From 1987, and their brilliant The Sound of Music album, please enjoy The dBs -- with the incomparable Syd Straw on guest vocals -- and the (should have been a massive hit) Peter Holsapple-penned (and sung) country/power pop weeper "Never Before and Never Again."
God, what a great song, and their voices fit together like Gram and Emmylou.
I should add that I had completely forgotten about the above until I stumbled across it online a few days ago, and it reduced me to a puddle of tears.
I think the lyrics had something to do with it.
This is the story of a mixed-up teen
What a dilemma, what a crazy scene
They had it out for the very last time
Never again, they made up their minds
She grew her hair and it changed her style
She wanted to stay that way for a while
She took a step and she didn't fall down
And that was just fine as long as he's not around
She got really small, hardly there at all
It took some days before she'd answer his call
And when she did, it just wouldn't sink in
Never before and never again
Never again and never before
Could two in love try to even the score
Never be lovers before you are friends
Never before and never again
He got a job, became immersed in books
His hair grew too, and that improved his looks
He stayed out nights, sometimes parties till four
Until he'd had enough, never again he swore
He took himself very seriously
He lost some friends and made some enemies
Still there were nights when he'd call out her name
Before he realized it was never again
Never again, she cried never again
We're too far apart and the days will not end
We're too far apart and I've taken the step
I've got a home now, not a place I've just slept
Never again and never before
Can two in love try to even the score
Never be lovers before you are friends
Never before and never again
Never again
Never again
Oh god -- the stuff about their haircuts is so wonderfully tragic/funny I can't even deal with it.
I should also add that there are people who are of the opinion that The dBs never really recovered artistically from the departure of estimable co-founder Chris Stamey.
Those people are -- what's the word I'm groping for? -- wrong.
That photo was shot around the corner, i.e., a block away from where a certain Shady Dame and I currently live in Forest Hills (aka the Paris of the North East).
None of those store fronts are still there; now it's a Starbucks, a CVS and a Fed Ex, among others.
But I can tell you from first hand -- the spirit lingers on!!!
Oh, and BTW -- I wanna know what happened to those two gals second and third from the left in the front row. Especially the brunette with the big black hairdo.
From his forthcoming (momentarily) new album 1967 Vacations in the Past, please dig Robyn Hitchcock and a thorougly lovely remake of The Kinks' "Waterloo Sunset."
"Waterloo Sunset," of course, is at this point pretty widely recognized as being the most beautiful pop song written in English in the second half of the 20th Century; as for Hitchcock's version, let's just say I think he did Ray Davies' creation justice.
As for rest of the new album, it's a mix of (mostly) covers of stuff from the titular year (a nice "Itchykoo Park," for example) and new originals that are thematically relevant to the year in question.
I'm not gonna comment on the latter stuff, but I must say that of the former, this one is pretty freaking awful.
In fairness to Hitchcock, of course, the song itself -- written by John Phillips, and don't get me started -- was a cynical exploitive piece of shit from jump, and the fact that it was conceived that way -- i.e.. as a wanna-be theme song for the bullshit that was the Summer of Love -- makes it all the more unlistenable to my contemporary ears.
Hitchcock may be making the same point, but hey, who knows -- maybe the above is meant straight. I'll reserve judgement on that until I digest the entire album a little more.
From 1991, and his album Perspex Island, please enjoy frighteningly NBA-sized Brit rocker Robyn Hitchcock (with The Egyptians) and the little power pop masterpiece that is "So You Think You're in Love."
In keeping with last week's Listomania, I should add that the above is a song I listened to obsessively when it first came out (and desperately wanted to cover with the Flo Mos, which was not, alas, to be). Hadn't seen that charming video before yesterday, however.
I should also add that I had more or less forgotten the whole thing until I learned recently that Hitchcock has a forthcoming (October) new album in which he pays tribute to the music made in 1967.
What I've heard from it so far is...er...interesting. Stay tuned for tomorrow's post for an early tasting.
[I originally posted a version of this back in 2009, when I was still 5'81/2" tall (don't ask). Anyway, I've done some rewriting and added some new entries, this despite the fact that I've had a terrible week and I can barely rouse myself. Sheesh -- the things I do for you guys. Anyway, enjoy. -- S.S.]
Well, it's Friday, and we're all still losing sleep over the innocent cats and dogs Donald Trump (aka Donny Demento) has informed us are being devoured au poivre in the wilds of Ohio.
That being the case, here's a fun little project to take our minds off the looming Pet Holocaust -- to wit:
Post-Elvis Singles or Individual Album Tracks That Changed Your Life!!!
Self-explanatory, I think, so no arbitrary rules this time. Except that we're specifically talking here about ONLY singles or album cuts, NOT whole albums (a topic for another time). Also, I'm disqualifying anything by The Beatles on the grounds that there are just too damned many tunes by the Fabs to choose from and that they're a little too obvious choices in any case.
Okay, and my totally Top of My Head Top Ten, in no particular order, is...
10. The Replacements -- I Will Dare
The lead off track from Let It Be. I had never heard a note by these guys before it came out, and the only reason I bothered to listen is that a colleague wrote a rave about it in the Village Voice. Needless to say, my head exploded when I heard it. Really, I couldn't believe people were still making music like that.
