on air. Ain't that a kick in the pants?

Anyway, he assured me he'd let me know if, in fact, my little bon mot made the cut (the segment is due to run in a couple of weeks). And of course, I'll let you guys know as well.

Can you tell I'm insufferably pleased about this?

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Tales From the Great White North" Edition

From 1972, please enjoy Canadian power pop greats The Wackers and their scintillatingly Beatle-esque shoulda-been-a-hit "I Hardly Know Her Name."

That's from the band's second album, which is one of the great lost exemplars of its genre; certainly, it's as good as anything, say, The Raspberries did around the same time. I should add that another track from Hot Wacks, a gorgeous cover of John Lennon's "Oh My Love" (that is one of to my knowledge only two rock songs ever featuring a lead guitar part played on a Japanese koto) is one of my all time fave things ever. Oh hell, hear it for yourself.

I should also add that Wackers founding member Bob Seagarini went on to a long and successful career as a deejay on Canadian radio; he also had a show on Sirius XM for a while, and apparently is still active in the field.

But now to business. To wit...

...and the most interesting rock band to hail from a non-English speaking country is...?

Discuss. (Okay, I'm having a little joke at the expense of our northern neighbors. So sue me.)

Meanwhile, have a great weekend, everybody!

The Tearaways (Part Deux): Samedi Tous les Jours

As I promised Monday, here's the official video to the second single from the forthcoming album by The Tearaways. Featuring Clem Burke (natch) on drums.

If that doesn't make you grin and/or bounce in yout seat, you really need to have it looked at.

Your Wednesday Moment of Words Fail Me

From upstate New York in 1967, please enjoy a genuine honest to god old fashioned Battle of the Bands.

If you're of a certain age, that's beyond Proustian, obviously.

I should add that I discovered that clip at YouTube purely by chance the other day, and that it seems to have been shot by somebody who worked at a local NBC affiliate, which probably explains the near professional quality of the video.

I should also add that the band doing the two Blues Project songs sounds impresively just like the real thing. Although my fave performance is by the group with the kid drummer who looks like Beaver Cleaver.

Altamont (The Song)

Sing to the tune of Joni Mitchell's "Woodstock."

I came upon this junkie creep, he was walking along the road/ I asked him where he was going, this he told me

I'm going down to Altamont, gonna sleep under the stars/ Rip tape decks out of cars/ And try to get into the show free

We are nitwits, we are bozos/ And I got to be at work on Monday

Oh can I walk beside you Because I have some stuff to sell/ Though it has a funny smell/ Cause it's been cut with horsecrap

Maybe I'll meet a man there I'll be yin and he'll be yang/ I could dig a 9-inch wang/ I won't tell him I got the clap from David Crosby

We are nitwits, we are bozos/ And I got to be at work on Monday

By the time I got to Altamont Not a campsite to be seen/ So I slept in the latrine/ The guy next to me was snoring

I dreamed I saw the bikers there/ With their chrome work bright and new/ Beating hippies with pool cues/ Cause they thought the show was boring

We are nitwits, we are bozos/ And I got to be at work again on Monday

That was written by an old friend (and producer/enginer of much of the Floor Models' stuff) Marc Moss; Gerry Devine, the singer from the Flo Mos, used to perform it to great effect at various folk clubs in Greenwich Village back in the day.

In any case, I think it's one of the funniest parodies of a sacred cow I've ever heard. Kudos, Marc.

The Tearaways Explain It All to You

NEW (ROCK-AND-ROLL) RULE:

Any Band Featuring Blondie Drummer Clem Burke is Automatically Worth Hearing!

Case in point: The Tearaways, featuring the aforementioned Burke, and who are seen below ripping it up in honor of three earlier drum greats.

So -- who are these guys, anyway?

Well, the short version is that they're a bunch of mostly Californian Brit Invasion/Power Pop-influenced vets who, at various times and in various line-ups, have been making great music (like the above) since the early '80s. In their most recent incarnation, they've toured all over, in preparation for...oh, just making a great new album -- produced by pesonal hero of mine Ed Stasium (Ramones, Talking Heads, Smithereens), and featuring guest keyboard wiz Benmont Tench -- which drops momentarily. I should add that the band's instantly addictive new single "Saturday Everyday" derives from same, and definitely behooves behearing.

