From a surprisingly terrific piece in the NY Times the other day, about the 50th anniversary deluxe reissue of Patti Smith's debut album Horses:
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. 😎😎
Okay, so here's the deal. As you guys know, my alternate watering hole here in Forest Hills, Queens is a wonderful Mexican joint called Mas Tortilla. And from time to time the proprietors there play el rock en español, rather than more traditional normal contemporary Latin pop, on their sound system.
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.
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.
Okay, as attentitve readers will recall, a few weeks ago I had nice things to say about the first track from the new EP The Completely Fictional History of This Great Nation of Canada. By fab Toronto punk rockers The Mendozaz.
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.
So as you may have heard, the late great Warren Zevon finally got inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame over the weekend. Yeah yeah, I know we have arguments over why there's even a HOF in the first place, and we'll keep having 'em, but I think we can nonetheless agree that Zevon deserves to be in it if anybody does.
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!!! 😎😎😎
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?
From either the late 20th or early 21st century (I haven't been able to pin it down, sorry), please enjoy the pride of Mexico City La Gusana Ciega -- the name translates as "The Blind She-Worm"(!) -- and their South of the Border smash hit ode to the lovely "Ella Estrella."
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.
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?
Okay, words pretty much fail me, ladies and germs, but I am not making this up: The Hounds, i.e. the 70s pop/rock band I toiled with for many years....
...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.
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.
We're on disc one, between The Dictators and The Dead Boys.
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.
From his about to be released (November 14th) new album, please enjoy long time musical hero of mine Steve Boyd (with his band The Loners) and his thought-provoking and melodically insinuating "When the West Was Won."
I'm not kidding about that hero thing; as attentive readers are doubtless aware, Boyd was/is the once-and-future(?) bass player of the incredible White Animals...
...a Nashville band who absolutely ruled the college alt-rock/frat party scene down South in the 80s, and who made amazing albums that -- for reasons that remain mysterious -- somehow never garnered them the national attention they so richly deserved. I've written about them on numerous occasions over the years, so rather than rehash the details I'll simply direct you to this pertinent LINK; let me just say, however, that the Animals -- for whom Boyd was one of two principal songwriters -- were one of the most astounding live acts of their day, and that any band who stared the stage with them (and I know this from personal experience) did so at their peril.
In any event, King of the Loners -- which leans more towards Americana and classic rock than the pop/punk/dub reggae fusion pioneered by the Animals -- features thirteen fab new songs exploring the themes of personal freedon, loss resilience and reinvention. Adding to the fun, the great Will Kimbrough, of Bis-Quits fame, also contibutes characteristically memorable guitar stuff on a couple of songs, which is otherwise essentially a one-man show.
I should add that if you happen to be in Nashville this coming Saturday (Nov. 8), you won't, alas, be able to see Boyd with the Animals at their sold out farewell show at the legendary Exit/In. But I'll be there -- in spirit -- and I'll tell the guys hello for you. 😎
I should also add that the album will be available on iTunes, Spotify, and all other major streaming platforms, so get over there pronto starting a week from Friday!!! 😎😎
[I first posted a sort-of version of this -- well, it was actually a lot more serious, but still -- back in 2008 (yipes). I've completely rejiggered and rewritten it (only one of the albums below appeared on the original list) and have in general tried to compensate for my recent slacker act in these precincts. Enjoy! -- S.S.]
Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Eurasian fille de joieFah lo Suee and I are off to scenic Mar-a-Lago for a fin-de-la-semaine ballroom fete featuring what's being billed as "la première lecture dramatique" of Les Dossiers Epstein.
Not sure what that means, but it sounds very existential, so just in case I'm having my beret re-blocked.
In any case, posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a few days.
But in my absence, here's a fun project for you all to contemplate:
MOST OVER-RATED OR UNDER-RATED LIVE ALBUM BY A POST-ELVIS POP/ROCK/FOLK/SOUL/COUNTRY GROUP OR SOLO ARTIST!!!
No arbitrary rules whatsoever, for obvious reasons.
And my totally Top of My Head Top Six, in both categories, are:
6. Peter Frampton -- Frampton Comes Alive!
As Mike Meyers says in Waynes World 2:
"Exqueese me? Have I seen this one before? 'Frampton Comes Alive'? Everybody in the world has 'Frampton Comes Alive.' If you lived in the suburbs you were issued it. It came in the mail with samples of "Tide".
