La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "The Times They Are A-Changin' -- Into What, I Have No Freaking Idea" Edition

A friend writes:

Wow.

So I went back and read the lyrics to "Dawn of Correction" - the answer record to Barry McGuire's Top Ten 1965 protest hit "Eve of Destruction." By a studio group called The Spokesmen.

"DOC" was seen at the time as the ultimate anti-hippie song.

But in light of where we are now...It's wild at how far the MAGA Goons have gone.

Complete verses here - check the underscored/bolded lyrics:

You tell me that marches won't bring integration
But look what it's done for the voter registration
Be thankful our country allows demonstrations
Instead of condemnin', make some recommendations
I don't understand the cause of your aggravation
You mean to tell me, boy, it's not a better situation?
So over and over again, you keep sayin' it's the end
But I say you're wrong, we're just on the dawn of correction

You missed all the good in your evaluation
What about the things that deserve commendation?
Where there once was no cure, there's vaccination
Where there once was a desert, there's vegetation
Self-government's replacing colonization
What about the Peace Corp. organization?
Don't forget the work of the United Nations

Whew.

Wow indeed.

I mean really -- I remembered "DOC" as a laughable right-wing unhip Archie Bunkerish piece of shit, but upon relistening it seems like...jeez, the voice of sensible reason, at least in the context of the times we're currently enduring/living in. Kind of a mind boggler, actually,

And speaking of mind bogglers, have I mentioned that "DOC" was written by -- wait for it -- the team of John Medara and David White, who earlier wrote Danny and the Juniors' immortal anthems "At the Hop" and "Rock-and-Roll is Here to Stay"(!) and (later) Lesley Gore's proto-feminist(!) classic "You Don't Own Me."

Have I said wow?

Okay, moving right along, and politics aside, I must confess that I wasn't a fan of the original Barry McGuire record.

I thought the lyrics were trite, McGuire's vocal an unintentional parody of earnest folkie bullshit, and that the instrumental backing (granted, by the incomparable Wrecking Crew) was vastly inferior to the kind of then current Dylan-inspired folk-rock I dug, i,e, The Byrds or The Turtles.

In fact, my old band The Floor Models used to do an obviously tongue-in-cheek live version of it back in the day -- courtesy of our twelve-string genius Andy Pasternack, who switched one of the lyrics to...

"You may leave here for four days in space/
But when you return you can't find a parking place."

Heh.

Bottom line is, I never took the original as anything more than borderline kitsch. Until, that is, this 1984 cover by New Orleans punksters Red Rockers showed up on my MTV..

...and blew me away. I mean -- that's just fucking great, on every level. And I remember thinking -- why didn't we have the smarts to do it like that first?

Oh well. C'est la vie.

Which leads us to the weekend's business. To wit:

(A)...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis protest song (or topical song in general) is...???

And (B)...as recorded by who???

My fave, in case you haven't guessed, is Pete Seeger's great anti-nuclear war song. In the version by some mook whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels.

Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

[h/t Roadmaster]

Closed for Monkey Business: Special "If Only I Had Taylor Swift's Work Ethic" Edition

Friday's Weekend Essay Question post has turned out to be a much bigger and more time-consuming effort than anticipated, so nothing today. Sorry.

It'll be worth the wait, honest.

You Can't Copyright a Title (An Occasional Series)

From 1971, it's The Rolling Stones and "Bitch."

And from 1997, it's Meredith Brooks and, er, a "Bitch" of a different collar, if you'll pardon the rather too forced Oz joke.

I bring this up because I had completely forgotten the Brooks song until yesterday, when it came on the sound system at my local watering hole and I thought -- is Alannis Morissette making a comeback?

In any case, I decided that it's pretty cool that there are actually two different great guitar-driven rock songs with the same moniker.

Well, okay -- a great one and and a not terrible one.

Interesting historical irony: Apparently Brooks opened for the Stones in Argentina in 1998 on two consecutive afternoons, and on day one she got booed off the stage for some reason. The following day, she was booed off again, but before exiting, she performed her "Bitch" as a Fuck You! to the audience. I have not been able to determine if the Stones did their "Bitch" later in the show.

Today We Are a Blurb: Special "Klaatu Barada Nikto!" Edition

In case I haven't mentioned it previously, the incomparable Willie Nile has a brilliant new live album out...

...and as you can see, I am honored to have my review -- succinct and, I think, accurate -- gracing the shrinkwrap.

Here's my favorite track, "The Day the Earth Stood Still." An epochal rocker (originally on Willie's 2021 studio album of the same name)...

...that not only kicks major ass but whose lyrics do total justice to the great sci-fi film of the same name. (The 1951 original, not the misbegotten Keanu Reeves remake).

Long-time readers are aware of my enthusiasm for Willie's work; I remain convinced that his eponymous 1980 debut LP is one of the great folk/rock/punkish/jangle artifacts of its decade, and he's made several others easily in the same league. I should add that a glorious live show he did soon after said debut with his non pareil original band (recorded in Central Park for a radio broadcast that aired in NYC on the old WNEW-FM, if memory serves) is also eminently worth hearing; a CD of it can be ordered at Amazon over HERE, along with the rest of Willie's extensive catalog, and -- of course -- the new one.

BTW, if you're a creaky old person like me, and can't quite make out what I said about Live at Daryl's House Club -- as immortalized in that attractive yellow cover sticker -- without reaching for your reading glasses, just click on the photo and enlarge it. Sorry, I'm too lazy to reproduce it as text here.

POINT-COUNTERPOINT!!!

The Strokes, in 2006. "You Only Live Once."

Nancy Sinatra, in 1967. "You Only Live Twice."

How do you say "Jane, you ignorant slut!!!" in Yiddish?

Weekend Listomania: Special "Who Could Have Predicted That a Porn Star Would Save Democracy?" Bad Girls Edition

Well, it's Friday, and you know what that means.

Yes, it's time to take a pre-Passover break from the unprecedented morality play taking place in a courtroom in New York City for the next several weeks. I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I'n old enough to remember when a President got impeached over a blowjob, so despite my Trumpian animus (I couldn't get on the current jury, alas) the entertainment value of this new Trial of the Century is wearing a little thin for me.

Although I'll concede that Stormy Daniels is more fetching (heh) than Monica Lewinsky.

Okay, but with that out of the way, it's on to business. To wit:

Best or worst post-Elvis song featuring a disagreeable, mean, disreputable, disloyal or frankly criminal woman (of overly easy virtue) -- fictional or real life -- in its title or lyrics!!!

No arbitrary rules, although if you nominate the Donna Summers' hit or that Taylor Swift thing I'm tossing them just because.

And my totally Top of My Head Top Seven is...

7. Respectable (The Rolling Stones)

"She's a rag trade girl, she's the queen of porn/She's the easiest lay on the White House lawn"

Heh.

6. Centerfold (The J. Geils Band)

Your blood runs cold? Oh puhleeze guys -- are you boasting or complaining?