The actual, official video of said single will be available for public consumption on Wednesday; I'll post it then and I guarantee you'll thank me.

In the meantime, you can find out more about The Tearaways over at their official website HERE.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "There is Nothing Like a Dame" Edition

From 1980, please enjoy Wisconsin power pop sensations The Shivvers and a killer live version of their cult hit "Teen Line."

I discovered these guys well after the fact -- I think a reader turned me on to them circa 2012 -- but when I first heard them I fell really hard. God only knows why they're not household words, but singer Jill Kossoris has one of those voices that apparently I was genetically bred to dig; it's the sort of nasal white suburban early Sixties Top 40 sound you hear on records like Diane Renay's "Navy Blue." In any case, the band broke up in 1982, without achieving the success they clearly deserved; Kossoris seems to have made an album in Nashville in 2000 (which I haven't heard) and there's an after the fact CD collecting everything they ever recorded which you can get at Amazon OVER HERE.

But now to business. To wit...

...and the most interesting pop/rock band ever fronted by a biologically female singer is...?

Discuss. (And don't gimme any of that Brandi Carlisle shit, because I don't wanna hear it.)

Have a great weekend, everybody!

An Early Clue to the New Direction: Special "Literary Notes From All Over" Edition

So as attentive readers are aware, I've decided to spend a great deal of my time this year compiling -- for publication in some format to be determined -- an anthology of my prose Greatest Hits. Here's a review I just rediscovered (from the July 1973 issue of CREEM) that will doubtless be included.

FANNY

Mother's Pride

Germaine Greer once observed that what the Women's Lib movement needed most was a distaff band that could lay down "a really heavy riff." Now regardless of whether or not you agree with that statement (about which more later) I am saddened to report that only the most cant-ridden female chauvinist could make such claims for Fanny and her All Girl Orchestra, at least on the basis of this latest collection of hot numbers. Saddened because there were moments on some of their other albums where they came reasonably close; stuff like "Charity Ball" and "Ain't That Peculiar" may not have had the capacity to destroy minds, but they were at least solid, enjoyable rock and roll, played with real spunk. But Mother's Pride is pretty much of a dud, despite (or maybe because of) producer Todd Rundgren's feverish attempt at making the whole thing sound as much like Abbey Road as possible. Somebody (I forget who) once said that if Fanny were men they'd be playing in bars, and this is the album that definitively proves the truth of that. Of course, there are plenty of musical macho types that have achieved vinyl immortality these days who should be playing in bars also, but that ain't much of a consolation.

Anyway, given that the vast bulk of the record buying audience is comprised of women (you don't think adolescent boys are shelling out dough for Donny Osmond records, do ya?) it seems almost futile for a group like Fanny to try to achieve stardom merely by competing with men at their own game; what they should be doing is inventing a whole new one, and I don't mean pursuing a really heavy riff. Rock and roll is as much an attitude as a music and what we really need is a female band that projects an attitude, a lifestyle, a militant man-eating sexiness. American men being the masochists that they are, I bet four dazzlingly glamorous tough chicks playing aggressive high-energy rock could absolutely clean up. Certainly, they would do more for the Lib movement than Fanny's wistfully depressing obsession with proving they're good musicians. Imagine, if you will, a female MC5 or Rolling Stones. I mean guys would be creaming in the aisles.

Meanwhile, I have decided -- regardless of all this -- that since Fanny drummer Alice de Buhr got her hair cut, she's become one of the all-time cuties. My number is Beechwood 4-5789, Alice. You can call me up for a date any old time.

Yeah, yeah, I know -- I'd probably (and justifiably) be ridden out of town on a rail if I wrote something like that today, but what the hell -- it was the early 70s and we were all a little over the top.

In any case, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded to the first reader who guesses its relavance to the theme of tomorrow's end-of-week essay question.

Songs I'd Forgotten I Loved (An Occasional Series): Special "The Golden Age of Electric Keyboards" Edition

From 1965, please enjoy the great but semi-obscure Beatles track "Tell Me What You See."

BTW, that's one of the rare Fab four numbers that we Yanks heard earlier than our former colonial masters -- it came out here (on the only-in-America Beatles VI) in June, while in England it didn't arrive (on the Help soundtrack) until August. As to why it's so generally overlooked is beyond me; it strikes me as sublimely Buddy Holly-ish, and that recurring piano solo is to die for.