5. Marshall Chapman -- It's About Time...
C'mon -- singing "Jailhouse Rock" to an audience of inmates at a women's prison? Conceptual masterstrokes don't come any neater.
4. Ritchie Valens -- In Concert at Pacoima Jr. High School
At his Alma Mater, not long before the plane crash. Primitively recorded, but a heart as big as all outdoors.
3. The Band -- The Last Waltz
Sorry -- any live album featuring Neil Diamond is by definition unfit for man nor beast.
2. Television -- Live at the Old Waldorf
I'd forgotten just how spine-tingling that is. Seriously -- two guitars, bass and drums just don't get any cooler-sounding.
And the all-time underrated live album is...
1. The Floor Models -- Floor by Four: Live at JPs in 1982
Okay, I'm one of those weirdos who thought that the original Eddie and the Cruisers film -- and the Beaver Brown Band, the real-life guys (Antunes, briefly glimpsed in the clip below, was their sax player) who provided the music -- were actually pretty good.
On the other hand, much of that is down to the fact that I had, and continue to have, a huge crush on the film's delightful female lead Ellen Barkin.
I should add that "We ain't great, we're just some guys from Jersey" -- as uttered in a climactic scene by co-star Matthew Laurence -- is perhaps my favorite line of dialogue in any movie ever. 😎
Havve I mentioned that this death shit is really starting to piss me off?
From SNL in 1991, please enjoy the late great Phil Hartman as he hosts the Sunday morning panel show I only wish had actually existed -- The Sinatra Group!!!
I've referenced the joke in today's title on a couple of occasions in the past -- most recently in yesterday's musings on the new Springsteen movie -- but you could have knocked me over with a feather when I did the research and discovered I'd never actually posted the sketch itself.
Which is only a) one of the funniest SNL bits of all time and b) perhaps the most hilarious parody of pop-star pretentions ever witnessed by sentient mammalians anywhere.
We should add that it gets special bonus points for 1) Hartman/Sinatra intro-ing Sinead O'Connor as Uncle Fester and 2) Sting's impression of Billy Idol's snarl.
So I saw Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere yesterday afternoon.
Long-time readers will recall that I have never been a fan of the Nebraska album, the making of which the film is theoretically based upon. For those who've come in late, BTW, here's the review I wrote when it was new (December 1982) for the sadly departed Stereo Review.
When times get tough, someone once observed, entertainment gets sloppy, but in the case of Bruce Springsteen, the once and future Bard of Asbury Park, New Jersey, we may have to amend that; when times get tough, entertainment gets grim. At least that's one implication to be derived from Nebraska, Springsteen's new all-acoustic -- dare I say it? -- folk music album. Another is that the record business is in even worse shape than I thought. Since the production costs of what sounds like the bleakest record of the year must have been next to nothing (Springsteen recorded it at home on a four-track Teac cassette deck), you might think Columbia would give us a break and sell it at a really reduced price -- like about two bucks. No such luck.
That's a pretty cynical thing to say about a Bruce Springsteen album, Springsteen being the one mainstream rock star who maintains a genuine give-and-take relationship with his audience, but I'm afraid Nebraska inspires cynicism. It sounds like it was written for critics rather than people. I'm not suggesting a sellout; in a lot of ways a release like this is a very gutsy career move, and I don't doubt that the ten songs on it are as sincerely, deeply felt as anything Springsteen has ever done. In some ways, actually, it's weirdly appropriate that he should mutate, however briefly, into a latter-day Woody Guthrie. CBS originally signed him as a folk singer, things are pretty depressing out there, and somebody's got to do it, I suppose. It's just that most of Nebraska is, well, boring.
I can't fault the stories Springsteen tells here. He seems to have aimed for a sort of contemporary working-class, factory-town equivalent of The Grapes of Wrath, and mostly he's succeeded. As vignettes they're wonderful; one in particular -- "Highway Patrolman" -- is going to make a heck of a movie someday. [It did. Sean Penn filmed it as The Indian Runner in 1991.--S.S.] But musically...my God. The tunes are less than minimalist, the tempos are uniformly dirgelike, and hardly a ray of sunlight breaks through the overpowering miasma of fatalism and gloom. The effect is to trivialize the stories. It's impossible to care about the lives of the people being chronicled when the music is so resolutely leaden.