5. Maneater (Hall and Oates)

I dunno, I always thought the girl in this particular song was getting a bad rap.

4. Femme Fatale (The Velvet Underground + Nico)

Inspired by tragic Warhol superstar Edie Sedgwick, who I would definitely liked to have met. If you know what I mean.

3. You Know I'm No Good (Amy Winehouse)

This one gets bonus points for honesty, obviously. Equally obviously, Amy could have had me if she'd played her cards right, nice Jewish girl that she was.

2. She's So Mean (Matchbox Twenty)

I'm, shall we say, not (er) remotely a fan of this band, so as far as I'm concerned they deserved the titular beyotch.

And the Numero Uno shady dame in the history of recorded music absolutely has to be...

1. Stormy (Classics IV)

C'mon -- if you don't know why, you really haven't been paying attention.

Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Roll Over Jerry Lewis

Okay, this is too cool for words. Our friends The Lemon Twigs just made the cover of Rolling Stone -- the Gallic edition!!!

And while you're letting that sink in, here's the kids' latest song. Tres formidable, n'est-ce pas?

Now the only real question is how do you say "Gonna send five copies to my mother" in French?

Closed for (Ocular) Monkey Business

Had (non-emergency) laser surgery on my right eye yesterday.

Not walking into walls at the moment, so the chances are good that regular posting resumes on the morrow.

That Kool Kinks Kover I've Been Threatening to Post. Finally!!!

From just a few weeks ago, please enjoy unlikely supergroup Tall Poppy Syndrome and (IMHO) a verging on transplendent remake of The Kinks' 1970 album track "This Time Tomorrow."

The song itself first impinged on our consciousness on the fab/gear Kinks commercial comeback LP Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround Part One. This new version, which has a becomingly "Can't Explain"-power chord vibe, is performed by one of the more interesting and unexpected all-star assemblages of recent years, including guitarist Vince Melouney(!), original member of the (psych-era) Bee Gees, and the incomparable Clem Burke, of Blondie, and more recently of indie faves The Tearaways(!!), on drums. Guitarist Jonathan Lea, of the critically-acclaimed The Jigsaw Seen, and singer Paul Kopf and bassist Alec Palao of Strangers In A Strange Land and the current version of garage rock royalty The Seeds, are in there as well.

I dig the cover the most, but here's the original Kinks version by way of comparison. I think the new one more than does it justice, but YOU make the call.

I should add that if these Tall Poppy guys drop any other stuff in the not too distant future, I'll let you know toot sweet.

The Greatest Song Ever. I'm Not Kidding About This!!!

Okay, I realize this has nothing to do with the mission statement of this here blog, but it's so fabulous I couldn't resist.

Gay Frogs!!!!

And don't worry, despite the news and stuff happening in the real world, I'm not gonna go all political on you.

For example, that interesting new Kinks cover I mentioned last week is up tomorrow -- promise!!!

Have I mentioned GAY FROGS!!!!!????????

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "Post-Eclipse" Edition

From 1967, from the period when they weren't too proud to make blatantly entertaining pop singles aimed at the top of the charts, just like all the other great bands before the dirty hippies ruined rock-and-roll for a couple of years, please enjoy Traffic (featuring Stevie(!) Winwood, Dave Mason and those other guys) and the official video for their delightfully psychedelic ode to a "Paper Sun."

I had never seen that clip -- or even known it existed -- before yesterday, so I think you'll agree we're already ahead of the game.

But in any case, that brings us to the business at hand, inspired -- obviously -- by last Monday's celestial light show. To wit:

...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/country song referencing the moon or the lucky old sun in its title or lyrics is...??????

Discuss.

In case you're wondering what my picks are, here's one you may get a perverse kick out of. Dr. Feelgood and the Interns and their "Mr. Moonlight."

The Beatles' more famous cover of that -- which appeared on Beatles '65 in this country -- is, of course, by most people's reckoning the least popular track the Fabs ever did. I go back and forth on it, myself, but say what you will, at least it's faithful to the original. (Which, BTW, was a minor hit on the American charts, but not in the UK).

And if you're among the folks who dislike the song to the point of wondering why the Beatles bothered to record it in the first place, this amusing story about its performance history (from the lads' faithful road manager Neil Aspinall) provides a clue:

"'Mr. Moonlight' was great because there would be this moment of tension in the audience. The song would be announced and everybody knew John would have to start on that note -- MISTER! Moonlight!!! There was no chord to precede it, he had to get it right from nothing."

Showmanship!!!

Okay -- what would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Closed For Monkey Business

Having technical problems with YouTube.

Assuming they're resolved without incident, a pretty cool Fin de la Semaine Essay Question -- inspired by the major current event of the last few days -- will appeqr on the morrow.

Original Songs by Unoriginal Means? YOU Make the Call!!!

From right freaking now, please enjoy three chord wiseguy Dfactor Pop and his new but ironically retro ode to a "21st Century AI Man."

That speaks for itself, obviously, so for a change I'm not gonna wax overly descriptive. Except to say that it's a killer power pop record in the classic tradition and yet, obviously, relevant to life as we're currently living it. Very cool, in other words.

I should add that this lyrical snippet...

We used to dance wild and free

Back in the 20th century

...really speaks to me, if you know what I mean.

In case you're wondering who this guy is when he's at home (as they say), here's his becomingly brief official bio...

Dfactor Pop is a U.S. singer-songwriter (based in Phoenix, AZ) who writes, sings and records his cool, catchy guitar rock songs. His music is a mixture of melodic pop, power crunch chords, witty observant lyrics, and amped-up '60s garage rock, topped off with brash vocals and an enthusiastic DIY approach.

...which I assume is authoritative.

I should add that "21st Century AI Man" is the first single from Dfactor's upcoming full-length album, scheduled for this summer, and tentatively titled Cowboy Dfactor (take that, Beyonce!).

And to hear more from DFP, who seems to have been plying his trade for quite some time unbeknownst to me, hie thee to his Bandcamp page over HERE.

You're welcome.

How Such a Great Record Got to Be the Theme for Such a Cheesy Biker Flick is Beyond Me

From 1968, and the soundtrack to the otherwise justly forgotten exploitation epic The Savage Seven, please enjoy the maligned-by-me-yesterday Cream and their drop dead fabulous "Anyone for Tennis."

Seriously, immediately after I posted Monday's anti-Cream screed, I remembered how much I loved everything about the above and was consumed with guilt.

So mea culpa, Cream -- and may I just add that one of the many reasons that song knocks me out is this concluding lyrical snippet.

And Fate is setting up the chess board/while Death rolls out the dice

Anyone for tennis?

Wouldn't that be nice?

Which definitely falls into the category of "wish I'd written that."

Two additional little relevant bits of tid:

For years, I used to send people a mixtape CD I made called Great Lost Singles of the Sixties, and "Tennis" was usually the number one song in the playlist.