I should add that said solo is performed (by Paul) on a Hohner Pianet; you can find pictures and more info about that remarkable instrument at Wiki OVER HERE.

Closed for Monkey Business

Hey, as you may have heard, I've had a busy couple of days in my real life due to some medical mishegass, so cut me some slack, jack. In any case, new music posting resumes on the morrow.

Great Bands Steal, Mediocre Bands Borrow

And speakng as we were last week of the fabulous Any Trouble, please enjoy -- from their 1980 debut album (on Stiff, natch) -- my personal favorite track, the ska/pop charner "Second Choice."

And from 1982, dig the equally fab The Floor Models and their equally insinuating live confection "She'll Make Up Her Mind."

As you will notice, those two tracks sound suspiciously similar, which is totally my fault. When our late great 12-string genius Andy Pasternack first presented us with the song, I immediately commandeered the arrangement, knowing that the guys had not yet heard the Any Trouble album and thus would have no idea I was pilfering from it. Later, after the resemblance had been pointed out to them, they looked at me and basically said, oh well, in for a penny, plaigarism-wise.

I liked them for that. I mean hell -- it wasn't like we were gonna be sued a la George Harrison.

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special “Most Beautiful Sound Occurring in Nature” Edition

From 1986, please enjoy Fire Town and their beyond glorious neo-folk rock jangle anthem "Carry the Torch."

The indie album that's from crossed my desk at Stereo Review unbidden one afternoon back in the day, and it will surprise nobody to learn that the main reason I gave it a spin right away was due to the Vox guitar posed so enticingly on the right hand side of the album cover.

As for Fire Town, they got signed soon after to Atlantic, who re-released the album; alas, it still refused to sell despite my raving about it in the pages of SR. Two of the band members, however, went on to form Garbage with Shirley Manson, and the rest, as they say, is history.

But now to business! To wit...

...and the most memorable use of an electric twelve-string guitar on a rock record is...?

Discuss.

Have a great weekend everybody!

An Early Clue to the New Direction

From 2007, please enjoy the great Any Trouble and their infectious and inspirational ode to "That Sound."

On Stiff Records, where they (and it) belong, I hasten to add.

Meanwhile, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be awarded to the first reader who gleans the song/video's relevance to the subject of tomorrow's end-of-week essay question.

When the Moon Comes Over the Mirren

Dame Helen on Conan O'Brien, 2008.

Okay, its not the greatest Keith Moon story ever, but I had never heard it, and it's pretty damn funny anyway. And, of course, Mirren.

In any case, I forget who said it, but it's true -- the Brits should have nationalized Moonie.

Die Lieden des jungen Dave Davies

From 1965, please enjoy Sir Ray's little brother Dave and his gorgeously weepy folk-rock lament "Wait 'til the Summer Comes Along."

I've been cryin all winter

I've been waiting for some good to come my way

But I'll wait tll the summer comes along

Dear lord have I done so much wrong

I've adored that song since forever for lots of reasons, not the least of which is that it's a wonderfully callow/pretentious Sensitive Kid's blues. Dave all but sobs the song's opening line, and the clear implication is that his life has been nothing but endless heartache, self-lacerating guilt and tragedy, and frankly what's the point of going on?

We note here, in passing, that the author of those Woe is Me! miserabilist lyrics was all of 17(!) at the time he wrote them. Not to mention a pop star fighting off hordes of adoring teenage girls.

Scenes From a Misspent Life

The following little trivia challenge has sort of gone viral at La Livre du Visage Facebook, or at least in the precincts I haunt there, so I thought I'd put my two centimes in and share it with you guys. Obviously, I'm curious about how you'd respond in the same categories, so please -- comment away!

FIRST CONCERT

The Beach Boys, Asbury Park Convention Hall, July 10 1965. Glen Campbell(!) was standing in for Brian, and they premiered(!!) "California Girls," which wouldn't get released to radio for another couple of days. I should add that this was the only Teen Scream show I ever attended.

MOST RECENT CONCERT

Robert Plant and Allison Krauss at Forest Hills Stadium, summer of 2022. I'm a fan, but the show struck me as a bit of a snooze. Maybe it was the humidity.