I suspect that this is not due so much to a lack of inspiration as it is to deliberate calculation. Springsteen has been headed in this direction for some time now. A lot of Darkness on the Edge of Town was all but unlistenable for the same reasons, and in places The River was even worse, the stark dramas inflated to operatic pretentiousness and unintentional self-parody. Nebraska, with its self-conscious underproduction, achieves the same sad result from the opposite direction. Springsteen must know better -- just listen to the material he gives away to other artists. Heck, his "Out of Work," on the recent Gary U.S. Bonds album, says far more about blue-collar aspirations than anything on Nebraska, and it's also tuneful, danceable and fun.
But Springsteen seems to think that fun is beneath him now. As much as it pains me to say it, I think what we have here is a classic case of a "primitive" artist corrupted by "intellectuals" (well, ex-rock writers, like his producer Jon Landau and official biographer Dave Marsh). How else to explain Springsteen's apparent compulsion to make the Big Statement every time out, the references to film directors -- here it's Terence Malick (Badlands) in the title song -- and the hectoring preachiness of so much of his recent output? Nebraska, its offhand simplicity notwithstanding, is an ambitious work, and, given the thoroughly decadent state of contemporary pop music, it merits respect if only because it aims high. But the fact is, it misses -- by a big margin -- and the reasons suggest that its author has worked himself into what may be an artistic cul-de-sac. Let's hope I'm wrong. -- Steve Simels
BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN:Nebraska. Bruce Springsteen (vocals, guitar, harmonica).
COLUMBIA TC 38358
Okay -- so what did I think now that I've experienced the film?
Here's the short version, by the numbers.
!. Jeremy Allen White as Springsteen is utterly brilliant. I completely believed he WAS Bruce throughout the whole thing, including the musical stuff. Also: The Jersey Shore milieu feels totally authentic, both visually and culturally.
2. Former CBS exec Jimmy Iovine is hilarious in a cameo as himself. Aussie actress Odessa Young is also touching and wildly sexy in the role of a woman who does not seem to have actually existed in Bruce's real life.
3. The film is NOT in point of fact about the making of the Nebraska album, i.e. Bruce's creative process at the time or his battles with the philistine corporate types who wanted lots of hit singles rather than a larger/grim artistic statement. It is, instead, about the deep personal hurt of an oh-so-sensitive and wildly successful young guy who's having emotional problems stemming from a moderately abusive father. Which, frankly, is a lot more cliched and uninteresting than I was hoping.
4. For most of the film, all I could think about was the great old SNL bit where Phil Hartman played Frank Sinatra hosting a panel of spoiled pop stars. In which he castigated Jan Hooks, as a pretentious and unsympathetic Sinead O'Connor, with the classic line "Swing baby -- you're platinum!!!"
5. I have no desire to see Deliver Me From Nowhere again ever.
So -- first of all, thanks for all the kind birthday good wishes. I got very verklempt and you guys made an old man feel very happy.
But speaking of my birthday, a certain Shady Dame of my acquaintance is taking me to see Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere, starring that guy from The Bear as the Boss, on Sunday...
...and I gotta say that, on the basis of the trailer, and everything I've read about the flick so far, I suspect it might be pretty good.
I'll have more to say next week, unsurprisingly. 😎
But in the meantime, that leads us to the business at hand. And it's a two-parter.
To wit:
1...and your favorite or least favorite bio-pic (roughly defined) of a post-Presley rock/pop/folk/soul/country artist or group is...?
2. What post-Presley rock/pop/folk/soul/country artist or group would you most or least like to see as the subject of a forthcoming bio-pic?
Discuss.
Okay, in case you're wondering -- my favorite existing bio-pic is...
And the not-yet-made one I'd least like to see would be of this guy.
Actually, you could probably make a pretty funny flick about Lord Sutch, but hey -- I don't know if I would bother to watch. I mean, life's short. 😎
😎
From her just released (last Friday) new album Duets Special, please enjoy the incomparable Chrissie Hynde with (the song's composer's son) Julian Lennon and a shall we say interesting(?) version of The Beatles classic "It's Only Love."
The whole album is up at YouTube, BTW, and I'm still digesting it; so far my fave (which is not really saying much) cuts are the above and Chrissie's take on The Stones' "Sway" with Lucinda Williams.
I'll stipulate that Chrissie's voice remains undimmed, the songs are well chosen ("Every Little Bit Hurts" may be my favorite Motown ballad ever), and the arrangements and production seem apt. I just dunno if the whole thing feels really...I think necessary is the word.
Ooh -- as SCTV's Joe Flaherty (as Count Floyd) used to say...very scary!!!