Also, the single version of it, on ATCO, was one of the very first 45 rpm records available in stereo. Which was kind of cool in that immediately post-Sgt. Pepper era, as you can well imagine.

I wore out my promo copy (which I swiped from my college radio station) pretty quickly, as you can also well imagine.

Your Monday Moment of Words Fail Me: Special "The Brewski That Made St. Louis Not Particularly Well Known" Edition

From approximately 1967/68, please enjoy psychedelic blues-wankers Cream -- yes, them -- and their actual radio spot that actually got aired on American stations in support of (what I remember as quite undrinkable) Falstaff Beer!

I should add at this point that, as you may have guessed, I am not now and have never been a Cream fan. Basically, I can listen to the live Wheels of Fire version of "Crossroads" and the exquisitely Beatle-esque "Badge" (from their final album) and that's just about it.

Yeah, yeah, I know they're great and historically important blah blah blah but the insurmountable problem for me, which I can/could never get past, is Jack Bruce's melodramatically florid over-singing.

Which, as you can hear so well in the above, sounds exactly like the Cantor at my Bar Mitzvah. And in a rock context, that just makes me laugh, which obviously is not the reaction the band was going for.

Hey -- it's a Jewish thing. You wouldn't understand.

I should add as a footnote that the jingle tune in question is credited to Clapton/Bruce/Baker, which means they wrote the immortal line "the beer you reach for first/when you want to quench your thirst" all by themselves.

I.e. without the assistnce of their usual collaborator/lyricist "Sunshine of Your Love" auteur Pete Brown. And good for them.

[h/t Jai Guru Dave]

Weekend Listomania: Special "The Sound of Mucous" Audio/Visual Edition

[I initially wrote/posted the following in 2012(!), back when I was not yet eligible for Medicare. Obviously, nobody currently reading this reissue will have any memory of the original version, but because of the stuff we did earlier this week about that obscure punk song in that forthcoming teen comedy, it seemed newly relevant. Consequently, and because I love you all more than food, I have done some re-writing and added two new entries. Please enjoy if possible. -- S.S.]

Okay, kids, it's Friday, and you know what that means. But before we get to business, indulge me one more cheap joke at the expense of a certain contemporary pop icon's new media event doubling as an album.

Hey, I gotta give it to Beyoncé!

It took 15(!) people to compose her new country hit.

That makes it the first masterpiece written by committee since the King James Bible!!!

Thank you, I'm here all week. Please tip your binary wait-staff and try the vegan.

Okay, with that out of the way, let's move on to today's thematic puzzler. Specifically --

Best or Worst Use of a Pop/Rock/Soul/Country Song in Either a Credit Sequence or otherwise Non-Musical Scene in a Film/TV Drama or Comedy!!!

No arbitrary rules, except -- of course -- no concert films, documentaries, or features starring The Beatles need apply.

And my totally top of my head Top Seven is...

7. The Lovin' Spoonful -- "Pow" (as heard in What's Up, Tiger Lily)

The song itself was a b-side, if memory serves, and it's deliberately silly, but it catches the '60s-absurdist feel of Woody Allen's debut cinematic jape pretty much perfectly.

6. Karen O with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross -- "The Immigrant Song" (as heard in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo)

I didn't care for the opening credits visual montage that it accompanies, but Mr. Nine Inch Nails' remake of the Led Zep song, which sets up the tone of the subsequent film perfectly, is just one of many reasons that David Fincher's Hollywood adaptation of TGWTDT is light years better than the Swedish, hippo-root sucking, original.

5. Van Morrison -- "Into the Mystic" (as heard in Panic in Needle Park)

I dunno if Van was thinking heroin when he wrote it, but the scene with Al Pacino and Kitty Winn (whatever the hell happened to her, BTW?) shooting up to to its slightly melancholy strains is one of the most indelible images in American films of the 70s. IMHO.

4. Herman's Hermits -- "I'm Into Something Good" (as heard in The Naked Gun)

Okay, it's a remake, but it is Peter Noone singing. I should add that the scene from the montage where Leslie Nielsen and Priscilla Presley come out of a theater showing Platoon while laughing hysterically never fails to make me feel better about life.

3. Gary Glitter -- "Rock and Roll" (as heard in Moolight Mile)

I was gonna nominate the film's Rolling Stones title tune, which is beautifully used, but it dawned on me that the Glitter track, from earlier in the same scene, is actually surprisingly effective despite being about as massively over-familiar as anything can be. Fun fact: After Robert Plant saw the film, he called up Mick Jagger to tell him how much he had liked "Moonlight Mile" (the song) and asked him what album it was on and when it had originally been released. I am not making this up.

2. Alica Keys and Jack White -- "Another Way to Die" (as heard in Quantum of Solace)

I have no problem with either Keys or White, but I think we can all agree that this one is pretty unmemorable. Or maybe it just seems that way knowing that it was supposed to be sung by Amy Winehouse, who -- we can also all agree -- was genetically bred to sing a Bond movie theme song.

And the numero uno shtup between music and the visual arts on a medium currently available for streaming unquestionably is...

1. Marcus Mumford and Ted Howe -- "Believe" (as heard in Ted Lasso)

Okay, okay, it's not the most memorable musical credit sequence I've ever seen, but it works beautifully if you've watched the show, and I just love the song. (PS: It reminds me of some rock standard, but I can't put my finger on it. Anybody have an idea?)

Here's the complete version, to help you out.

Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

The Greatest Emo Band Ever!

The Recess Monkeys, ladies and germs. Let's really hear it for them!!!

Slightly off topic, but you know, now that I think of it, John Candy could have done a really hilarious Trump impression. Using the same wig, actually.

In any case, I know there was supposed to be an interesting Kinks cover here today, but I screwed up. Sorry -- it will appear on Monday.

And a droll Weekend Listomania will brighten your day on the morrow. Cross my heart etc.

And This Just In...

Beyoncé, irked at having been disrespected at the 2023 United Jewish Appeal Man of the Year dinner, has announced that her next project will be a conceptual Klezmer album, to be called Oy Bey. Special guests will include Matisyahu, Jennifer Grey, and Jerry Seinfeld.

Rumors that she will follow that with an easy listening project -- Bed, Bath and Beyoncé -- remain unconfirmed at press time.

Closed for Monkey Business

Okay, as I hinted yesterday, I won the Lottery.

Just kidding -- real world stuff impinged on my work ethic.

Cool regular posting -- including the darndest Kinks cover you've ever heard -- resumes on the morrow.

Hang On to Your Dreams (An Occasional Series): Part Deux -- World Famous in Greenwich Village

So I think we can all agree that, as I mentioned yesterday, the story about those lost-to-history Brit punk wannabes The Limps having their obscure 1979 DIY single resurrected for a big forthcoming Hollywood teen movie is simultaneously the coolest and most heartwarming thing ever.

In any case, as I also mentioned yesterday, there's a part two to the story which is, admittedly, a tad self-indulgent (although highly relevant to the mission statement of the blog you're currently visiting) and here it comes.