9. The Rolling Stones -- It's All Over Now
The Valentinos original of this (featuring Bobby Womack) is superficially similar -- two guitars, bass and drums, and a singer up front -- but if you've ever heard it, you know that it's actually kind of jolly. The Stones rethink keeps the basic arrangement model intact, but the guitars are stripped down to ominous Travis-picking meets scrubbed metal Chuck Berry, and the whole thing is invested with a palpable sense of menace completely unprecedented in pop music at the time. Plus: the concluding fade-out, with those circular guitar riffs altered just slightly each time as the echo creeps in, marks (no doubt about it) the birth of the style and esthetic we'd later call Minimalism. Alas, in the 70s, that moron Phillip Glass went on to adopt it for four-hour operas, thus totally missing the point, but this is what it's supposed to sound like.
Bottom line: Hearing this under a pillow via transistor radio over WMCA-AM is when I decided that Andrew Oldham's liner note claim -- that the Stones weren't just a band, they were a way of life -- wasn't as asinine as it seemed at first.
8. The Byrds -- The Bells of Rhymney
As I have said here on numerous occasions, if there's a more beautiful sound in all of nature than that of a Rickenbacker 12-string guitar well played, I have yet to hear it. In any case, this song -- even more than "Mr. Tambourine Man" -- is where the Church of the Rickenbacker opened. Nearly six decades later, I'm still dropping by for services, if you'll pardon the perhaps inelegant mixed metaphor.
7. The Beach Boys -- When I Grow Up
Obviously, it's melodically gorgeous and the harmonies exquisite. But it's also the first rock song (for me anyway) that combines adolescent angst and something like mature wisdom; when people say that Brian Wilson invented the whole confessional California songwriting school that people usually associate with Joni Mitchell or Jackson Browne, this is the song they have in mind, I think. Although "In My Room" or "Don't Worry Baby" are contenders as well.
6. The Miracles -- The Tracks of My Tears
This wasn't the first r&b record I loved, but it's the first one I bought and played as obsessively as I did any Beatles 45. Everything about it just killed me; the oddly sinister yet lovely sound of the guitars at the beginning, the way the rhythm section falls effortlessly into place, the sensual longing in Smokey's voice contrasted with the almost churchy background vocals...I still can't listen to it without thinking there's some detail I've missed, one that if I could only hear at last then some tremendous secret would be revealed. I suspect I'm not the only person who feels that way, BTW.
5. Jimmy Cliff -- The Harder They Come
A great song and a great voice, to be sure, and recognizably rock-and-roll, but at the same time it was indisputably...well, something else. If Sly Stone hadn't already titled an album A Whole New Thing, the movie soundtrack this astounding song derives from could easily have copped it.
4. Bruce Springsteen -- Spirit in the Night
The first time I heard this, the snare drum and near-mythic sax wail that open it hit me so hard that I thought I'd been wacked upside the head with a 2X4. Then I noticed the lyrics and had the absolutely eerie sensation that Springsteen had been reading my mail. Want to know what it felt like to be a a 20-something with no direction home in the early 70s? All you have to do is listen....
3. R.E.M. -- Radio Free Europe
Some records just have a vibe about them. Here's one (and the same can be said of Murmur as a whole) that has it in spades, a certain indefinable something that simply grabs you (or at least me) and won't let go. First time I heard it, I remember thinking it sounded simultaneously space age modern and as old as the hills. Still an apt description, actually.
2. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers -- King's Highway
From Into the Great Wide Open, and co-produced by Jeff Lynne, which I'd forgotten. In any event, after I first heard this I couldn't be bothered with the rest of the album, estimable as it is; I lost track of how many times I played the song. I should add that I hadn't heard it in a while, but I stumbled on the live version above last week and when Petty sang "I don't wanna end up in a room all alone/ Don't wanna end up someone that I don't even know" I just completely lost it.
And the Numero Uno mind blower, it's not even a contest, so don't give me any shit about this is ---
1. The La's -- There She Goes
Like "Tracks of My Tears" years before, when this first came out I played it over and over and over again in the hope of finally being able to hear into the sheer sonic density of it. I still do, from time to time, and to this day I haven't quite figured out what that twelve-string riff means. Or why Lee Mavers' voice sounds so simultaneously familiar and eerie. Or, finally, who she is and where the hell she's going.
Welcome to the “Best Rock 'n' Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part 4”, by Captain Al
Let me remind both you (Simels’ wonderful readers) and myself that these columns are about what I consider my favorite new music of the still new century. Coincidentally, I just happen to think the best has been made by women. And once again I will be throwing you a curveball with today’s selection: Rhiannon Giddens.
Her music (and possibly her) personality is a study in contrasts. She studied to be an opera singer. She is part of a movement to reclaim the banjo as an African-American musical instrument, And she's also a human rights activist.
Getting right to the point -- I think Rhiannon and her music could ONLY have been created in the 21st Century, precisely because of the traditions it draws on (stretching back hundreds of years). Which is to say I feel it could not have been created before now: it needed to percolate its various influences until OUR time.
Okay, let's examine some representative work. First, here she is as roots music creator:
Now let’s check her out on the banjo:
And finally, here are some of her semi-classical/operatic excusions:
Rhiannon presents quite a past and future for music, and I find her artistry both fascinating and beautiful. I wish I had some deep background to explain what makes her so special on a musical level but alas I don’t. So all I’ll say is -- just give into her magic and follow its wonderful paths.
You're right, Capt.; She's really something. I have to admit I was only fitfully aware of her work previously, but wow.
I mean, that evocation of Edith Piaf alone is kind of a jaw dropper. And the banjo stuff really makes you know who's records -- that superstar gal whose initials are Beyoncé -- sound like the work of a dilettante.
In any case, thanks for the music, pal, and I'm looking forward to episode five!!!
From that just-released Raspberry Park album I've been noodging you about lately, please enjoy the aforementioned Jersey guys and the niftiest cover of a Bruce Springsteen song imaginable.
