How they were able to do that without auto-tuning is beyond me. 😎
Coming tomorrow: We revisit a PowerPop New Years Day classic. Okay, perhaps "classic" is too strong a word. 😎😎
Coming Friday: A sure to be entertaining new Weekend Listomania. Okay, perhaps "sure to be" is... 😎😎😎
That's Art Gecko, in case you were wondering. 😎
As seems to be a tradition around here, the classical one is my favorite. 😎 😎
And in case you're wondering, the critique originally ran in the December 1980 issue of the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review, and IMHO it holds up pretty well. My memory is that the movie itself really sucked, but I think I nonetheless made a not implausible case for the soundtrack album being at least meh. 😎
I should add that the vinyl edition is long out of print, although if you're among the curious and the kooky, Amazon has some reasonably priced copies available over HERE. To my surprise, the album seems never to have been reissued on CD, which hardly seems a cultural tragedy, however. 😎😎
[h/t Pat Thomas]
...and the one, single, stand-alone post-Elvis pop/rock/folk/country/r&b/jazz album you dislike (okay, hate) most intensely compared to all others and have since its original release and it's your story and you're sticking with it is...???
Discuss.
Wow -- peace on earth, good will to men, and all that stuff, right? 😎
Long time readers (by which I mean folks who've been around here since 2009, when I originally published the screed excerpted and slightly rewritten in the following paragraphs) will doubtless be able to guess my candidate.
But don't mince words, Steve -- tell us what you really think (thought).
I should add that, believe it or not, I've actually kinda mellowed on Bowie, generally, in my old age. I still can't think of another single album I dislike as much, however. 😎😎
It's official -- I consider David Bowie's Pin Ups to be not only one of the Three All-Time Worst Albums of Rock Cover Versions Ever Made, but also to be among the worst sets of interpretations of any kind of music -- including classical -- in the history of recorded sound.
Okay, that last may be an overstatement, but I stand by the Three Worst Covers Album thing.
(In case you're wondering, the other two are Bryan Ferry's 1973 These Foolish Things and Duran Duran's 1995 Thank You. The former, I think, is an utterly appalling concept record in which Ferry, nitwit that he was, advances the idea that Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall" has something in common artistically with Lesley Gore's "It's My Party" other than the fact that both were originally recorded by sentient mammals. The latter, on the other hand, is merely a sloppy mess in which one of the world's most useless bands pays tribute to its non-roots and tries, unsuccessfully, to convince the world that Simon Le Bon has any business performing a Public Enemy song.)
Anyway, the main reason I so utterly loathe the Bowie album is that the entire attitude it exudes (reeks of, might be a more accurate phrase) is a "Look at Me I'm Wonderful!!!" contempt for the source material. The album, IMHO, is the work of a guy who's convinced that these silly little songs, AND the people who recorded them, are ever so trivial and ridiculous, so thank god that he -- The Greatest Star -- is deigning to give them a little undeserved, reflected, acclaim in his trademark bullshit campy ironic way. Not to mention that the singing is flatout awful; the affectless, emotionless, pretentious pseudo-operatic croon Bowie subjects the songs to is light years removed from the punkish snarl and passion that most of them (with the possible exception of The Mersey's "Sorrow") require.
And just to spread the blame around, let us not forget (actually PLEASE let us forget) Aynsley Dunbar's drumming. Everything he does on the record is overplayed, underlined, and generally reduces the songs to sludge.
Have I mentioned that I hate the goddamn album?
But okay then -- what would YOUR choice be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
[I've posted a slightly different version of this on several previous Christmases; consider it one of those internet traditions you've heard so much about. -- S.S.]
Ahem. So. Way back in December of 2007 -- when the world, myself and this here blog were young -- I found myself, quite improbably, falling in love.
And the Christmas song I kept hearing in at least two TV commercials at the time was the ineffably touching "All That I Want" by The Weepies.
Which, as it turned out, was, improbably, about the improbability of somehow finding the right person to fall in love with.
Above the rooftops
The full moon dips its golden spoon
I wait on clip clops
Deer might fly
Why not? I met you
All these years later, I still can't hear the thing without getting a little misty, sentimental old fluff that I am. So I thought I'd share it once again...as sort of a Christmas card to you all.
And to a certain Shady Dame,let me just say, and for the record -- I love you, babe. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. 😎
But please -- don't even ask about the mistletoe. 😎
[h/t George Cullinan]
Mariani's apparently been doing stuff like the above since the '80s, but I must confess to having been unaware of him until this past weekend, when friend of PowerPop Mark Rosenblatt played the song (after two by the Floor Models -- thanks Mark!) on his radio program, which airs (and streams) every Saturday morning (betwee 10am and Noon) on WPKN-FM 89.5, from Bridgeport Connecticut. You can find out more over at the station's website HERE, and come to think of it they have a very good archive, so you can listen to the most recent show in its entirety.