I should add that it's also kind of cool and heartwarming, albeit not as epically as what happened to The Limps.

Anyway, the improbable real deal is that no more than fifteen minutes -- literally, I'm not kidding -- after stumbling aross the Cumbrian lads story online, I got an e-mail from an Australian music publicist named Dave Laing, who I've encountered in the past and who is a thoroughly splendid guy (and, as they used to say, a credit to his profession).

The short version: Dave informed me the good folks at too-hip-for-words British reissue label CHERRY RED RECORDS were in the process of putting together a three CD box set of American power pop from the Eighties. And that they and he wanted to include a song by -- be still my beating heart -- the pride-of-Bleecker Street band I toiled in back then and which I have have bent your ear about at some tedious length over the years, AKA The Floor Models.

More specifically, this recorded-in-1982 track from our fab and gear album Floor Your Love.

Dave also reminded me that Cherry Red had done an American Seventies power pop package late in '23...

...and as you'll see if you click on the link here, the track listing is an absolutely brilliantly chosen combo of big name bands and familiar songs along with some interesting cult favorites and estimable obscurities. Apparently, on the new set -- the track listing of which has not been finalized -- the Flo Mos would be a representative of the latter.

In any case, you could have knocked me over with the proverbial avian appendage when I got the news about this, and I'll keep you posted on the project as it gets closer to completion.

Bottom line: I am button-bustingly proud to be associated with said project (thanks, Dave!). And I only wish my two departed bandmates Andy Pasternack and Glen Robert Allen had lived to see it. Sniffle.

I also have to say that in the wake of both the Limps and the Flo Mos recent good fortunes, I'm really starting to feel lucky.

Now please excuse me while I go buy a lottery ticket. If I don't post anything for the next few days, just assume I won.

Hang On to Your Dreams (An Occasional Series): Part I -- World Famous in Cumbria

[Okay, this is gonna be a two-parter, and the second half, which will go up tomorrow, is a tad self-indulgent. But hang on -- it will all make sense and be worth it. -- S.S.]

Hey -- this is the coolest true story ever.

From the BBC webpage and the Brit tabloid The Sun, last week:

LIMPING ON

Ageing punks stunned after one of their songs was picked for a hit movie – 45 years after it sold just 50 copies

A former punk band guitarist has spoken of his shock after one of their songs was picked to appear in a new film.

The Limps blazed a trail in Carlisle, Cumbria, for a few months in the late-1970s before disappearing without a trace. Nearly 50 years later, their song "Someone I Can Talk To" will feature on the soundtrack of coming-of-age comedy Snack Shack, by US director Adam Rehmeier.

Songwriter Andy Septic –- now better known as Cumberland Council's councillor Andrew Semple -- said: “When Adam contacted us and said he wanted to use our song we couldn’t believe it.” Mr Rehmeier said he listened to the song every day when he was writing the film and said it was the only track that evoked the emotion he was looking for. He then contacted Mr Semple, the former mayor of Cockermouth, to ask to use it.

"We formed on a housing estate in Annan but the punk scene back then was in Carlisle,” Mr Semple said. “We weren’t very good - I was the only one who could play anything - and I think the most we ever played to was four or five people," he laughed.

Mr Semple said that since the news broke, the song – written in a bedroom in 1979 – has enjoyed a new lease on life on YouTube. However, he said it was unlikely to make The Limps overnight millionaires. “We’ve received a bit of money, but there’s not much when it’s got to be divided between four of us,” he added. Snack Shack is due to be released later this year.

Cockermouth. Words fail me.

Meanwhile, here's the song in question, which was originally released to world-wide apathy in 1979, but in retrospect is actually rather charming.

And here's the trailer for Snack Shack, which despite its generic teen-comedy vibe actually seems promising.

Like I said, this is the coolest true story ever.

Until what follows on the morrow. Heh.

To be continued...

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "Pound Those Pagan Skins, Daddy-O!" Edition

Secret Agent and The Prisoner star (and coolest man who ever lived) Patrick McGoohan -- on drums?

Say what?

I'd forgotten that clip until I posted about that Prisoner-themed song by The Times last Monday. It derives, in case you're wondering, from Brit director Basil Dearden's 1962 feature All Night Long, which is a fabulous jazz reimagining of Othello. McGoohan is the film's Iago, no surprise there, and apparently that's really him playing in the clip.

I should add that said film -- which also features musical performances by Dave Brubeck and Charles Mingus -- is available in a budget DVD set with three other equally astounding Dearden flicks -- Sapphire, The League of Gentlemen, and Victim -- from Criterion subsidiary Eclipse. It makes a great gift for any cineaste of your acquaintance and you can -- and should -- order it over at Amazon HERE.

Which brings us to today's business. To wit:

...and your all-time favorite (or least favorite) drum solo/break on a post-Elvis pop/rock/country or soul record is...???

Arbitrary rule: No jazz records need apply, for obvious reasons. Although if it's one that actually got played on Top 40 radio, a la Cozy Cole's "Topsy Pt II," I'll allow it.

Also -- there are no time/length constraints, so you can endorse something as brief as my nominee, which is the couple-of-measures long drums-and-handclaps fill B.J. Wilson graces on Procol Harum's "The Devil Came From Kansas" (which you can hear below at approximately the 2:46 mark).

Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

I'm So Old I Remember Nick Lowe When He Was a Hippie

From 1970, and their insufficiently critically celebrated eponymous debut album, please enjoy the incomparable Brinsley Schwarz and their exquisite Nick Lowe-penned and sung "Mayfly."

I bring this up for two reasons. For starters, because Nick turned 75 over last weekend, and so just shoot me now.

And secondly, because it's always tickled me that Nick is usually name-checked with subsequent currently hipper musical trends -- pub rock and wise-guy New Wave -- even though, as you can hear from the above, he initially came to public attention with a characteristically counter-culturish blend of psychedelic-prog rock-and country-meets-CSNY.

I mean, the Brinsleys of "Mayfly" would have gone down an absolute storm at Woodstock. Seriously.

And just to prove the point, here's my favorite of several songs from their stylistically similar followup album, also from 1970.

How's this for inspirational verse?

Just like tomorrow/We were divided

You on your side/And me on mine

Lovely lady/Of the wildwind

May our branches/Still intertwine

Wow. The smell of incense and patchouli oil really is all over that one, n'est-ce pas?

In any case, I absolutely love both of those records -- have I mentioned that Brinsleys keyboardist Bob Andrews is right up there as an organ guy with his hero Garth Hudson? -- and have from the minute I first heard them. Which was, in case you were wondering, as a fledgling rock critic at my college (CW Post) newspaper, where I was fortunate enough to be on the mailing lists of all the major labels. Those were the days, BTW -- when I write my memoirs there's gonna be a big chapter about that shit.