Seriously -- a sorta tongue-in-cheek pop/punk version of "I'm on Fire"? What's not to like?
COMING TOMORROW: The next installment of Capt. Al's on-going series saluting pop music artists of the current century.
Hint: This one's a gal with folkie tendencies who's named after a fabulous hit song of the 70s.
From 2024, (possibly), please enjoy The Cheatles and their quite brilliant ode to everybody's favorite pre-Russian Revolution tsarist-beloved religious nut "Rasputin."
In case you're wondering, I stumbled across this over at YouTube yesterday, and my jaw still hasn't been seperated from my apartment floor.
From their just released (and brilliantly monikered) Raspberry Park, please enjoy power pop deities The Weeklings and their quite remarkable cover of the Fabs' Sgt. Pepper highlight "She's Leaving Home."
Attentive readers will recall my posting two earlier cool tracks from the album -- specifically, a Buffalo Springfield/Stones mashup and a glorious cover of "I've Just Seen a Face" -- but the above is, I think you'll agree, equally gorgeous and perhaps even more innovative. I mean -- the utterly surprising horns and guitars notwithstanding, I can't recall another cover of the song by anybody -- save perhaps Richie Havens -- that was particularly notewothy on any level.
In any case, having just perused the entire Weeklings album, I gotta say -- it's like totally wowsville and you need to get it now.
[I originally posted a version of this back in 2009 (oh god, oh god). As is my wont on these occasions, I've done some re-writing and made a few entry changes out of sheer guilt. Enjoy! -- S.S.]
Well, it's Friday, and once again I've run out of dumb topical jokes involving my Asian fille du whoopie Fah Lo Suee and the latest Republican/Trump outrage du jour.
Hey -- what can you do?
In any case, posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a few days.
But in my absence, here's a fun project for us all to contemplate:
Best or Worst Post-Beatles Song With Either the Word Week or a Specific Day of the Week In Its Title!!!
Self-explanatory, obviously, so no arbitrary rules. Although if you try to sneak in Loudon Wainwright's "April Fools Day Morn," or "Wild Weekend" or something similar, I will come to your house and taunt you unmercifully.
Get it? We're talking songs naming either actual days of the week or including the actual word "week."
And my Totally Top of My Head Top Ten is...
10. Tori Amos -- Wednesday
Not a particularly great song, but I've had a sneaking fondness for this woman dating back to that Crucify EP cover photo she did where she was naked except for a bunch of vegetables around her neck.
9. Elton John -- Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting
God, what a stupid song on every level. Have I mentioned I was never an Elton fan, mostly because of embarrasingly exploitive posturing drivel like this?
8. The Mamas and the Papas -- Monday, Monday
Pretty gorgeous, but mostly I'm including it as a way of repenting for the snide remarks the other day about the out of tune flute on "California Dreaming."
7. The Smithereens -- Groovy Tuesday
Originally heard on Especially For You, which remains one of the great underrated albums of the 80s. This version is a solo performance by much missed head 'Reen Pat DiNizio, from back in 2000.
6. The Velvet Underground -- Sunday Morning
Lou's big Brill Building move on the Velvets' otherwise kinda scary debut LP. Seriously -- this is so pretty, The Monkees could have covered it.
5. Kaiser Chiefs -- Saturday Night
Not a fan of the Chiefs per se, but I thought it might be appropriate to have something originally written and recorded in the current century.
4. The Beatles -- Eight Days a Week
First anthologized, in this country, on the non-canonical American LP Beatles VI. As Cameron Crowe famously said of something else, you still can't buy a better record.
3. Blondie -- Sunday Girl
You know, it's not exactly a secret that I'm a sucker for a woman in a man's dress shirt and tie, but Ms. Harry was really to die for, wasn't she?
2. Small Faces -- Lazy Sunday
One of the most evocative "knickers up at the pub" songs of 60's Brit rock. And those little psychedelic breaks in the middle, with the chimes and organ, are just exquisite.
And the Numero Uno 7 Jours Par Semaine song of them all -- c'mon for a change I'm not exaggerating here and there really can't be any doubt about this -- obviously is...
1. The Easybeats -- Friday on My Mind
Oh puhleeeze -- you knew this was gonna be the one, right? A totally great song, and the amazing thing is that it's not even the Easys' best, although that remains a fairly well-kept secret outside of Australia.
To paraphrase the great Charles Pierce -- Is it a good day to post a classic track by The Smithereens?
It's ALWAYS a good day to post a classic track by The Smithereens!!!
The track in question, of course, is a fab cover of the 1965 proto-power pop masterpiece by The Beach Boys -- think Carl Wilson channeling The Beatles.
The 'Reens characteristically brilliant remake is from their first indie EP, which came out in 1980, i.e. a lifetime before they got signed by an actual national record label in 1986.
I was lucky enough to see the 'Reens do the tune live (at my then neighborhood watering hole, Kenny's Castaways in fabled Greenwich Village) on countless occasions before their commercial breakthrough. And if memory serves, I actually reviewed the EP in the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review.
From 1965, it's Phil Spector(!) on The Merv Griffin Show(!!).
With guests Eartha Kitt(!!!), Wally Cox(!!!!) and a frighteningly young Richard Pryor(!!!!!) on the celebrity couch.
Okay, that is remarkable on so many levels of Sixties Time Capsule that I can't begin to enumerate them. But you'll know what I'm talking about after you see it in its 15-minute entirety.
BTW, I dug up that clip because of yesterday's discussion of an Adele record being annoyingly out of tune.