More specifically, as long-time readers are doubtless aware, that's me in my callow youth, top left of the album cover.
And the reason I'm posting it, as today's title kinda gave away, is that today is my birthday.
Don't worry -- no contemporary photo will be inflicted on you.
In any event, what the aforementioned long-time readers will probably be unaware of, however, is that the reason I posted the cover is to honor my oldest friend and longtime bandmate Allan Weissman (bottom right).
It was Allan's birthday yesterday, and due to my incipient senility I neglected to mark the occasion in Monday's entry. This is especially ironic in that for as long as I've known him -- and we're talking going back to junior high school -- Allan has never let me forget that he's one day older than me.
As long-time readers are aware, it would be something of an understatement for me to note that I have never been a fan of KISS.
In fact, one of the best things I ever wrote for publication was a review of the four simultaneous 1979 KISS members solo albums done in the style of a Raymond Chandler detective story.
It's tone was not, shall we say, enthusiastic. 😎
That allowed, a lot of my younger friends -- people whose opinions I respect despite their callow years (that's a joke, people) -- do think highly of KISS, and they have often expressed why in passionate and plausible ways. Two obvious recent examples: Our amigo Sal Nunziato over at his blog Burning Wood just last Thursday and former Video Review colleague Doug Brod, whose recent book They Just Seem a Little Weird makes the case for them quite persuasively.
And of course I would not be so foolishly arrogant as to dismiss Sal and Doug's views out of hand, although, as I've hopefully made clear, I remain, er, unconvinced about KISS on a fairly profound, perhaps even cellular, level.
But, finally, I would be remiss if I did not conclude by acknowledging that one of my all time favorite bands, The Replacements, liked KISS. A lot.
I mean, a REAL lot.
And that they also did this superb cover of one of their songs.
So when all is said and done, what I'm really getting at today is -- there's just no way I'm gonna argue with Paul Westerberg and company on this subject.
And despite my larger personal feelings about KISS's music, I'm just gonna leave it at that.
[This was one of the very first Listomanias I posted -- back in 2007 (yipes)-- and to be honest, I had totally forgotten about it until the other day, when the subject of the Jefferson Airplane came up in casual conversation. In any case, I think that thematically it's pretty cool; as per usual, I've done some rewriting and made a couple of substitute nominations, just to keep my hand in. -- S.S.]
Okay, I have a birthday coming up (next Tuesday) and although I'm still younger than the demented vulgarian sitting in the People's now gilded White House, my work ethic just ain't what it used to be.
That being the case, I'm disinclined to write a long lead to today's post.
So let's get immediately to the business at hand.
To wit:
Sophomore Albums That Surpassed (Artistically) The Really Good Debut Albums That Preceded Them!!!
You know the cliche -- you have your entire life to write your first record, and then you have six months to write your second, which is why a lot of followup albums disappoint.
Perhaps the most obvious example is Pretenders II; an estimable work with some terrific songs, but small beer compared to the epochal first one.
More absurdly, think of the second Hootie and the Blowfish album.
Or rather, please don't think of it, as Hootie sucked right out of the gate, IMHO.
Although Fairweather Johnson was a really great album title. 😎
In any event, what do YOU think are the post-Elvis (Presley) rock/pop/folk/country/soul albums that best avoided the usual sequel slump?
Arbitrary rule: Nothing by The Beatles, or any other Brit invasion band is allowed, due to the fact that the difference between Brit and American album releases of the period is too obvious and confusing.
Okay -- submitted for your approval, my top of my head Top Eight would be......
8. Jefferson Airplane -- Surrealistic Pillow
I happen to be a fan of Jefferson Airplane Takes Off, which features work by their original drummer (and one of my all time musical heroes) the late great Skip Spence. That said -- c'mon. If you don't know that Pillow is a better album on every level, you probably shouldn't be allowed to take cash machine money out of your own account.
7. MC5 -- Back in the USA
The 5's debut -- recorded live -- was often impressive as a political and musical template, but the songwriting was inconsistent and the whole thing ultimately devolved into aural sludge at some point. However, the followup -- despite the fact that future Springsteen guru Jon Landau's production sucked hippo root -- featured short concise songs that totally rocked and got the band's revolutionary message over with a surprising level of wit and irony.
6. The Byrds -- Turn! Turn! Turn!
Not perhaps so staggeringly innovative as the first album -- which, after all, invented an entire new genre and sound -- but some of the songwriting and performances (the title track and the above Gene Clark masterpiece, for example) clearly surpassed the debut.