In any case, you can -- and should -- get those two LPs in a terrific CD package also featuring all the Brinsleys other studio albums save, alas, for the last (the one with the original "Peace, Love and Understanding") over at Amazon HERE.

You're welcome.

These Kids Today, With Their Loud Music and Their Long Acronyms!!!

From 1965, please enjoy Paul Revere and the Raiders, featuring criminally underrated lead guitarist Drake Levin, and their killer instrumental "B.F.D.R.F. Blues."

That was the b-side to the Raiders epochal hit "Just Like Me," BTW. And if you've ever wondered what an a-list early '60's northwest proto-punk band sounded like live, listen no further.

More to the point -- a coveted PowerPop No-Prize© will be afforded to the first reader who can identify what B.F.D.R.F. stands for. Without looking it up, of course.

Songs I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved (An Occasional Series): Special "I Am Not a Number!" Edition

From 1983, please enjoy Brit power pop/punksters The Times and their fab gear single "I Helped Patrick McGoohan Escape."

Mashups between The Beatles and The Spencer Davis Group ("Keep On Running") don't get any better, I think you'll agree.

BTW, as long-time readers are no doubt aware, that song looms large in my legend for extra-musical reasons. As in -- here I am, a few years ago, in London in front of the actual apartment McGoohan escaped to.

As for The Times, although I remember plugging the single in the pages of TMFKAS at the (er) time, I know little about them, although my research staff on crack informs me that an apparently well-regarded guy named Ed Ball (that's him on the single picture sleeve) was also the man behind several other period bands of note, including Television Personalities and Teenage Filmstars. Recommendations for future listening gratefully acceped.

Your Monday Moment of "Why Didn't I Get the Memo?"

From 1959, please enjoy Bob McFadden (and Dor, whoever that was) and his Rod McKuen-penned ode to "The Beat Generation."

Seriously -- am I the only sentient mammal on the planet who didn't know that the above was from where Richard Hell cribbed his 1977 comic/nihilist punk anthem?

I'm not kidding about this -- I had never heard the McFadden single until the other day and had no idea Hell was paying tribute to it.

That said, the original is a lot funnier, IMHO.

In case you were wondering, however, McFadden spent most of his career doing the voices for animated cartoon film/tv characters; that's he as the voice of Milton the Monster and Snarf the Thundercat.

He looms largest in my legend, however, as the frontman for this hilarious novelty record (also from 1959).

Again written by Rod McKuen (yeah, him) and featuring that Dor thingie. If anybody has the skinny on him/her/it, BTW, let us know and you'll be awarded a coveted PowerPop No-Prize©.

You're welcome.

Friday Album Plugola: Special "Thanks -- I Needed That!" Edition

Okay, this one really IS special.

From his just released debut CD (and my current nominee, however early, for Album of the Year), please enjoy Lance Cowan and the opening and closing tracks of his soul-solacing So Far, So Good.

Frankly, the record had me from the minute I heard the delicately chiming (mostly acoustic) guitars on the lead-off title track...

...and I remained enthralled all the way through its closing ode to "Mr. Ben McGhee." (An old guy I think you'll recognize/relate to; I certainly did.)

A little backstory: Lance's day job is as Nashville's savviest music publicist. I've known him in that capacity since the '90s, and over the years (both when I was a small bigshot at The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review and, more recently, as a poor scribbler at this here blog) he's hipped me to a lot of great stuff I might otherwise not have heard (thanks, Lance!). Ironically enough, however, I only vaguely knew that he also had an out-of-the-office secret identity as a singer/songwriter.

Which leads us to his new album. It will surprise no one to learn that it is without question the quietest thing I've flipped over lately, which is to say it ain't a rock record. But however you categorize it-- folk/country/Americana/whatever -- it's still affected me on a gut level more than anything of its ilk I've heard in ages. The songs (which are all as wonderful as the two above) are literate, melodically memorable, poignant and often surprisingly funny, and they're sung by Lance in a deeply affecting Bruised Everyman voice that I'd kill to have. And the backing instrumentals -- by some of Music City's finest, including the legendary "Dangerous" Dan Dugmore on various guitars -- are so gorgeous you can float away on them, even when the subject matter gets a soupcon gritty. Not to mince words, but I've really really needed to hear something as honest, lovely, well crafted and touching as SFSG for far too long. And even without the loud backbeat I normally gravitate to, it's actually restored my faith in music generally (a feat I absolutely didn't expect).

Have I mentioned this is a freaking great album?

You can find out more about Lance over at his website HERE. And you can (and should) purchase (and stream) So Far, So Good over at Amazon HERE.

Oh, and BTW, if you happen to be in the vicinity of Nashville tonight, stop in at the album release party. It's at the Music Makers Stage at Delgado Guitars...

...and the festivities start at 7:30pm.

Needless to say -- tell Lance that PowerPop sent you!!!

Meanwhile, have a great weekend, everybody!!!

The Creative Process at Work

Paul Simon on the Stephen Colbert show last week.

In case you missed it, the funniest and most rewarding half-hour or so of teevee I've seen in ages. In particular, Simon's droll deadpan explication of what he was thinking as he wrote "Darling Lorraine."

Which is a song I must confess having been heretofore unfamiliar with, but am now quite enthusiastic about.

Keep Those Chompers Choogling!!!

Okay, I couldn't resist. From 1968, please enjoy "Toothy Ruthy," the b-side of that dental-themed Fire single I mentioned yesterday.

Your basic "Hang On Sloopy" rewrite, obviously, but I have a perhaps genetic predisposition to dig any record -- and especially one by Brits, for obvious reasons -- implying you should pay particular attention to your oral hygiene.

Coming tomorrow -- that retrospective on Spooky Tooth I've been threatening for years!!!

Your Tuesday Moment of Why Didn't I Get the Memo?

From 1968 (like you couldn't tell from the video) please enjoy brief-lived (and heretofore unknown to me) mod/freaakbeat Brit power trio Fire and their minor UK hit "Father's Name is Dad."

As I hinted above, I had never even heard of those guys till last Sunday (St. Paddy's Day), when another clip of "Dad" popped up on a couple of Facebook pages I follow; I figured maybe it was because they were Irish, but no -- they're Brits, and it was just a coincidence.

In any event, a fabulous record in that sort of eratz Who/Creation style that was all the rage back then. I should add that the band's leader/songwriter/guitarist Dave Lambert went on to join better known folk-rock hitmakers The Strawbs, with whom he played on a few records I actually HAVE heard of, including the great working class anthem "Part of the Union."

I should also add that Fire's other single that year was "Round the Gum Tree" backed with "Toothie Ruthie."

To my knowledge, the only two-sided dental-themed record in rock history.

Heh.

If It's Monday, It Must Be Musician Jokes

Q: What is something you never hear in the music business?

A: "There's the banjo player's Porsche."

Q: What do you call a trombonist with a pager?

A: An optimist

Q: What do you call a drummer in a three-piece suit?

A: The defendant.