More specifically, because I seemed to recall seeing Spector on the Merv show in real time, when I was a teenager. And during which Merv specifically asked Spector what he thought about music critics saying his hit records had pitch problems.
That exchange doesn't happen in the above clip, but I'm sure I saw it somewhere/sometime, and I'll keep looking for it.
I should add that, as I recall, Spector's pissed-off reply in said clip (and I'm paraphrasing) was "Hey -- the people who play on my records are the greatest musicians in the world, and they don't play out of tune."
Yeah, right. The Wrecking Crew, obviously. Who DON'T play out of tune.
But which doesn't change the fact that, in the real world, a lot of Spector's unquestionably great records actually SOUND a little out of tune.
I mean, it's not a state secret.
FRIGHTENING TRUE POSTSCRIPT: I met Ronnie Spector at some press party in the 90s, and the next day, the guy who introduced us called me up and said "Hey -- Ronnie thought you were cute. She said you reminded her of Phil."
From 2011, please enjoy endure vastly over-rated Brit chanteuse crime against nature Adele and her ear-piercingly awful "Someone Like You."
Seriously, I myself do not claim to have perfect hearing, especially at my advanced age, but Adele's vocal on that is so egregiously off-key in so many spots that when I heard it the other afternoon at my local watering hole I alternated between shaking my head in disbelief that it had ever been cleared for release and merely shrieking loudly in pain.
I never thought I'd be saying this, but -- where's that damn auto-tune when you need it?
And speaking of which, don't even get me started on Bruce Springsteen's vocal on "Going Down" or the flute solo on "California Dreamin'." 😎
Well, it's Friday, and you know what that means. Yes....
Hmm.
Okay, I got nothing.
Seriously, I find the current state of the world so exhausting of late -- and you know who and what I'm talking about -- that I simply don't have the energy to craft one of my stock opening topical jokes about my Asian fille de whoopie Fah Lo Suee and I going to visit somebody or something. My apologies, but ever since Trump's fans started wearing tampons on their ears, my get up and go has just got up and went.
So let's get right to business. To wit:
...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis individual pop star or group's collective exemplar of coolness (or non-coolness), visually, is...???
No aritrary rules, but just so we're clear -- we're talking coolness. I.e. on the sartorial, conceptual and attitudinal level, although your definition may vary, obviously. But basically, the stuff that makes rock-and-roll interesting in the first place.
Okay, here's my fave (and I'm sure you won't be surprised).
I mean, they're all just too cool for school, as we used to say. But -- Chrissie Hynde? That voice. That look. Those bangs. Whew --- what ever IT is, she's got it.
Oh, and my least favorite? These assholes.
Oh right, you're so groovy dressing up like a cat. Wow. Who amongst us didn't want to grow up to be a cat? Yeah, right -- that'll get the girls.
Okay, yes, I'm exaggerating about this, but only sightly; I find the critical respect for those guys (and my old friend and colleague Doug Brod has a well-regarded book out now making the case for them as artistes) absolutely incomprehensible on every level.
I mean, if you're gonna do crap like that, at least do what GWAR did...
...i.e., the same shtick, but obviously as a goof. Because if you do it seriously, like KISS, you will look like total putzes.
From 2004, it's The Who -- well, Roger, Pete and Zak -- and their tribute to "A Real Good Looking Boy." AKA Elvis the P.
I remember being moved close to tears the first time I heard that (as a bonus new track on a then current greatest hits anthology) but it had totally dropped off my radar since what feels like forever until I stumbled across it online over the weekend. And got misty all over again.
Apart from being a really smart, well-written record, with typically cool Townshend guitar flourishes, that's gotta be one of Roger's finest vocal performances, no?
From right now, i.e. their just released album Raspberry Park (heh), please enjoy The Weeklings and their freaking amazing new re-invention of The Rolling Stones(!) and Buffalo Springfield(!!) that is "Mr. Soul Satisfaction."
Featuring lead vocals by the utterly, and surprisingly, authoritative Peter Noone(!!!).
Attentive readers will recall these guys from February of last year, when I originally posted their fab gear version of The Beatles "I've Just Seen a Face".
But this new one just blows me the fuck away. I mean, please allow me to observe that it boggles the mind nobody's thought of doing its central trick before now.
Plus -- Peter fucking Noone? When did he get to be such a thoroughly convincing punk-edged rock singer?
I mean -- wow.
In any case, you can find out more about these guys -- including where they're gigging next and how to order the aforementioned new album (on CD or vinyl) -- over at their official website HERE.
[I originally posted a version of this back in 2008, and let's not even discuss how long ago that was. As usual, I've substituted some new entries and done some general rewriting, the idea being that you won't think I'm the lazy slacker I actually am. Thank you for your kind indulgence. -- S.S.]
Well, it's Friday, and you know -- or suspect -- what that means.
Yes, my congressional-manual-catharsis-technician Lauren Boebert and I will be following the road company of the new musical version of The Left Hand of God as part of their on-going tour of manicure joints at various shopping malls in safely Red states.
As a result, posting by moi will necessarily be somewhat fitful for a few days.
But until then, as always, here's a fun project for us all to contemplate:
BEST OR WORST POST-BEATLES COMMESTIBLE-THEMED POP/ROCK SONG OR BAND NAME!!!!
That's right, songs (and band names) referencing food and drink (nutritional value not important). Sorry about the post-Beatles thing, but otherwise there would be old songs too hideous/numerous to mention (so I won't mention any).
Another totally arbitrary rule: If anybody even mentions the band Bread, swear to god I'll take a hostage.
Why?