In any case, that song just slays me, so I'm going to be doing the research on this Mariani guy. I'll keep you posted on what I unearth.
Seriously -- how come none of you bastid kids ever hipped me to that clip before I accidentally discovered it last week?
I should add, and I've said it before and it still behooves repeating, that yes, I have the raving hots for that woman -- who I've never witnessed in concert, alas. Also alas, I know that if we ever, er, actually got together in a carnal sense I wouldn't be able to survive the foreplay, and that's not just because of my current advanced age; if we'd hooked up when I was as young as she is now, she still would have killed me. 😎
But that being said, and with no further ado, it's onward to the weekend's thematically related business. To wit:
...and the contemporary/post-90s/21st century pop/rock/r&b/folk/country solo artist or group you regret not having seen live, and would in fact sell someone near and dear to you to obtain tickets to a forthcoming show if they're still active (the artist, not the person dear to you😎) is...???
Discuss.
No arbitrary rules you're welcome very much, except I'm gonna be strict about the "nothing before the Aughts" thing; this is strictly post-classic-whatever. And if you've read the above you already know who I regret not encountering in person (yet).
Of course, my second pick would be THIS woman, who I also had the hots for. And alas, of course, it was not to be. 😎😎
But in any case -- who is/are YOUR choice(s)?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
That's the Springsteen song (from his first album) obviously, and originally recorded by Amos for her Strange Little Girls project, which is being reissued on vinyl with four bonus tracks end of next February.
Long time readers are aware that I have a kind of sneaking affection for this woman and her work, largely deriving from the EP she did in 1992 featuring an ace piano/vocal rendition of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and an album cover where she posed wearing a necklace made out of what most people would consider, er, side dishes.
In any event, Strange Little Girls -- which I was previously unfamiliar with -- is a concept album of sorts, in that all the songs were originally written by men, but then recast by Amos from the perspective of a female character she created for each of them. I apparently missed it by design when it was first released, but having now heard the above -- which, admittedly, does get a couple of the chord changes wrong, which irks me -- I think I'm gonna give the album a chance when the vinyl comes out.
I bring them up because a) the other day we were having a discussion of the rampant mediocrity of too much contemporary pop music and a little earlier b) we were having some fun at the expense of World's Most Irksome Rock Critic Amanda Petrusich of the New Yorker.
And then I discovered a new Petrusich essay on Geese that a) effortlessly demonstrated the inter-relation between the two themes and b) justified my 2021 characterization of Petrusich as the kind of deeply sensitive soul who underlines passages in slim volumes of poetry and then writes "How true!" in the margins.
To wit: From the December 15, 2025 issue. [All emphases mine -- S.S.]
Even “Taxes,” possibly the most euphoric song on [Geese's new album] "Getting Killed", is both darkly funny (“If you want me to pay my taxes / You better come over with a crucifix / You’re gonna have to nail me down”) and just dark (“Doctor, doctor, heal yourself / And I will break my own heart / I will break my own heart from now on”). These songs lean heavily on the marvel of [lead singer Cameron] Winter’s voice...
Ah yes, as you can hear in the clip above, it's the marvel of Winter's voice fer sure. Wow -- I can't think of a singer in the entire history of pop recordings who has such a uniquely expressive vocal quality.
...and on the drummer, Max Bassin, who plays with enormous restraint but a great deal of emotion. (The percussion on “Husbands,” one of my favorite tracks of the year, is slinky, nervous, weird, perfect.)
Oh yeah -- that drummer's playing is SOOOO emotional and perfect. Keith Moon? Never heard of him. 😎
Let's reiterate -- the marvel of the singer's voice, and the slinky, perfect percussion of the drummer. Right.
Oh, okay, but forgetting those, why is this obviously lousy band so great?
Petrusich again:
There’s a base level of melancholy and loneliness to everything Winter writes, which might have to do with the state of the modern world, or perhaps with the time during which he came of age. Winter, who is twenty-three, had recently turned eighteen when the COVID pandemic hit New York. In an appearance on the video series “A View from a Bridge,” in which guests stand outside and tell a story into a red telephone, Winter spoke about buying a virtual-reality headset during that tenuous, gruesome spring. He started messing around on a V.R. chat, and one day found himself on a Russian server set at a gas station in Siberia. He came upon two lovers in the snow. “Something about that was very tragic,” he said. “It was a very human moment and I think about it all the time.” It is possible that “Getting Killed” and its predecessor, “3D Country,” from 2023, are the first two great works of COVID-era music—not so much in their evocation of the events themselves but in the way the pandemic’s contours of isolation and fear seem to have shaped Winter’s consciousness at such a crucial moment in his life.