Q: How do you get a bass player off your porch?

A: Pay for the pizza

Hey -- I'm laid-up with a cold. Regular posting, involving actual writing and real music, resumes tomorrow, Benadryl permitting.

La Fin de la Semaine Essay Question: Special "Ampersands Rule!" Edition

From 1973 and their album Louisiana Rock & Roll, please enjoy unaccountably little-known Southern Rock stalwarts Potliquor and their cautionary on-the-road tale "You Can't Get There From Here."

Those guys were, as you can hear, a killer two-guitar band, but unlike their better known and indulgently verbose genre/geographical blues-based brethren (Skynyrd, The Allmans) they actually have more in common on a sonic and compositional level with the likes of later, punkier avant-gardists like Television. I also hear a lot of the kind of mutant/metal stylings reminiscent of Brit contemporaries like The Move. And I can't think of another American act of their day who sounded so interesting production-wise.

Ooh -- I just remembered that not only have I written about these guys before, but that I actually had some interraction with people in their orbit. You can check that out OVER HERE,

I should also add that the aformentioned LR&R (I love the &), from whence the above song derives, is no longer officially available (although you can hear the rest of it on YouTube). Its predecessor, Levee Blues, however. remains available for streaming at Amazon and is highly recommended.

But now, of course, it's time to get to the business at hand. To wit:

...and your favorite obscure '70s rock/pop/country/folk or soul album by an equally obscure band or solo artist is...???

I emphasize 70s here, for obvious reasons. And by obscure, we mean something that the average reasonably well-informed music fan probably wouldn't be familiar with beyond perhaps the artist's name or album title. If that.

Discuss.

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Songs I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved (An Occasional Series): Special "You Can't Copyright a Title" Edition

From 1991, please enjoy Boston alt/folk-rock indie faves Knots and Crosses and their utterly heart-wrenching, gorgeously sung and brilliantly performed look at the relationships that happen to "Creatures of Habit."

K&C were one of those occasional shoulda/coulda music biz sad stories; after a couple of DIY albums that sold a remarkable 20,000 copies in the pre-internet days, they got signed to a major label (Island) and then got dropped almost immediately. Lead singer Carol Noonan, however, went on to release a whole mess of well-received solo efforts of similar quality in a similar stylistic vein and she's also, as I just learned, a big NPR fave and the co-proprietress of the Stone Mountain Arts Center in Maine.

In any case, I bring the whole thing up because I also just learned that Harry Shearer's wife(!) Judith Owen -- who I had never heard of until last Monday morning -- had written and recorded her own "Creatures of Habit" in 2008, and it's pretty damned impressive as well.

I should also add that the bit about not being able to copyright a title is actually true; apparently, if you wanted to publish a novel about a flatulent meteorologist and call it Gone With the Wind you would be completely within your rights. If there are any lawyers out there reading this, feel free to clarify it if I'm wrong.

[h/t Captain Al]

Eric Carmen 1949 - 2024

The auteur of The Raspberries has passed. I needn't remind anybody that he and they pretty much sum up the mission statement of this here blog.

I should add that a certain Shady Dame and I had our first date at a Raspberries show in Manhattan in 2007; they were promoting the Live on Sunset Strip album from whence the above clip derives. So you can imagine my surprise when said jeune fille told me yesterday that she'd saved the Raspberries button the record company (Ryko) had thoughtfully provided for the industry attendees that night. (Cue: Steve getting a little verklempt.)

I should also add -- just to annoy the less fortunate -- that I also saw the Raspberries in their early 70s heyday. At Carnegie Hall, if memory serves; they were flush from the success of "I Wanna Be With You" (the opening 12-string riff of which is still one of my favorite several seconds of recorded music ever) and, alas, wearing those dopey matching suits that kept them from being considered hip in that far away era. Come to think of it, they were actually the opening act for somebody else (I forget who). But they were very impressive, and in any case, what I remember most about the show wasn't their ability to reproduce the sound of their records live, but rather that they rolled two(!) Mellotrons onstage at some point and proceeded to surprise everybody with a killer rendition of -- dig this -- "Be My Baby."

Have I mentioned that this death shit is really starting to piss me off?

Karl Wallinger 1957 - 2024

The auteur of The Waterboys and World Party has passed. Damn, I'd forgotten how much I loved this song of his.

I've said it before and I'll say it again -- this death shit is really starting to piss me off.

PS: I'd also forgotten that I reviewed the album from whence that song derives. Here it is, in the September 1990 issue of Stereo Review.

Jeez, I really was a cynical bastard back then. I mean, the digs at XTC and Todd Rundgren strike me as a bit much. Other than that, however, I think I got the album right.

Les Cahiers du Jet Screamer!!!

From some time in the apparently distant future, please enjoy the aforementioned Mr. Screamer and the greatest rock record of all time, "Epp! Opp! Ork!".

Okay, maybe not the greatest rock record of all time, but Judy Jetson's favorite fer sure.

And I think we can also agree that Judy's dad George's opening drum solo rules.

In all seriousnes, I have not been able to determine who actually sang and played on EOE (an uncomfirmed rumor has it that the vocals were by Mel Brooks alumnus Howie Morris), but we do know that it was in fact co-written by the great William Hanna-Joseph Barbera team who created The Jetsons and much, much more.,

I would also be remiss if I didn't post this 1995 cover version by The Violent Femmes.

Pretty fab, and I should add that it derives from the unaccountably forgotten compilation album Saturday Morning Cartoons Greatest Hits, which also features a version of "The Banana Splits Song" by Liz Phair(!) and Material Issue(!!) that really IS one of the greatest rock records of all time. But that's a subject for a future post.

Weekend Listomania: Special "You Can't Get There From Here" Edition

[I posted the original version of this in 2008 -- Hole. E. Shit!!! -- but it struck me as newly pertinent now that our esteemed New York governor, in a ludicrously tone deaf attempt to co-opt the Trumpist Republicans' cynical and stupid THE IMMIGRANTS ARE COMING TO RAPE YOU! campaign, is actually deploying the National Guard into the NYC subway system to do bag checks of little old ladies purses. Genius!!!

In any case I've done a lot of re-writing of the thing, and switched in a couple of new items so as not to seem like the slacker asshole I actually am. That notwithstanding, enjoy.]

And the subject of our new and revised Listomania is...

BEST POST-ELVIS POP/ROCK/SOUL/COUNTRY SONG OR RECORD WHOSE TITLE REFERENCES A MODE OF TRANSPORTATION!!!!!

Totally arbitrary rule: No title utilizing the words "road" or "street" need apply. Sorry.

Okay, that said, here's my totally top of my head Top Eight.

8. Bitchin' Camaro (The Dead Milkmen)

I'm not sure if this is as funny as the DMs thought it was at the time, but you gotta give it this -- it's got one of the longest spoken word intros in rock history.