First of all, they mostly suck. Second of all, I am convinced they were in fact named in honor of money, not the staff of life.
Okay, here's my totally top of my head Top Ten:
10. The Murmaids -- Popsicles and Icicles
And speaking of Bread, I had no idea until yesterday that this pleasantly cheesy period (1964) piece of girl group schmaltz was actually written by Bread auteur David Gates. Hey -- I still think Bread sucks.
9. The Newbeats -- Bread and Butter
Also from 1964. I always liked this song, but until I found the video on YouTube I don't think I had ever seen the guys responsible for it, who are, let's face it, three of the biggest dorks ever. Interestingly (or tragically), the blonde guy in the middle went on to co-write Bette Midler's ever irksome "Wind Beneath My Wings."
9. Squeeze -- Black Coffee in Bed
I have a tendency to forget it, but these guys are fucking gods. I mean, wow.
8. Smashing Pumpkins -- Mayonaise
Believe it or not, I went through a period where I felt obligated to mention Billy Corgan and his pathetic bald dome in every Listomania I posted. Not sure why, except I figured I needed to be au courant.
7. ZZ Top -- TV Dinners
I was always partial to the Hungry Man Fried Chicken dinner, myself. Nice mashed potatoes and a cherry cobbler.
6. The Beatles -- Savoy Truffle
Not George Harrison's best song, perhaps, but the horns are a nice touch.
5. UB40 -- Red Red Wine
From the songbook of the great Neil Diamond, of course.
4. King Curtis -- Memphis Soul Stew
From Wiki: "On Friday August 13, 1971, at the height of a New York heat wave, King Curtis was carrying an air conditioner unit into his apartment at 50 W.86th St. He found his access blocked by two men administering drugs to themselves. He asked them to move. There was a scuffle, and one of the men, later identified as Juan Montanez, stabbed King Curtis in the heart with a knife. Curtis was hurried to Roosevelt Hospital, but was dead on arrival. The funeral was held four days later. As the mourners filed in, Curtis' Kingpins played an hour long version of "Soul Serenade" and a number of musicians got up to play. Jesse Jackson preached the service, and Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Cissy Houston, Brook Benton and Duane Allman were among those attending. Aretha sang the closing spiritual, 'Never Grow Old'. The Atlantic Records office closed for the day."
3. Hot Tuna -- Hesitation Blues
One of the things I loved about these guys was that they had actually wanted to call the band Hot Shit.
2. Blondie -- Eat to the Beat
I'll grant you drummer extraordinaire Clem Burke steals this one, but my god -- will you check out the cheekbones on the singer?
And the number one song about foodstuffs, it's so yummy that it's not even a contest so why are we talking, is --
1. Led Zeppelin -- The Lemon Song
What -- you mean it's not about citrus fruit?
Awrighty then -- what or who would your choices be?
And speaking as we were last week of Bruce Springsteen gifting his songs to other artists, from 1982, please enjoy Gary U.S. Bonds and his irresistibly catchy version of Springsteen's blue collar plaint about being "Out of Work."
And by the way, I just discovered this.
Gary's 2020 home remake, taking into account the COVID crisis.
Freaking hilarious. I didn't know Gary had it in him. 😎
The man who wrote and sang one of the greatest first generation rock-and-roll songs...
...has passed.
Have I mentioned that apart from being just freaking fabulous on every musical level, "Stay" -- which runs a mere 1 minute and 36 seconds -- is also the briefest Number One hit record in pop history?
That's pretty cool, obviously, but I should also mention that I suspect (cheap shot -- Jackson Browne notwithstanding) it's all but impossible to do a bad version of the song.
Which has been covered -- often to great commercial success -- on numerous occasions.
Hello The Hollies...
...and a big Jersey "yo! dude!" to The Four Seasons.
For what it's worth, the Seasons' version is pretty much my overall fave, and apparently Williams himself was also extremely fond of it. But here's one I was previously (until yesterday) completely unaware of.
Welcome to the “Best Rock & Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part 3”, by Captain Al
If last time (Part 2) we discussed wonderful “Lunchpail Musician” Sarah Borges, this time we swim in to the other end of the same musical pool to discuss Lydia Loveless. If Sarah represented the rootsy side of the type of music I love -- music influenced by the likes of say the Rolling Stones -- Lydia comes at us with Patti Smith and Americana vibes in her musical genes (jeans). She gives off a feeling of risk-taking in both her life and in her music. And her music challenges you -- she’s a wild child and smart as all hell!
Let’s start with an example of Lydia at her edgiest/most in your face musically:
That kind of performance and song is what originally attracted me to her. She rocks, has great lyrics and an in your face attitude. Basically, Lydia has it all.
From her most recent album:
You can see how more than ten years in the rock-and-roll game has simultaneously worn her down, sharpened her edges and made her continue being her defiant self!
Finally, a song from her her great documentary Who is Lydia Loveless?. Except the video itself isn't available to embed (you can see it HERE).
In many ways, minus the heavy “cosmic poetry” I consider Lydia the 21st Century’s Patti Smith. Words, music and attitude combined into a potent rock-and-roll mix. She truly is among the best of this century.
Alas, Lydia rarely tours in the New York area but the next time she’s around here I will finally catch her in live performance.
I have to!
Meanwhile if you don’t know her music it’s time to catch up! Just like Sarah and Feist she’s the real deal -- somebody who carries the rock-and-roll tradition forward into the 21st Century.
Alrighty, Captain! And may I just say, and for the record, that unlike Sarah and Feist, who I really hadn't paid much attention to until your recent endorsement, Lydia has been a total crush of mine since I first heard this one in 2014.