Wow. The COVID generation. Let's really hear it for them, ladies and germs.
I mean, the Boomers had the ever-present threat of nuclear annihilation, the fight against Jim Crow, the murders of two Kennedys and Martin Luther King, the Vietnam War, the killings at Kent State, the struggle for Gay Liberation and the nightmare of the AIDS epidemic to deal with. And yet somehow they managed to muddle through and become Yuppie assholes. 😎😎
But COVID -- wow again. Those kids just can't seem to recover from the soul-killing anguish of having to wear masks on the subway for a year.
Seriously, how do you say "what a load of bullshit" in Yiddish?
Brent was a lovely, sweet, funny guy and a brilliant engineer who ran a NYC recording studio that was probably the best I was ever fortunate enough to work at. He more or less co-produced every one of the musical projects I've been involved with since 2012 (that's like six or seven albums and two solo singles, if you're keeping score).
He was also a terrific drummer and something of an indie rock star in his native New Zealand, first with the Sonic Youth-ish The Gordons and -- as recently as some gigs down under in 2024 -- with the more shoe-gazey Bailter Space.
I'll say it again -- this death shit is really starting to piss me off. And this time it's personal.
Yeah, yeah, yeah...nice Jewish girls and who gives a shit.
Seriously -- the album that's from (I Quit, or as I like to refer to it, If Only) is making a lot of critics Best-Of lists for 2025, and given that I've never mentioned these kids here before, I just gotta say, and for the record, that I totally don't get it. Bloodless, soulless, too cute for words MOR without a single element of interest, either vocally or instrumentally.
Of course, I feel pretty much the same about most of the rest of current/contemporary commercially successful pop, but even so...😎
Hey -- wait a minute. That's obviously a subject for this weekend's business. To wit:
Most current/contemporary commercially successful pop music -- yay or nay? Your thoughts.
Discuss.
Now granted, the above may seem like critical laziness on my part, but swear to god I've been meaning to ask y'all about that for what seems like ages. And in case you haven't guessed, my feeling is that most of today's music is by and large the crappiest it's ever been in my lifetime. Or at least since the pre-rock early Fifties. I mean, like "How much is that doggie in the window" crappy.
In any case, I should add that I'm enforcing no arbitrary rules here, although I must emphasize the whole "commercially successful" parameter. Which is to say we're talking Taylor Swift-adjacent or nearby, sales-wise; some obscure indie not-even-a-cult act that nobody but you has ever heard of should not enter into the discussion. 😎😎
Alrighty then -- what would YOUR opinion be on this weighty topic?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
The short version -- it's from an actual 1971 major label (RCA) album by heavy-metal/psych band The Third World. And a rock crit friend of mine actually saw them do this live at the original Capitol Theatre.
Here are the lyrics.
Was let loose upon the people
Hitler is alive and well (in you)
He was just a man, a boy, my friend
Persecution, hate and violence
What he's loved it is to listen
Do with our blood-red power
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!
On the bleak and barren morning
Back in 1889
Something lethal and appalling
Of an evil black design
Of a planet all so small
And the mention of his name
Would turn the angels' blood to gall!
Hitler is alive and well (in you)
Hitler is alive and well (in you)
Who loved his blackened toys
And in just a span of ten short years
He uniformed his boys
And his mother filled his head
And the glory that he left behind
Look at six million dead!
To that fake God-caging lines
Say the evil men shall perish
And there where we are acclaimed
Of a man who spouts his will
And the silent through majority
Are the ones that wanna kill!
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!
The Third World? Okay -- these guys are NOT to be confused with the long-running Jamaican reggae band of sort of the same name. That said, alas, I haven't been able to find much biographical data about them; apparently they were from NYC, had some vague connection to Vanilla Fudge, and broke up shortly after the release of the album.
The Hitler thing, though...Wow. 😎
Or as Cristina Applegate famously remarked on Married With Children -- "the mind wobbles." 😎😎
[h/t Jim Farber]
Have I mentioned that this death shit...oh hell, you know the rest.
In any case, that's pretty fab, no? Like, one of the best Beatles live performances ever committed to film?
Incidentally, the guys who introduce the lads are beloved Brit comic duo (Eric) Morecambe and (Ernie) Wise, who the great critic Kenneth Tynan once noted "had a unique dynamic -- Ernie was a comedian who wasn't funny, while Eric was a straight man who was." 😎
[h/t Capt. Al]
As I said when I first posted about these guys in 2010 (yipes!):
What we wanted was chain lightning
What we wanted was 8 miles high
What we wanted was free fallin' and our turn to fly
What we wanted was more fireworks
Everlasting 4th of July
What we wanted was more stars in a bluer sky
All we wanted was something worth it
Worth the labour, worth the wait
Then they take you up to the mountain
And you see too late...