7. Little Deuce Coupe (The Beach Boys)

Pretty much my all time favorite car song, and I love this clip, from a closed-circuit theater concert which I actually saw in a local (Jersey) cinema when it was first broadcast.

6. Last of the Steam Powered Trains (Ed Kuepper and Mark Dawson)

The original is from the Kinks' epochal Village Green album, of course, and I've always wondered why nobody ever covered it. Turns out Ed Kuepper, the lead singer of the great Australian punk band The Saints, actually did.

5. Chestnut Mare (The Byrds)

Because "A Horse With No Name" is just too stupid for words, and I couldn't find a video for Procol Harum's "A Christmas Camel" that I liked. Heh.

4. A tie!!!

Theme from Route 66 (Nelson Riddle)

George Maharis and Martin Milner come home -- all is forgiven.

...and...

Route 66 (Some asshole whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels)

I can't think of another rock song that's inspired so many terrific covers in so many styles -- Depeche Mode, anybody? -- but this isn't one of them. Hey -- if memory serves, there were some alcoholic beverages being consumed.

3. Rocket in My Pocket (Jimmy Lloyd)

That's Jimmy Lloyd a/k/a Jimmy Logsdon ("The Man Without a Subtitle" in Nick Tosches brilliant Unsung Heroes of Rock n Roll, still the best and funniest book about roots music ever) and what was for many years one of the rarest and in-demand rockabilly obscurities ever recorded. You might recall it from The Iron Giant soundtrack, of course.

2. My White Bicycle (Tomorrow)

Brilliant Summer of Love psychedelic pop, even if the guitarist is the pre-Yes Steve Howe.

And the number one transportation-themed song, it's not even a contest so don't bug me, is --

1. Trains and Boats and Planes (Fountains of Wayne)

For obvious reasons, of course, not the least of which it's just so gorgeously mournful. Yeah, yeah, I realize the Dionne Warwick version is pretty much the peak product of her Bachrach/David collaboration, but a lot of the covers out there are really good. And I think FOW pretty much nailed it, no?

Awrighty then -- what would your choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!!

Closed for Monkey Business: Special "Primary Exhaustion" Edition

Sorry -- Super Tuesday just wiped me out.

Barring the unforseen, regular posting -- and hopefully a Weekend listomania or some such -- resumes on the morrow.

Great Lost Singles of the (We Think) '80s (An Occasional Series): Special "This is the Big One, Elizabeth!!!" Edition

Okay, hold on to your seats, kids, and please enjoy should-be-a-household-word Richard Orange and his absolutely drop-dead astounding guitar-driven power pop masterpiece "Hole in My Heart."

Words fail me.

So where is that from? And why haven't you heard it before?

The short version: As attentive readers will recall, two weeks ago I had very nice things to say about the cover version done by Cyndi Lauper, which plays over the end credits of her underrated film debut (with Jeff Goldblum and Peter Falk) in the 1988 sci-fi rom-com Vibes.

So anyway, a certain Shady Dame and I watched the flick, and when the song came on I wondered a) why it hadn't been a bigger hit and b) and more important, who wrote it? So I looked it up, and when I found that Lauper wasn't the author, I figured I should track down the original, if there was one. Hey -- never let it be said I don't do the heavy lifting for those of you reading this here blog.

Result:I found the above vid on YouTube, and it blew my tiny mind. Great lost singles of the 80s? Hell, I'd nominate that for THE great lost single of all time, period. I mean, if I was still in a band, I'd want to play stuff that sounded just like that, at the drop of a hat anywhere, and I'd do it for free. I mean, my god -- those layered inter-weaving jangly guitars (there's a 12-string in there, of course), that propulsive and melodic McCartney-esque bass, those killer drums (the production of which is astounding), and the out-of-this-world and hilarious lyrical conceit. And have I mentioned the beyond perfect lead vocal and harmonies? It's like the record of my dreams.

In any case, I still don't know exactly when that was made, or anything about its auteur, other than that he seems to have been active since the 70s, to little or no notice beyond the royalty checks he presumably still gets from streams of the movie. He does, however, have a Facebook page, and after today's post goes up, I plan to go over there and act like the most obnoxious fanboy imaginable.

Hey -- he deserves no less. I'll keep you posted as things develop.

The Blog By Numbers: Special "Senior Citizens Rule!" Edition

[In which we catch up with a bunch of brief and/or dumb stuff that I've been meaning to post for a while, but hadn't gotten around to for whatever reason.]

1. Keith Sings Lou

I think we can agree that this is a song he was born to cover. I'm curious, however -- can you still score a bag of H for twenty-six dollars? Asking for a friend.

2. I Hate This Guy

This good looking sonofabitch turned 80(!) on Saturday. Words fail me.

3. Why Didn't I Get the Memo About This?

Joe Walsh(!) covers the Shirelles(!!). I had no idea this existed until our friend Sal Nunziato at Burning Wood mentioned it over the weekend. Pretty damn good, no?

4. I Really Liked His Solo Work

Harrison Ford, get it? Come to think of it, I could almost see George playing the part.

5. It Seems Like Only Yesterday

Ah COVID, we barely knew ye.

It Came From the Outer Boros (An Occasional Series): Special "Domestic Bliss" Edition

From just last week, please enjoy pride-of-Brooklyn pop/punk youngsters Wifey and their infectious and hilarious debut single "Mary Ann Leaves the Band."

I gotta say, I haven't heard anything quite as cool as as that since the glory days of Fountains of Wayne (who, you will not be surprised to learn, Wifey proudly claims as an influence). Meanwhile, in case you can't make them out amidst the glorious clatter of the jangly guitars and stuff, here are some representative lyrics...

It's mostly men in the marching band/ And not one girl's half as cute

As Mary Ann at her music stand/ My God, that girl knew how to handle a flute

Told her my name at the football game/ And once again when we played the state fair

But ever since she met Johnny K/ Well her priorities have been elsewhere

Mary Ann finds herself a man and then the band starts falling apart

Mary Ann finds herself a man and then the band starts falling apart

Now here she is, skipping practices/ The kids in woodwind are all licking their wounds

I sit alone with my saxophone/ But Mr S won't let me play the blues

The music school don't feel as cool/ The other girls are relieved

But since you quit, we play like shit/ I'm jumping ship for the chess team

Oh Mary Ann, I beg of thee/ I'm pining for you as we plod through Yankee Doodle Dandy

This Becky girl can't play your parts as skillfully as you/ Her breath control is spotty, and I heard that she eats glue

Sure Johnny's got a car, and his sleeve tattoos are cool/ But don't you think it's kind of weird he hangs around the high school?

He's 32 years old and he still lives with his mom/ Pretty sure it's illegal for him to come to the prom

And let me just say, and for the record, that reading the above was the most fun I've had with my clothes on so far this year.

Meanwhile , these kids...

...describe themselves thusly (and be prepared -- this is without question the greatest band promo bio in rock history).