I mean -- wow. She's like my favorite rock-and-roll chick since Chrissie Hynde ever. No question.
In any case, thanks for the music, pal, and I'm looking forward to episode four next week!!!
Have I mentioned that this death shit is really starting to piss me off?
I was a fan of Greg Kihn pretty much from the beginning, by which I mean upon the release of the fabulous proto-New Wave sampler Beserkley Chartbusters in 1976 (which also included The Rubinoos, and don't get me started on them).
But before Kihn had his well-deserved MTV smash hits in the 80s, like this one you may recognize...
...there was this unsung (heh) classic.
"Rendezvous" -- from his killer 1979 LP With the Naked Eye.
Bruce Springsteen gifted Kihn that song (which had, insanely, been left off of Darkness on the Edge of Town, because Jon Landau is a blithering idiot). A gesture which, among other things, speaks well for the Boss's generosity and finely-tuned ear for kindred artists -- think "Because the Night"/Patti Smith.
In any case, IMHO. that song pretty much defines what power pop is -- starting with that Byrds-ian intro riff for the ages -- and Kihn's version is transplendent. I mean, I used to force people who came to my house to undergo it. No kidding -- I would make them sit down and listen to it before serving drinks and hors d'ouevres, and if they had a problem, tough shit.
I should add that Kihn also had a seperate highly successful post rock-star career as a deejay and a horror novelist, i.e. he was your basic Renaissance dude. I hate him, obviously.
I should also add that he died of Alzheimers, and yet was younger than me. Frankly, I find that incomprehensible for a zillion reasons.
Have I mentioned that this death shit is really starting to piss me off?
Yes, my Asian manual catharsis specialist Fah Lo Suee and I will be repairing to our local Forest Hills Mattress Firm outlet, to check out a possible inauguration gift for Republican VP candidate/futon assailant J.D. Vance.
You know -- just because.
That being the case, we'll be out of touch for a few days, and here's something to occupy us all till we return.
BEST OR WORST COVER (HEH) OF A GREAT SONG ORIGINALLY WRITTEN/RECORDED IN THE '60S AND THEN REMADE AFTERWARDS!!!
No arbitrary rules, you're welcome very much.
Well, actually, I was gonna stipulate nothing originally done by The Beatles, but I thought better of it.
But just to be clear: we're talking about songs first popularized in the Sixties, i.e., in the period between the release of Alfred Hitchcock's classic horror film Pyscho in 1960 and the Stones' show-stopping performance at Altamont in 1969.
And then remodelled in the subsequent decades. Got it?
Okay -- and my totally top of my head Top Seven choices of great/not so great stuff is:
7. The Stranglers -- Walk On By (Dionne Warwick)
Let's just say lead singer Hugh Cornwell's vocals here lack the bruised romanticism of Warwick's epochal take on the song.
6. Michael Bolton -- When a Man Loves a Woman (Percy Sledge)
Yikes. I mean, I'm willing to concede that Bolton's heart was in the right place, but boy, does that suck.
5. The Jags-- Here Comes My Baby (Cat Stevens/The Tremeloes)
The Jags -- one of my favorite Brit New Wave skinny tie bands. The song itself is transplendent, of course.
4. Diesel Park West -- All Come to Meet Her Now (Skip Spence)
From that glorious 1999 tribute record in honor of the solo album by Moby Grape's tragic genius. This particular cut just kills me, but if I had more room, I would have included Robyn Hitchcock's contribution.
3. Tenacious D -- You Never Give Me Your Money (The Beatles)
I generally find these guys amusing, but this starts to get on my nerves about a minute into it.
2. The Rolling Stones -- Just My Imagination (The Temptations)
When that came out originally in 1978, Jagger gave an interview somewhere and said something to the effect that "'Imagination' sounds like a sort of average English band tuning up during a sound check." Boy. Talk about underselling yourself.
And the number one rehabilitation of one of those damned period pieces from the fuckin' Boomers' make-me-wanna-puke glory decade (I keed, I keed!) absolutely has got to be...
1. Gerry Devine -- 5D (The Byrds)
Okay, I'm prejudiced, but that's just fucking great. I mean, when Gerry told me he was gonna do a Celtic remake of the Byrds cosmic psychedelic folk-rock classic, you could have knocked me over with one of those avian flight appendages
Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
POSTSCRIPT:Thoughts on the late Greg Kihn on Monday.
From just now in 2024, please enjoy wonderful be-Rickenbackered Irish pop/rocker Barry Walsh...
...and his infectiously Revolver-ish debut solo single "Rescue Me."
To paraphrase Chico Marx, that's a good one, eh boss? I mean, as its auteur says, and not immodestly in my opinion, it has "more hooks than a Fisherman's hat."
(It's also quite a wonderful palate cleaner after yesterday, and none too soon, I'd say, but of course that's a seperate issue.)
In any case, I'm informed that Barry used to be in a '90s Irish power pop band called The Fireflys, who were named after Groucho's character in Duck Soup, so I love them unreservedly. (Here's a fab video of them on Irish TV back in the day). I am also informed that the above new song was mastered at the legendary Abbey Road studio and is now available on the charmingly monikered Rufus(heh!) Records label.
You can find out lots more about Barry -- and listen to more of his music -- over at his official website HERE.
So speaking as we were on Monday of David Crosby's notorious ode to El Gibbety stuff, here's Sally Kellerman -- yes, her -- and her inexplicably lost to history 1973 cover version of Dave's "Triad." In stereo, no less.
Okay, that's amazing on so many levels I don't know how to begin.