In the middle of a good time
Truth gave me her icy kiss
Look around, you must be joking
All that way, all that way for this?
That's about as close to actual poetry as pop music gets or should get; certainly, it sums up the whole cosmic dilemma of life thing as well as any song I can remember off the top of my head. Not to mention the band absolutely kills in a Celtic modal rave-up sort of way.
I'll stand by that description, although I must add in sadness that when I decided to revisit the song the other day, I (as today's youngs put it) did the research. And found that, while they remain active, Oysterband officially retired from touring just last August. A pretty good run by any standards, obviously.
In any case, you can hear more of their music, and keep abreast of their post-retirement musical activities, over at their official website HERE.
Tá fáilte mhór romhat. That's Irish for "you're welcome very much," in case you were wondering. 😎
As you are doubtless aware, the song's original recorded incarnation -- on the Velvet Underground's (for me life-changing album) Loaded, in November of 1970 -- was edited down from a longer version. Somebody -- Lou himself, perhaps, or maybe somebody at the record company (this has been lost in the primordial mists of time and in any case has been much argued) decided to excise the song's bridge, which was finally restored for the 1995 Velvets box set Peel Slowly and See.
In case you haven't heard it in a while, here it is -- usually referred to by fans as that "Heavenly wine and roses thing" -- for your audio delectation.
Which leads us, inexorably, to the subject of the weekend's business. To wit:
Does the inclusion of the "Heavenly Wine and Roses" bridge hurt or help "Sweet Jane" as a song?
Discuss.
Ahem. So as I suspect no one will be surprised to learn, my feeling is it hurts. Big time. IMHO what's particularly great about the familiar version of SJ is the sheer simple perfection of the four greatest chords in the history of rock; anything that interferes with that is like drawing a mustache on the Mona Lisa, i.e. nothing short of blasphemy.
But that's just me. What do YOU guys think?
And don't hold back -- you won't be bruising my fee fees, I promise you that. 😎
And in the meantime -- have a great weekend, everybody!!!
Ice Ice Lemmy, maybe? 😎
In any case, an absolutely thought provoking Weekend Essay Question arrives on the morrow -- scout's honor.
Man, does that suit her voice/vocal range or what?
I hadn't heard that before I stumbled across it on YouTube the other day, and I have to say it blew my tiny mind. Apparently, it was done in 2016 for the soundtrack of the final season of The Good Wife, the highly acclaimed political thriller serial (on CBS) that I somehow managed to miss as well.
In any event, that may be the best "Sweet Jane" cover ever, and I say that as a) somebody who used to sing the song live with my old garage band chums The Weasels and b) has sworn by Mott the Hoople's Bowie-produced version for several decades now.
May I say again -- wow? 😎
Okay, I don't know who was responsible for that last one -- it wasn't me, honest -- but I think it's kind of on the money anyway. 😎
Man, those kids really have the Revolver guitars and vocal harmonies down, don't they?
Can't seem to find a detailed bio of them anywhere online so I'm not sure how long they've been doing this sort of thing, although they're apparently highly regarded as a live act in the land Down Under. That said, you can dig more of their music, and find out a little more about them, over at their official website HERE.
G'day, mates!
[h/t Michael Conroy]
A HISTORY OF MUSIC TIMELINEEarly Music -- chants, grunts, banging
Greco-Roman -- flutes, harps, shepherds
Medieval -- monks singing in unison, some broad named Hildegarde
Renaissance -- lutes, high tenor voices
Baroque/Classical -- opera, Masterpiece Theater
Romantic -- Strings, tuneful, Lincoln Center
Modern/Contemporary -- chants, grunts, banging
I don't know who wrote that, BTW, but apart from it being very droll, I am also of the opinion that it's basically accurate.
Especially the "chants, grunts, banging" part. 😎
Which brings us, inexorably, to the subject of the weekend's business. To wit:
George Harrison famously told John Lennon to listen to Bob Dylan's lyrics. Lennon responded "I don't listen to the words."IMHO, the greatest pop records ever made are almost mostly all about the music. They sound like what the lyrics say, to the point you don't need to actually listen to the words; lyrics are merely the icing on the cake. For example, if you don't speak English, and can't understand what Jagger is actually carrying on about in "Satisfaction," the record will still mean the same thing to you as if you could. Because the sound of what the band is playing behind Jagger speaks perfectly clearly to the song's meaning.