5. Marah -- Kids in Philly
Their indie debut was promising, but this is one of the great records of the 90s, an all but perfect mashup of Bruce Springsteen and The Replacements. They never even came close to equaling it, alas. I should add that it is one of my longtime dreams to play the song above live at very high volume in a band onstage somewhere. Which won't happen, but still.
4. Buffalo Springfield -- Buffalo Springfield Again
Not a dud song in the bunch, and production-wise it makes their first album sound like it was recorded on Edison cylinders.
3. Amy Winehouse -- Back to Black
Because we like to have something recorded in this century.
But seriously, folks -- Winehouse's debut album was the work of a talented journeyman with a lot of great influences. The followup, however, was the work of a fully formed artist.
I should add that special bonus points will be awarded to any reader who credibly posits a superior sophomore album by any artist SINCE Back in Black (which came out in 2006). I mean hell -- I'm hard pressed to think of a really good DEBUT record by ANYBODY in that time span. 😎😎
2. Bruce Springsteen -- The Wild, the Innocent and the E-Street Shuffle
The Boss's first album had its moments and changed a lot of lives, my own included. But this one? It sounds, still, like the kind of music that contains multitudes, the kind of rock-and-roll you only vaguely remember from the best dream you ever had.
And last but definitely not least....
1. Elvis Costello and the Attractions -- This Year's Model
Inarguable, I think, and thus further exegesis on my part would be superfluous.
So -- 59(!) years ago this evening, the incomparable Grace Slick made her official stage debut with Jefferson Airplane. Who amongst us does not recall where we were at the time? 😎
In any case, for want of a more appropriate clip to commemorate the occasion, here she is waxing highly amusing with Dick Cavett a couple of years later.
Wotta cutie. And I particularly like the stuff about Finch College. 😎😎
From the other night at the London Palladium, please enjoy The Patti Smith Group (with original members Jay Dee Daugherty and Lenny Kaye, plus two of Patti's kids) and a terrific version of her anthemic (and still desperately pertinent) "People Have the Power."
Oh -- and with some special guest movie actor who apparently is somewhat controversial these days, and who ruined the show for at least one Brit critic.
The occasion was a celebration of the 50th anniversary of Patti's debut album Horses; the song in question, of course, is from her fifth (1988) album Dream of Life, but what the heck -- who's counting? 😎
In any case, and speaking of that critic: It was Uncut's Sam Richards.
Take it away, Sam!
...But then Patti risks undoing all the goodwill she’s accrued over the previous two hours by bringing out auxiliary guitarist Johnny Depp. It’s a baffling misjudgement.
For a start, he adds nothing musically – and dressed ostentatiously in a fedora and an assortment of tie-dye rags, he inevitably serves to draw attention away from the show’s real star. But Depp is also a hugely divisive character, for obvious reasons. Smith’s traditional set-closer “People Have The Power” is always likely to lack its usual unifying qualities when there is a woman stood behind you shouting “Fuck off, Johnny!” throughout the song.
You can read the complete review, which is considerably more enthusiastic than that excerpt, over at the Uncut web page HERE. You're welcome very much.
From his just released album Only Fools Fall In Love Again, please enjoy Twigs touring bass player Danny Ayala and the utterly adorable hook laden pop confection that is his "I Don't Like Her."
Sounds very Twigs-ish, which is both a compliment and not a huge surprise, to be sure. I should add that the way the chorus takes off instrumentally, in particular, just slays me. 😎
From the guitarist's finished basement in (I think) 2020, please enjoy Middle Aged Dad Jam Band (MADJB) and the damndest version of "Born to Run" you'll ever hear.
Okay, I stumbled across that clip by total accident over at YouTube the other day, and I lack the words to convey just how charming I think it is, the sax player's deficiency in the Clarence Clemons department notwithstanding. (And BTW, he's the drummer's kid. 😎)
In any case, if you were wondering, those guys are a bunch of previously/highly successful actors and comedians who -- in the wake of the COVID epidemic -- got together to play music and found that they had stumbled on to an alternate career.
You can find out more about them over at their Wiki entry HERE.
And more usefully at their official website over HERE.
Hey -- I think you'll find the backstory fascinating. Not to mention the video links. 😎 😎
Meanwhile, all of the above leads us inexorably to the subject of our up to date business. To wit:
If you wandered into a local bar and there was a tribute band playing there (for free) -- what band (artist) would be you be most or least hopeful it would in tribute of?