WORST CONCERT

Queen, the Beacon Theater (I think), 1973, touring the first album. The band arrived in NYC trailng clouds of hype; I had been moderately intriqued by the kitchen sink over-production of the debut record, and went into the show ready to be convinced. But boy, did they stink. The sound was heavy metal aural sludge (with a yowling lead singer up front who was way too impressed with himself) that resembled the album not at all. Every song sounded like every other song, and the whole act was massively headache-inducing; if there hadn't been a reliable headliner (can't remember who) on the bill, I would have fled the theater in mid-set. Obviously, I mellowed about Queen over the years as the radio hits kept coming, but it wasn't until the Bohemian Rhapsody film that I finally became a raving fan, mostly because of the memory of that 1973 live show. Boy, did they stink.

LOUDEST CONCERT

Blue Cheer, the Fillmore East, April 1968. Wall to wall Marshall amps (turned to eleven) employed as a weapon of torture by a trio of speed-freak-skinny biker punks who thought they were doing something socially valuable by transforming the surrounding air into cottage cheese. I endured their sonic assault from an 8th row center seat, and it was the only time I ever wished the Fillmore's justifiably celebrated sound system wasn't so good.

BEST CONCERT

The best single concert in a concert-going lifetime? Really?

ACT YOU'VE SEEN THE MOST TIMES

Not really sure, but if I had to guess, it would be either Springsteen, Southside Johnny, or The Smithereens (who used to play all the time at a club across the street from where I lived). It's a Jersey thing -- you would't understand.

SHOW YOU WISH YOU'D SEEN

The MC5, Lincoln Park, Chicago, August 1968 during the Democratic Convention and its attendant police riots. Never got to see the 5 anywhere else either, alas.

BAND YOU WISH YOU'D SEEN

Buffalo Springfield. I had tickets to see them at (I think) a Murray the K extravaganza in ' 67 or '68, but I got sick and missed it (one of the great regrets of my adult life). Runner up: The Bangles.

NEXT CONCERT

I have no idea. What am I -- Kreskin?

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special Chairman of the Board Edition

From 1967, and produced by the incomparable Glyn Johns, please enjoy The Easybeats and one of the great lost singles of its decade -- "Heaven and Hell."

And now to business. To wit...

If you had a band, and could have your band produced and/or engineered by any producer or engineer in rock history, it would be....who?

Discuss.

(I think you can guess from the producer credit above who my choice would be. Heh.)

Meanwhile, have a great weekend, everybody!

PS: I'm bringing this whole subject up because I just started Johns' autobiography Sound Man, which is a smashing read with more rock celebrity stories than you can shake a tape reel at; I highly recommend that you order it Amazon now.

Canadian Air Space Alert

Given how our neighbors to the north are suddenly in the news of late, I thought this might be an oldie worth revisiting.

Seriously, I'd forgotten how funny that is.

Meanwhile, fear not -- a fin de la semaine essay question on a non-Canuck related subject will close out the week tomorrow.

Closed For Monkey Business

Regular posting resumes tomorrow.

But while you're waiting, go check out a fabulous new Lemon Twigs video over at friend of PowerPop Sal Nunziato's invaluable Burning Wood blog right HERE.

The Greatest Thing in the History of Things

Okay, I may be over-selling it. But there's no question that what you're about to see and hear is a) transplendent and b) an artifact that defines the mission statement of this here blog better than anything I've encountered in what seems like ages.

So, without any further hoo-hah, from 2023 please enjoy The Weeklings and their near-genius power pop reimagining of The Beatles' classic "I've Just Seen a Face."

Face it, if that doesn't bring a smile to your lips and/or a tear to your eye, there's no hope for you. How do I love this? Let me count the ways. For starters, rhythmically it's pretty much straight ahead punk, albeit overlaid with gloriously inventive harmonies, and unlike the Rubber Soul original, which had a vaguely bluegrass feel, it rocks, and irresistably. I was also gobsmacked by how cleverly the band appropriated the Beatles' original guitar intro to serve as a new instrumental break. And then those women in the vid -- particularly the one doing the McCartney impression -- are too loveable for words; for the first time ever, I think I understand what it must have been like to be a teenage girl losng their shit over four adorable moptops back in the day.