So -- that being the case, what is a post-Elvis rock/soul/country/folk record with perhaps not particularly good, trite or overtly asinine/nonsensical lyrics (or merely chants, grunts and banging) that you love to death anyway???
Discuss.
In case you were wondering, my fave -- hands down -- is...
I mean, that doesn't even HAVE lyrics -- just a lot of non-linguistic yelling.
And yet, you know exactly what it's about, don't you. 😎😎
Alrighty then -- what would YOUR favorites be?
And have a great post-Thanksgiving weekend, everybody!!!
.....and their utterly gorgeous live version of original organist Matthew Fisher's "Pilgrim's Progress." With Gary Brooker singing Matthew's part from the studio version.
Pilgrim -- get it? It's not rocket science, kids. 😎
As long-time readers may recall, this song is something of a Thanksgiving tradition around here by now, but I thought I'd try to do it a little differently this year. Hence my delight earlier this week when I discovered the above clip, which I had not seen previously.
Meanwhile, for now, enjoy the cranberry sauce and stuffing, everybody!!!
And get ready for a way cool Weekend Essay Question on the morrow!!!
U-Haul & Oates. Heh. 😎
Have a great holiday, everybody!!!
That's one of the Great Lost Singles of the Eighties for sure. Come to think of it, those guys are one of the Great Lost Bands of the Eighties as well.
Anyway, I bring it up because that video -- which was briefly in heavy rotation on MTV back in the day -- has been unavailable online for public consumption for quite a while (some kind of legal issues, or so I'm told). So I was delighted when I recently discovered that it had shown up on YouTube again.
I should add that the Broadcasters aforementioned album is killer from stem to stern -- totally rocked out in a sort of classic proto-pop punk, Brit Class of 66-68 way; think The Yardbirds meet The Move and then they all go out to lunch at Boston Market. It's long out of print, alas, but you can -- and should -- pick up a good used copy (CD or vinyl) over at Amazon HERE.
Meanwhile, because I love you all more than food, here's a 1990 live clip of a later incarnation of the band (as The Roues Brothers, under which moniker they continue to perform to this day) having a go at Them's "Gloria."
Featuring some guest asshole whose name rhymes with Sleeve Nimels up front on vocals. 😎
It's a long story, but let's just say that (as you can probably see) everybody involved was having a very good time. 😎😎
SARAH BRIGHTMAN
Dive
A&M 31454 0083 (52 min)
Enya on helium? New Age electro-pop from hell? Whatever it is, it's courtesy of the Phantom of the Opera ingenue formerly married to the equally annoying Andrew Lloyd Webber, and I say get it outta here. Docked numerous points for a horrendous cover of Procol Harum's "A Salty Dog," which the without-a-clue chanteuse strips of all melodic interest or drama. -- S.S.
We used to run like half a page of those little mini-blurbs (called Quick Fixes -- my title) every issue, and it was pretty much my favorite thing to write for the pop review section. I literally could say anything I wanted and nobody gave me any editorial grief. Ah, those were the days.
Oh, BTW, -- here's that Brightman version of "A Salty Dog." I'm pleased to discover that it's as bad as I made it out at the time.
P.S.: From an actual contemporary review (not sure by who) of the Broadway Phantom -- "Sarah Brightman couldn't act scared on the IRT at 4 in the morning!" 😎
BTW, just for the record (as it were), I should say I'm a huge fan of Tommy Tutone, who are unfairly dismissed as one hit wonders IMHO.
I mean -- c'mon. This one, which was actually the band's first Top 40 record, absolutely freaking slays me.
I should add that back in 1980, when I had just switched from playing guitar to bass (as we were getting the Floor Models together) I used to hone my four-string skills by playing along with that. I mean, what a fabulous groove.
In any case, I bring the whole thing up because it leads us, inexorably, to the subject of the weekend's business. To wit:
...and your favorite (or least favorite) post-Elvis pop/rock/soul/folk/country song with numerals in its title is...?
Discuss.
So -- my favorite?
That's from Steppenwolf's (to me) inexplicably underrated sophomore effort; it's a minority opinion, I know, but I think it's one of the greatest hard rock (in the old fashioned sense) albums ever.
And my least favorite?
Hey -- I like a lot of bubblegum stuff from that period. That song, however? I think the word is "yucky." Especially in the contemporary context of the Epstein files. 😎
Alrighty then --- what would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!!
The Plant and Page one absolutely kills me. 😎
A droll new Weekend Essay Question on the morrow, promise.