Wifey is a Brooklyn power-pop band formed by Teddy Grey and Carly Kerr, two hot dorks who prove that the theater-kid to punk-rocker pipeline is still claiming innocent victims. After working together on an R-rated Garfield musical (don’t ask), the two bonded over a mutual love of bubblegrunge, emo, and DIY, and began crafting the catchiest songs ever written. They were soon joined in marriage by Mickey Blurr on lead guitar, and Chris Canieso on drums, and the rest is history. The honeymoon phase never has to end with Wifey, thanks to their earworm hooks, enticingly questionable lyrics, and lovely harmonies that could only come from the happiest of marriages. Matrimony never looked so good.

Debut EP “Just A Tease,” (alternate title: “Future Classics”) is the first taste of their ear-candy. Mixed and mastered by Billy Mannino (oso oso, Ben Quad, saturdays at your place), “Just A Tease” features five songs that will remain lodged in your head forever, whether you like it or not. In a scene revolving around confessional songwriting and baring your soul, Wifey has the decency to be tasteless, and are deep enough to be shallow. The hole for loud, dumb pop songs is wide open and Wifey is more than happy to fill it.

With hooky tunes revolving around timeless subjects such as getting drunk, girls whose names end in Anne, and the addictive substance known only as “Candysauce,” Wifey is a power-pop band with real power. Influenced heavily by the melodic punks that came before them (Lemonheads, Green Day, Joyce Manor) and embodying the “Don’t bore us, get to the chorus” ethos, Wifey’s songs are as exciting as a sugar rush, and only slightly less hazardous to your health.

Hey -- they had me at "the theater-kid to punk-rocker pipeline." Absolutely priceless. Anyway, I can't wait to hear more of their stuff -- like that aforementioned EP promised for later this year? C'mon guys, get with it!!!

Bottom line: Wifey is my new favorite band, and I'll keep you posted on what's going on with them as things develop.

Weekend Listomania: Special "Bad Taste is Timeless" Edition

[I first ran a version of this one back in 2009 -- yeah, yeah, I know, that blows my mind too -- but when I stumbled across it for the first time in ages the other day, it struck me as pretty funny and worthy of revival, so here we are. As is my wont, I've added an entry and done some rewriting, just so you don't think I'm a complete slacker asshole. -- S.S.]

Post-Elvis Group, Solo Artist or Song You've Taken the Most Snark For Liking From Folks Over the Years!!!

Self-explanatory, obviously, and no arbitrary rules whatsoever, you're welcome very much. Basically, if anybody's ever looked at you with an alarmed raised eyebrow when you noted that, oh, Filth by The Swans was the record you'd most like to have played at your memorial service, then this category is for you.

And my totally top of my head Top Five is:

5. The Ohio Express -- Yummy, Yummy, Yummy

Bubblegum crap, right? Blah blah blah. Turn in your Rock Writers of the World union card, Simels, you're embarrassing us.

Fuck that shit. I've said it before and I'll say it again -- if you turn off the goofy vocals on the left channel, and just listen to the instrumental stuff on the right, what you'll hear is as tough a rock instrumental track as anybody has ever made. I'm talking Rolling Stones or Velvet Underground tough here.

4. The Beach Boys

Not so much these days, of course, given that it's now generally conceded by all who walk upright that Brian Wilson is a genius, the Gershwin of his generation, but the Beach Boys have gone in and out of fashion so many times over the last 60(!) years that it's hard to keep track. Back in the hippie days, however -- particularly after the whole debacle of Smile -- the attitude in the counter-culture was that you had to be a hopelessly bourgeois square to take them seriously (in this country, at least; the Brits knew better). In any case, at that point being a Beach Boys fan was essentially the Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name, and I don't mean Mike.

3. The Guess Who

Seriously, back in the 70s, I can't tell you how often I would mention my fondness for these guys, only to notice that the people I was talking to were moving away, ever so slowly but firmly, from where I sat.

The clip above -- a medley called "Hi, Rockers!" -- is my favorite of several true gems from the band's masterpiece album. The transition from the hilarious beer-soaked barroom meeting of the minds that opens it into the seraphically lovely clavinet-driven "Heaven Only Moved Once" and finally the witty mutant rockabilly revenge number "Don't You Want Me" -- complete with faux Jordanaires harmony vocals -- is, frankly, a marvel to behold, and from where I sit one of the very greatest moments in 70s rock. I'm not kidding about this!!!

2. Procol Harum

These guys, although there's still a perception out there that they were one-hit wonders (hah!), actually get a fair amount of respect now -- it's amazing how often I run into people who turn out to be closet fans. So I'm mostly including them here because the luminous NYMary, annotating a piece I'd written about the band in the early 70s for reprint in these precincts, couldn't resist taking a shot at "A Whiter Shade of Pale" (bless her heart). I think the phrase she used was "Dodgiest lyrics ever..."

Naturally enough, then, the clip above is "Repent Walpurgis," a lyric-less instrumental that remains one of my all-time fave Procol numbers. It's a live version, featuring the classic five piece original lineup with Robin Trower and Matthew Fischer (the latter four decades away from settling his authorship suit over AWSOP) at the Fillmore West on April 11, 1969. How do you say "awesomely magnificent" in Yiddish?

And the numero uno artiste(s) or song for whom my enthusiasm has gotten me shunned from time to time is obviously --

1. The Four Seasons -- Marlena

The Four Seasons, despite (or perhaps because of) their metamorphosis into the inspiration for a world-wide hit Broadway/film musical phenomenon, remain somewhat less than hep in certain rock critic circles. I, of course, have said on numerous occasions (including here, if memory serves) that their great run of hits -- spanning the period between "Sherry" in 1962 through, say, "I've Got You Under My Skin" five years later -- comprise the purest pop confections in the history of the genre (the grittier class conscious romanticism of "Dawn" and "Rag Doll," and those songs' influence on Bruce Springsteen, is, of course, a subject for another day).

In any case, my advocacy of "Marlena" (which I think is their most profoundly silly accomplishment, and that's meant as a compliment) has gotten me into trouble on a couple of occasions, most notably sometime in the late 70s, when I -- along with twenty or thirty other folks, mostly writers and musicians -- was asked to make a list of our Five All-Time Favorite Songs by New York City rock colossus WNEW-FM (the station then played everybody's lists over the course of an entire day). I don't remember all five songs I picked -- one was The Who's "Glow Girl" -- but I did nominate "Marlena," and I recall that after the deejay ID'd it as one of my choices, I got at least three frantic phone calls from erstwhile friends questioning my sanity. Okay, I exaggerate just a tad, but you get the idea.

In any case, I think history has vindicated my assessment.

Incidentally, the audio clip of "Marlena" above is the original mono single mix, which I was able to find only after great personal effort and considerable financial expense. This is important because most currently available Four Seasons comps have the song in stereo, and as Pete Townshend famously said about The Who's "I Can See For Miles," the mono mix of "Marlena" makes the stereo version sound like The Carpenters.

Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!