Incidentally, if you're not familiar with the Weeklings (as I wasn't, really, until a week or so ago), they're a bunch of rock lifers fronted (sort of) by Glen Burtnik (the guy on the left with the hat), who's a former member of Styx, a fixture on the Asbury Park music scene (he's worked with Little Steven, Bruce and all those folks), and a songwriter whose stuff has been recorded by the likes of Randy Travis, Patty Smyth and Don Henley. I don't know who the women guesting in the video are, but you can bet your bippy I'm gonna find out.

Meanwhile, to glom lots more Weeklings stuff, including how to check out more of their music, you need to head over to their official website HERE.

Oh, and have I mentioned that the first time I watched the vid, I immediately played it five more times in a row?

Burt Bacharach: The Brill Building Meets Les Six

A great musician (not to mention, as a friend of mine once oserved, a rather spectacular advertisement for what used to be called the Good Life) has passed.

Given the breadth of his body of work, the following Bacharach Top Five -- songs or performances or both -- is not meant to be definitive; in fact, it's wildly subjective, and, depending on the weather, I could easily change my picks on any given day. As of right this moment, however, these are my faves, and my life would be the poorer without any of them.

5. Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach -- I'll Never Fall in Love Again

Yeah yeah, it's from Austin Powers and it's self-consciously campy. I still say it's a gorgeous performance of a gorgeous song.

4. Dusty Springfield -- Wishin' and Hopin'

A lot of people consider Dusty to be Bacharach's premier interpreter, and I wouldn't necessarily disgree. Obviously, the sexual politics of this one are problematic for some killjoys of late, but the combination of innocence and yearning Springfield projects here remains a marvel.

3. Sandie Shaw -- (There's) Always SomethingThere to Remind Me

The great Sandie, and this one just screams Swinging London, IMHO. Hell, it's such a terrific song it survived the soulless 1983 synth-pop cover by the justly forgotten Naked Eyes.

2. Aretha Franklin -- I Say a Little Prayer

Dionne Warwick, who is the singer most closely identified with Bacharach, had the hit with this song, deservedly, but Aretha adds a gospel piano that takes it somewhere else. Just great, in any case.

And speaking of...

1. Dionne Warwick -- Trains and Boats and Planes

That electric piano/twangy guitar riff just slays me. And for my money this is one of the most haunting pop records ever made.

Oh -- and just because...

BTW, my titular reference to Les Six has to do with the fact that -- before he became one of the most awesome pop songwriters of the second half of the 20th century -- Bacharach studied composition with Darius Milhaud, the de facto leader of a group of simpatico French post-Impressionist classical guys who hung with the likes of Jean Cocteau; I suspect the subtle Gallic tinge you can detect in some of Burt's orchestral arrangements -- particularly his use of winds and horns -- is largely attributable to Milhaud's tutelage.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special Genre Confusion Edition

Once again, let me send out a huge thank you to everybody who visited this newly reactivated blog last week. I love you guys more than food.

But now to the business at hand. To wit:

Is the above Spoonful classic -- "You Didn't Have to Be So Nice" -- (proto)power pop or not?

Discuss.

PS: Some venerable readers may recall that I first raised this question to NYMary, shortly after she gave me the metaphorical keys to the car around here. But I can't recall what conclusion we reached at the time. I will say, however, that this is the first song the Floor Models played live before an unsuspecting audience, and that -- up on the stage at least -- it sure as hell struck my ears as power pop.

Okay, now that we've got that clarified, thanks again for stopping by --and have a great weekend, everybody!!!

PS: The great Burt Bachrach's passing caught me by surprise; I'll have nore to say on the man and his work on Monday.

George Santos Still Hasn’t Found What He’s Looking For

Words fail me.

In case you're wondering, the clip above is from the legendary 2011 flop Broadway, er, musical Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark, a show which almost achieved its apparent goal of destroying the careers of genius director Julie Taymor (of The Lion Kng fame) and U2's Bono and The Edge, who wrote the alleged score.

Let me repeat -- words fail me.

In any case, it has long puzzled me how this turkey -- which cost 75 million(!) -- ever made it past the first cold reading of the script. I mean, a Spiderman musical-- really? But the mystery may at last have been solved.

To wit: Gorgeous George Santos.