The magic [! - Ed.] of Parker’s music -- what makes his records so restless, dithery, dynamic -— hinges on the minuscule yet crucial difference between perfectionism (endlessly boring) and obsession (endlessly interesting). “Everyone thinks I’m a perfectionist,” Parker said. “That’s the assumed narrative when someone orchestrates a whole album -— the Brian Wilson idea. But if people actually saw me in the studio, and saw how little I cared about so many things...” He paused. “On the backs of my albums, you’ll see a photo of a microphone meant for singing pointing at the kick drum, held up with a wine rack. I’ve just never really given a shit about that. I would love for it to sound better, because I respect a lot of big pop producers.” He added, “You always worship what you don’t feel you are.”
Yeah, right -- magic. And I'm Marie of Romania.
I should add that elsewhere in the piece Petrusich informs us that Parker's music is "shaped in part by the spirit of bush doofs, all-night dance parties thrown in rural, off-the-grid locales," and that the term "doof" started "as a derogatory word to describe club music, because from a distance all you hear is doof, doof, doof."
Apparently, it never occured to her that Parker's music might be characterized in that way because Parker is, in fact, a doofus. 😎
BILLY IDOL There wasn’t a lyric sheet with the original Horses. And “Kimberly,” I had no idea that it was about a sister of hers. I thought that she was singing to, you know, sisters as in feminism or whatever. The interplay of the musicians was fantastic. You can hear it in “Horses,” you can hear it in Television. In England we were watching what was going on in the States, and we wanted a scene of our own like that.The structure of the song is very classic. All the different parts, the way it builds up, it’s almost got a ’60s thing to it. They’re taking guitar music and refreshing it, but at the same time not falling back on prog-rock. It flows really great, but it has all those different hooks. As the song progresses, each little verse changes it.
JOHNNY MARR The first song that the Smiths ever wrote, “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle,” was inspired by “Kimberly.” I knew Patti Smith was our common ground.
Well, THAT's interesting.
Seriously, I listened to Horses obsessively back when it was new -- it's not exactly a state secret that I've been a fan of Smith's since forever --
-- but I hadn't thought about "Kimberly" in ages, in part because I've never really cottoned to John Cale's production of the album. Which struck me then, as now, as being on the anemic-sounding side.
Still, it works on "Kimberly," which I have always found unaccountably and fiercely erotic, despite its subject matter.
BTW, I'm not 1000 percent sure, but I think that picture of Patti and your humble scribe at a Stereo Review Record of the Year party dates from early 1976, i.e. when we were giving Patti an award for Horses for 1975.
And in case you're wondering, the button I'm holding says "Back to Mono." 😎
Oh -- and I should add that the Horses reissue package, which features a newly remastered edition of the original album and lots of studio demos (most of them drummer-less) is available as either a 2 CD or 2 LP package.
If you're thinking of getting me a Christmas present, the vinyl would be nice. 😎😎
Have I mentioned that this death shit is really starting to piss me off?
As a result, I've discovered some pretty amazing non-anglo bands and songs of late, and my favorite is a group called Maná, a/k/a The Police of Mexico. Turns out they've been around since the early 80s, and they're hugely popular -- 45 million records sold, mostly in Spanish-speaking countries. Coincidentally, they got nominated for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame this year, the first band of their ilk to be so honored, although alas they didn't make the final cut.
Oh well, Quizás el año que viene. 😎
Anyway, I bring the whole thing up for a couple of reasons.
One -- as an excuse to post this Maná song from 1991, which I just heard for the first time at Mas Tortilla last week, and which I think is really cool.
I mean, dig that Rickenbacker guitar.
And two -- as an excuse to set up the weekend's business.
To wit:
Best Post-Elvis Pop/Rock/Folk/Country/Soul Song in English But With a Throwaway Quote, a Couple of Lines or a Verse or the Title, in a Foreign (European or Other) Language!!!
No arbitrary rules here, but I'm gonna enforce the Post-Elvis thing. And yeah, I did a shall we say less fully developed version of this Listomania back in 2007 (yipes!), but I figure the Statute of Limitations has run out on recycling it.
And my totally Top of My Head Top Six are:
6. The Beatles -- Michelle
"Michelle -- ma belle."
Optional Blindingly Obvious Award cheerfully accepted.
5. Warren Zevon -- Veracruz
Aquel dÃa yo jure
Hacia el puerto volveré
Aunque el destino cambio mi vida
En Veracruz moriré
Aquel dÃa yo jure
A drop dead gorgeous (ah, those mandolins and harp!) song from his Excitable Boy breakthrough. I meant to include this in that list of my favorite Zevons earlier in the week, but my senility precluded it.
4. Jay and the Americans -- Cara Mia
True story: Back when this was a contemporary hit (1965) some wiseguy at my local Top 40 station (WABC-AM) did a tape edit of the song so that the long-held high note Jay Black sings before the finale was extended for like half a minute (which sounded like an eternity). You never knew when that version was gonna be the one that they aired, but it was fucking hilarious, especially the first time you heard it and you briefly thought it might be real. I should add that I have never been able to find an audio clip of it or even any press mention that the prank had ever been pulled.