For starters -- dig the production/arrangement credits. That would be Ron Dante (who sang lead on The Archies' "Sugar Sugar") and Barry Manilow, who...well, you know what he's notorious for.
For another thing, I had no idea Kellerman -- who I'm a huge fan of, if for no other reason than that second Star Trek pilot she was in --
-- had a music career of any sort.
But hey, Wiki informs me she actually was signed to Verve(!) Records in 1968. Who knew?
Even more astonishing by my lights, I was on the Bell Records mailing list when that single originally came out, and it is incomprehensible to me that it could have crossed my desk at Stereo Review without my noticing that a song by the Byrds was being remade. Let alone a song quite so...er, controversial.
Of course, in fairness, by 1973, that probably just seemed like the kind of sleazy swingers anthem that could have, plausibly, had some commercial success.
And I can easily imagine hearing it as background music on an underground sensation Manhattan Cable Channel J porn show like Al Goldstein's Midnight Blue...
...while Ron Jeremy and Robin Byrd...
...rolled around, sans underwear, on a badly dry-cleaned gym mat.
Welcome to the “Best Rock & Roll Music of the 21st Century, Part 2”, by Captain Al.!!!
My good musical buddy Billy Roues (‘The Roues Brothers’, ‘Finn & The Sharks’, ‘The Broadcasters’) coined a wonderful phrase for the 95% of working musicians who never rise to the top of the charts nor reach the level of success they deserve. But these musicians never give less then their best to the music they create and perform for us and of course for themselves.
Billy calls himself and all the others “LUNCHPAIL MUSICIANS”. All of us hardcore music lovers have met, seen and often befriended them. Today’s “Best Rock & Roll Music of 21st Century” is one of my favorite “LUNCHPAIL MUSICIANs” -- Sarah Borges.
Sarah surfaced with the release of her first album Silver City in 2004; in my opinion one of the best debut albums of 2005 (I know, I know -- figure it out yourselves). But, dear reader, don’t think she lucked into the release of that album, or any of her other six albums and EP. She attracts top talent to work with her, like producers Paul Q. Kolderie, Steve Berlin and Eric “Roscoe” Ambel. Ambel, besides producing her three most recent records, is currently the lead guitarist (and featured player) in her touring band.
Sarah may have not have broken through to the commercial success she deserves, but she clearly has a lot of support -- and she’s earned it. She is constantly on the road (including tours of Europe) and her live act is tops and often joyful! Now that is “LUNCHPAIL MUSICIANSHIP” of the highest level.
Here’s a few of her top songs/videos.
First, a classic from her debut album: "Daniel Lee." The video was shot at Sun Studios.
From her recent album Love’s Middle Name, the music video of “House on a Hill”
And the aforementioned current touring band featuring Eric Ambel doing "Wouldn't Know You," from her current album Together Alone.
Sarah is as solid as any rock-and-roller out on the road today. She's going to be up here in Albany in September, and I can’t wait to see her and the band -- “Lunchpail” and all!
I gotta admit, I was not all that familiar with Borges, but that stuff is primo, Captain! Thanks for the heads up, pal, and I'm looking forward to episode three next week!!!
From 1969, please enjoy Jefferson Airplane and "Triad." Written by friend of the band and Byrds auteur David Crosby.
Inspirational verse:
You want to know how it will be
Me and him or you and me?
You both stand there your long hair flowing
Eyes alive your mind still growing
Saying to me
"What can we do now that we both love you?"
I love you too
I don't really see
Why can't we go on as three?
You are afraid, embarrassed too
No one has ever said such a thing to you
Your mother's ghost stands at your shoulder
Face like ice, a little bit colder
Saying to you
"You cannot do that, it breaks all the rules
You learned in school"
I don't really see
Why can't we go on as three?
And now the actual original Byrds version, also from 1969 (but unreleased until the 80s, for obvious reasons).
Two observations.
1. Lyrics notwithstanding, that's a pretty amazing piece of music, particularly the Airplane's chiming acoustic guitars and Jack Casady's chasm-deep bass. My old college band used to jam the instrumental track to it in rehearsals, and I gotta tell you, it was one insinuatingly gorgeous sound.
2. But the lyrics? Hey, I like an overcrowded Barcalounger occasionally as much as the next perv (I keed, I keed!!!) but yipes.
I mean, sung by Grace Slick, i.e. a stylish sexy siren-esque woman, it's one thing. But by a fat balding hippie like Croz? When it's about using his pop star celebrity to get into the pants of some jailbait?
From 1973 and Journey's End, one of the great overlooked masterpiece albums of its decade, please enjoy original Procol Harum keyboard genius Matthew Fisher and his to-die for and very funny "Going for a Song."
Inspirational verse:
You can take the stained glass from my window
You can drink my whiskey and champagne
You can drive a plough across my golf course
But please don't make me sing that song again
You can put piranha in my swimming pool
Kick me and I just won't feel the pain
Scratch your name all over my Lamborghini
But just don't make me sing that song again
It's not because it's hard to reach those high notes that it makes me sad
But when I think what I used to be -- ooh
It makes me feel so bad
It's not that I dislike the words
Though I must admit there are better words around
But every time I hear that tune
It really brings me down
I don't mind you asking for my autograph
But please don't ask what happened to my friends
Please don't show me any more old photographs
And please don't make me sing that song again
Where to begin with how great that is? A hilariously sardonic lyric, an amazing vocal (Fisher has the endearingly nasal singing voice I always wished I had), and it's gloriously melodic and brilliantly arranged (those perfectly placed arpeggio guitars and the madly gorgeous keyboard work.)