Yup, him, the freshman Republican congressman from Long Island with the vivid fantasy life. I know, I know...I didn't have him pegged as a patron of the arts either, but apparently during his 2020 campaign George (AKA Milli Brazilli) told people he had been one of the producers of the aforementioned extravaganza. Like so many of George's claims, this can't be verified (for obvious reasons, everybody who actually saw the show burned their Playbills shortly thereafter) but I'm gving him the benefit of the doubt on this one. After all, it seems weirdly appropriate that George (if that is his name) has the theatrical equivalent of a black thumb.

Have I mentioned that words fail me?

Unknown Blues Singers Rule!!

Swear to God -- odious rightwing Brit tabloid rag the Daily Mail headlined Bonnie Raitt's upset Grammy win for Best Song as the work of "an unknown(!) blues singer."

Hey Daily Mail -- give your headline writer a bloody raise!

That said, if you were around these precincts on Monday, you may have gathered, correctly, that I am not now, nor have ever been, a fan of the Grammys. And as for Raitt in particular, although cognizant of her unquestionable natural gifts -- she's a great singer and guitarist -- I've always been kinda meh where her records are concerned. I mean, I wouldn't change the station if the stuff from Nick of Time came on the radio back in 1989, but none of those songs really spoke to me. And don't get me started on "Angel From Montgomery"; frankly, if I ever hear THAT again I'll take a freaking hostage.

But damn, girl...

...that's a stunning, heartbreaking adult piece of songcraft, and a great performance; Raitt thoroughly deserved the award for it.

And fear not -- I won't be posting that 50 Pastel Shades of Banal Dear Diary Faux Confessional Teen Pop crap (by Taylor Swift) that Raitt was up against by way of comparison.

Lest it die of inadequacy, obviously.

Worst Ever Album Track by a Major Artist/Band: (An Occasional Series): Special “The Sound of Your Brain Pan Frying” Edition

I dunno -- is it too soon?

I mean, I was as saddened by David Crosby's death as the next guy. But this, er, song was born dopey. As the saying goes, one would need a heart of stone not to snort derisively if it came on the radio.

“All They Do In This Town is Give Awards. Best Fascist Dictator — Adolf Hitler!”

In case you're wondering, no, I didn't watch last night's Grammy Awards.

If truth be told, I have something of a fraught relationship with the Grammys. I actually attended the 1978 ceremony, on the theory that you should never pass up the chance to get into a show at Radio City Music Hall for free; I don't remember much about the proceedings except that surprise guest Neil Diamond joined Babs Streisand for a rousing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" and that I mostly fidgeted in my seat thinking "what the fuck am I doing here?" the whole time.

Then, a couple of years later, I threw caution to the winds and did a snarky meditation on the Grammys (for Stereo Review, natch), the tone of which can be gleaned from the opening question it posed --

Q: Why are the Grammys named after the obsolete gramophone rather than the contemporary phonograph?

A: Because otherwise they would have to be called the Phonies.

I went on to describe the awards -- perhaps intemperately -- as "spectacularly corrupt," which, it turned out, struck Mike Greene, the then president of the Recording Academy, as objectionable; he threatened to sue SR if we didn't take it back, so I dutifully penned a craven mea culpa which ran in the next issue and demonstrated the flexibility of my convictions. Heh.

Oh well. Meanwhile, from a 2008 episode of Family Guy, here's the funniest parody of the Grammys ever

I should also add that Warren Zanes, of the Del Fuegos, had a very nice Grammy op-ed piece in last Saturday's Times that is, commendably, less cynical than I would have been, and it's well worth reading. Which you can do over HERE.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question

Let me start with a huge thank you to everybody who stopped by this here newly active blog in the last two days; I really lack the words to express my gratitude, and I'm getting verklempt so I'll just leave it at that.

Meanwhile, FYI -- for reasons I won't bore you with, I have to type this (and the next few weeks' posts) with one finger on an IPad Mini, so I can't really insert graphics or music links. Thanks in advance for your patience until this is, er, resolved.

That said, it's time to move on to the business at hand, to wit --

And Your Favorite Cover of a Chuck Berry Song (That ISN'T by the Beatles or the Stones) is...?

Discuss.

I should add that a Coveted PowerPop No-Prize™ will be awarded to the first reader who picks the one I'm thinking of.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

Watch This Space!

We've been MIA due to health problems, but we should be moving and grooving with our normal panache by the end of the month.

Thanks for your patience, and stay tuned for more Power Pop goodness...we've got tons of stuff to share with you.