3. Tonio K. -- Funky Western Civilization
Still the only rock record ever made with a cameo spoken word section -- en français -- by Joan of Arc.
2. Talking Heads -- Psycho Killer
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
Hey, we all know the feeling, David.
And the number one use of an outré patois in an international hit recording clearly is...
1. Labelle -- Lady Marmalade
Inspirational verse: "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir."
Second optional Blindingly Obvious Award cheerfully accepted.
Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choices be?
And have a great weekend everybody!!!
But now comes a second video from the EP and all I can say is...Hole. E. Shit.
In a good way, obviously.
Wow. Are those guys a delightful bunch of sentimental old fluffs or what?
“This was the first song written for this record,” says lead guitarist Jonathan Sohn. “It’s based on a very-true Canadian legend that we made up about an expedition of ice fishers being eaten alive by a school of great white sharks near Hudson Bay. I had an old recording of an instrumental jam we did six or seven years ago that I really liked. I channeled my inner Serj and came up with something unlike anything we’ve ever done. When recording the demo our engineer almost fell out of his chair laughing during the blood curdling scream. He’s okay (I think). I needed to be authentic while channeling the plight of the victims of this totally-legit horrible tragedy. Thoughts and prayers.”
Seriously, that song just, er, kills me, and I can't wait to hear the rest of the EP.
Meanwhile, you can -- and should -- find out more about the band (and purchase the EP for streaming) over at their official website.
And for the as yet unconvinced, I should add that clips of the whole new record can be listened to for free OVER HERE.
If the band is to be believed, of course.
I must admit, it took me a few seconds to actually get that one. 😎
New music by a fabulous band from Canuckistan on the morrow.
Me, I've been a fan since forever, and to celebrate the induction I thought I'd pick three of my favorite Zevon songs. In chronological order, starting with a track from his self-titled debut album....
...which ends with an ineffably haunting vocal and instrumental evocation of the hum of an air conditioner, a feat of musical onomatopoeia that has continued to amaze me since I first wrote about it (for Stereo Review) back in 1976.
Then there's this piece of gorgeosity from his Exciteable Boy breakthrough.
You don't usually think of Zevon as a power pop guy, but I think the above -- which sounds like the greatest 60s Brill Building pop song never written (and which was hooky enough that it showed up in a neat Patty Larkin cover version at the end of the 1998 rom com Sliding Doors) -- kind of fits the esthetic of this here blog.
And then there's this, which is just a flat out hilarious masterpiece...
..that, in an irony I'm sure Zevon appreciated, turned out to be sadly prophetic.
Anyway, as Zevon famously said -- enjoy every sandwich!
Oh, and once again -- fuck you Jann Wenner!!! 😎😎😎
In lieu of that, however, I just wanted to share this fabulous photo of our late great pussycat The Incomparable Eddie© (taken five years ago).
Let's just say I know who he would have pulled the levers for last Tuesday. 😎😎
But now to the weekend's business. To wit:
...and the most disappointing performance by a pop/rock/soul/folk/country solo artist or group that you ever personally witnessed live was...?
For me, this one isn't even close. Ladies and germs, I give you The Rolling Stones famous (infamous?) 1975 flat-bed truck rendition of "Brown Sugar."
In case I haven't told the story about that before, the short version is that yours truly (then toiling at Stereo Review) plus pretty much everybody else I knew in the rock press and PR biz were invited (via Stones managment and Atlantic Records) to a noon-ish Rolling Stones press conference at a Fifth Avenue eatery in Greenwich Village; we were assured that finger food and drinks would be provided and that the boys in the band would answer our questions about their up coming summer tour.
When we got to the joint, Mick and company were nowhere to be seen, which didn't help anybody's bad mood about having to fight the traffic coming down from mid-town. But the late great absurdist comedian Professor Irwin Corey was there, and with a microphone. Given that he was professionally billed as "The World's Foremost Authority," this seemed appropriate, and so while me and the assembled freeloaders scarfed down wine and mediocre hors d'ouevres, Corey rambled on about I forget what for about half an hour. Not surprisingly, I sensed a certain impatience in the crowd, and then the cry went up -- The Stones!!!
Yup. We could see through the restuarant's front window that the band was rolling down Fifth Avenue, so we all -- I'd estimate there were about 300 of us, not counting amused passerbys -- made a dash out to the sidewalk.
At which point, the band -- I recall it was drizzly and cold -- knocked out a half-assed version of their big hit and then unceremoniously drove away. Leaving us all to return to our respective offices and tell our co-workers and friends that we had a) seen the Stones up close and personal and b) been suckered.