Hell, the electric piano stuff alone is worth the price of admission.
And I don't know about you, but I just lose it -- by which I mean with laughter -- when he plays the organ line from "Whiter Shade of Pale."
And that leads us, inevitably, to the weekend's business. To wit:
...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/folk/country/hip-hop song/record referencing other songs, obliquely or explicitly, in its title or lyrics is...???
No arbitrary rules blah blah.
But if you're wondering about my fave (apart from the Fisher, obviously) it's...
I actually love the Olivia Neutron Bomb Newton-John original of that, but Hatfield's relatively recent (2018) cover is pretty much my favorite female vocal of this century so far. So sue me.
Okay, this song just popped into my head unbidden yesterday.
From Brinsley Schwarz's 1970 sophomore album Despite It All, it's Nick Lowe's brilliantly soulful showcase "The Slow One."
People forget that before they transitioned into the ironic/vaguely roots-ish good time pub-rock band they are mostly remembered as, the Brinsley's were actually something verging on LA prog-rock; kind of a cross between CSNY and Yes. I actually loved their first two albums in that vein when they originally came out, although I'm definitely more of a fan of their later work.
In any case, has anybody noticed that the drop-dead gorgeous bridge to "The Slow One" is about as Procol Harum-y as you can get?
So fab guitarist and all around cool guy/ex-McCoy Rick Derringer turned 77 on Monday last.
Which suddenly brought to mind "Beat the Clock," his old band's absolutely brilliant psych/pop masterpiece from 1967. A record which should have been a much huger hit.
I think you'll agree that everything about that is great, beginning with the lyric (and no better one has ever been written about its subject, i.e. aging and the grim passage of time) and Derringer's glorious Wes Montgomery-influenced lead guitar work. Of which, BTW, nothing similar had previously been heard on Top 40 radio.
POSTSCRIPT: To my delight and surprise, I just found out that a cover of the song (by The Islanders, a band world famous in their native Finland) translated into Finnish, a language not usually associated with rock-and-roll, actually WAS a huge hit over the aforementioned new NATO member's various media, also in 1967.
Seriously -- to the point where, or so I'm told, literally everybody in that country has not only heard it but can sing along to it.
Pretty cool video, no?
I think the McCoys version still gets the nod overall, but I gotta say -- that Finnish guy has a great set of pipes.
From 1968, please enjoy(?) the mysteriously monikered Lord Sitar and the dangdest performance of a Who classic ever.
In case you're wondering -- as opposed to running from your computer screaming in horror -- Lord Sitar was the nom du disque of the late great Big Jim Sullivan, the justly celebrated British session guitarist who played memorable licks on countless (mostly English) hit records including Tom Jones' "It's Not Unusual." A very interesting guy apparently, this and another earlier all-sitar album notwithstanding.
In any case, I bring the whole sordid business up because I stumbled across the above at YouTube the other day, and I just had to share. That's the kind of guy I am. 😎
Music more appropriate to the theme of this here blog resumes on the morrow.
From 2014, please enjoy in breatheless wonder the sensitive stylings of veteran cowpunks Nashville Pussy(!) and their tenderly romantic ode to "Before the Drugs Wear Off."
I don't know about you guys, but when I heard that song I thought -- god, I wish I was still dating.
Needless to say, my reaction was -- where have those guys been all my life? And, yeah, I'll probably be spending the rest of the week researching the rest of their ouevre.
(Don't worry -- I won't flog that publically. Heh...he said flog.)
And speaking of inspirational verse -- it's gonna be hard to top this.
Well you're meaner than shit
Hotter than hell
10 months pregnant but you can't even tell
You got it all, you got it all
Let's get it on before the drugs wear off
I should also add that their most recent (2018) album is called Pleased to Eat You. As the kids say -- I'm not worthy.
What -- you mean she DIDN'T actually buy a copy of that Floor Models album?
Heh.
In any case, this leads us to the weekend's business. To wit:
...and your favorite (or least favorite) explicitly-or-implicitly politically themed post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/country/hip-hop song/record is...???
Yeah, yeah -- I know, I've posted something similar in years gone by (in 2015, actually) but I think that given the news of the last couple of weeks, you'll probably agree with me that it's newly pertinent.
In any event, no arbitrary rules; obviously there are going to be lotsa protest tunes getting the nod, but there are also scads of songs that are political in nature without being specifically about real individuals or actual events.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, here's MY all-time fave.
I mean, apart from just being a great piece of work on every musical level, that was also a Top 10 hit blasting out of radios everywhere within a couple of weeks of the outrage that inspired it.
Say what you will about CSNY, but I can't think of any artists in pop history who ever pulled off something similarly amazing.
Oy gevalt. Courtesy of a friend (with a sense of humor, obviously) here's what may be the oldest surviving example of me pontificating about pop music in a thoroughly embarrassing and uninformed manner.
The short version: Cakes and Ale was the (for want of a better word) newsletter of the English Department at my alma mater, CW Post College. My memory is unclear on this, but somehow I conned the Powers That Were into letting me write pretty much what ever I wanted to (about anything) and they would then foist it in the above form on the unsuspecting campus community.
Hey, it was a long time ago.
About the above specifically, I have little to say, although it's nice to know I was full of shit even then.
Also, I would like to believe that my reference to Dave Davies' "bitchy guitar" was some kind of bizarre typo, but who knows?
And I should also add that the appellation Lamont Pimplione(!) in the opening quote is, apparently, a joke whose point has long since escaped me.
An idiosyncratic blog dedicated to the precursors, the practioners, and the descendants of power pop.
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