In any case, I would like to re-emphasize just how mediocre the band's performance was; in all seriousness, I relisten to that clip above every couple of years on the off-chance that it might sound better for some reason. And it never does.
Alrighty then -- what would YOUR choice or choices be?
And have a great weekend, everybody!!!
Apart from that being a great piece of jangly guitar pop and a fabulously polysexual video -- those guys are just so freaking cool I can't even stand it. Those guitars...those suits...those haircuts. I mean, they look like an '80s skinny-tie band gone to seed. 😎
Attentive readers, of course, will recall that my alternate watering hole here in Forest Hills, Queens -- a/k/a the Paris of the Northeast -- is a wonderful Mexican joint called MAS TORTILLA, and that from time to time they play el rock en español, rather than more traditional contemporary Latin pop, on their sound system. As a result, I've discovered some pretty amazing bands and songs of late; you can check out pretty much my favorite -- Maná, a/k/a the Police of Mexico, and "Stuck in a Bar" -- over HERE.
Anent those sightless lady wigglers, they have an official website apparently, but it seems there's technical issues with it at the moment. If you want to know more about them you can, however, check out their Facebook page por aquÃ.
Heh. 😎
And hah. 😎😎
Coming tomorrow -- a song and video actually having some connection to the raison d'etre of this here blog. Hint: ¿Cómo se dice “It'll blow your mind" en español?
...have a song on a new 4 CD box set from Cherry Red Records, aka the World's Coolest Label.
From the promo material:
In December 1973 Hilly Kristal changed the name of his roots music bar from Hilly’s on the Bowery to CBGB and altered his musical policy to hire mostly rock bands. He was indifferent to many of them (“No one is going to like you guys, but I’ll have you back,” he told Joey Ramone), blissfully unaware of how important his scruffy little club would soon become.We're on disc one, between The Dictators and The Dead Boys.In the span of only 15 months, the five groups that comprise the CBGB’s pantheon all debuted: Television in March 1974, followed by Ramones in August and Blondie in October, then Patti Smith in February 1975 and Talking Heads four months later.
Those five groups all quickly got record deals and became popular enough to outgrow CBGB’s. By the fall of 1977, Smith was the only one who was still playing there. What succeeded the Big Five was an array of new and retro styles, all of which feature here: No Wave (Sonic Youth, Mars, DNA, Bush Tetras), post-punk (Ritual Tension, Unknown Gender, Khmer Rouge), mutant funk and R&B (James Chance & The Contortions, Mink DeVille), art-rock bands (R.L. Crutchfield’s Dark Day, The Revelons, Erasers, Jeff and Jane Hudson) hardcore punk (Minor Threat, Bad Brains, Vatican Commandos, Beastie Boys), and lots of power pop (Sorrows, The dBs, The Rudies, The Miamis, The Paley Brothers) .
The club’s best-known bands are present on this compilation but we’ve also revived interest in dozens of unfairly forgotten acts that, for a moment in time, made an album, EP, 45, or even a demo that crackled with innovation, wit, and joy.
CBGB no longer exists, at least not in the physical plane, but what happened between those soot-filled, beer-stinking walls continues to reverberate around the world.
The box set features over 100 songs, neatly alternating (as you will have gleaned from the above) between hits and deep cuts from a myriad of well known/stylistically varied NYC stalwarts (Patti Smith AND James Blood Ulmer) along with obscure not-even-cult-figures like us.
You can peruse the complete track listing -- and pre-order the thing, which will be available starting January 30th -- over at the Cherry Red website HERE.
I'm told there will be a booklet with extensive liner notes by ace rock critic Rob Tannenbaum and lotsa cool photos (I wrote the brief Hounds bio entry, and I'm informed that Rob quotes from an old Stereo Review column of mine when talking about Stuart's Hammer). I want to emphasize again, delightedly, that along with the scene's heavy hitters, like the ones previously mentioned, the set also includes lotsa stuff by unfairly forgotten weirdos, including a group I never got to see who had my favorite band name ever -- Chemicals Made From Dirt. 😎
Bottom line, I feel like I've died and gone to heaven. I mean -- first The Floor Models are on Cherry Red, and now The Hounds?
Oh, and because I love you all more than food, here's the song in question, which we released on our own P.O.J. label -- in stereo, the first non-mono disc by an indie NYC band -- back in 1976.
I'll keep you guys posted on new details about the set -- like if it's gonna be available for streaming at any point -- as they develop.
I'll also share a couple of hopefully amusing Hounds stories -- including our CBGBs debut, opening for a nascent international superstar -- when the set comes out next year.