Discuss!!!
Okay, no arbitrary rules whatsoever, but let's leave The Beatles out of it.
I mean, what could be more cliched than some Beatlemania shit?
Alrighty then -- forgetting the Fab Fauxs thing, what would YOUR choices be?
Which turned out (surprisingly) to be located, a few blocks from our rather upscale hotel, in a fashionable/trendy underground shopping mall called the Waverly Market.
We shot the breeze with the store's droll proprietor, the irrepressible Kevin Buckle...
...who's been running the place (in a variety of venues) for nearly 40 years (five in its current digs) and who has an impressibly encyclopedic knowledge of all things pop. And in general we had an absolutely fabulous afternoon at the place.
Here's the aforementioned Shady Dame of my aquaintance looking through the merchandise...
...and here she is (back in the States) with the incredible Yardbirds b-sides comp -- Psycho Daisies -- she scored after scouring the store's LP racks.
I should add that we also bought a vinyl copy of Amy Winehouse's Back to Black, and I grabbed a really cool black hoodie that has the store's logo on the back (which I wore for pretty much the rest of our time in the Scottish capitol). I also gave Kevin a couple of CD copies of The Floor Models' Esprit de Floor (oh right -- you didn't see THAT coming) -- and he has since informed me that it is in heavy rotation on the the Avalanche in-store playlist.
Anyway, just a terrific afternoon; if you find yourself in Edinburgh (which I highly recommend in general -- it's a helluva town) be sure to check it out. And when you do, tell Kevin that PowerPop sent you.
Meanwhile, you can find out more about the place at their informative website over HERE; their physical address is Waverly Market, 3 Waverly Bridge, Edinburgh EH1 1BQ.
And the vinyl version drops, as today's kids say, on Record Store day, i.e. November 25.
What exactly is it? From the official Omnivore Records press release:
Growing up, I always loved my dad’s music. The recordings he made at that time were never properly released and only came out in limited quantities. We had the idea of re-recording some of his more recent songs with some guest artists to shed more light on his great back catalogue. Over the years we met a lot of the amazing musicians who lent their voices to this project and gave the songs new life. I’m happy with how the record turned out, and I hope it’ll turn more people onto his records and beautiful songwriting.
—Brian D’Addario (The Lemon Twigs)
The Lemon Twigs are not the phenomenon they are by accident. Brian & Michael D’Addario's father is a brilliant songwriter and musician in his own right. The Lemon Twigs pay tribute to him by producing and performing on a collection of their father’s music (with Ronnie involved every step of the way).
Written By Ronnie D’Addario features 13 tracks written by Ronnie with special guests and collaborators: Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee Todd Rundgren adds his layered lead and backing vocals to “I See The Patterns” and Canada’s Mac DeMarco leads “Love’s Won Me Over.” Sean Ono Lennon, Darian Sahanaja & Probyn Gregory (The Wondermints, The Beach Boys, Brian Wilson’s band), and Matt Jardine contribute vocals and accompaniment to others—all while The Lemon Twigs and Ronnie himself hold down the performances on these stellar tracks.
While not a “classic tribute album,” Written By Ronnie D’Addario is a testament to incredible songwriting and interpretation from artists from across the musical spectrum.
As attentive PP readers are aware, Ronnie is a wildly talented old friend and occasional bandmate of mine going back 40-plus years to our days on the Greenwich Village folk and New Wave scene, so I am tickled to death that this album (which I had no idea was in the making) is about to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world (in both CD and streaming form on December 5; I'll keep you posted on where).
Also alas, none of the tracks are yet available for preview -- I haven't heard 'em, although I know for a fact anyway that they're great (😎) -- but because I love you all more than food, here's a recent (2015) Ronnie-only original version of one of them.
Have I mentioned that this album is like the coolest thing ever?
Okay, I'm still decompressing from our quite wonderful Scottish vacation. So without any further hoo hah let's get directly to the subject of our new weekend business.
To wit:
...and the post-Elvis rock/pop/folk/r&b song/record you absolutely adore and couldn't live without by a major league band/solo artist the rest of whose work you otherwise couldn't give a shit about is...???
Discuss.
My pick to click? Gotta be this one.
Hey -- the freaking Cure, when I'm not giggling at head honcho Robert Smith's fashion choices, mostly bores me to scowling fidgets. But wow -- if there was a more gorgeous three and a half-plus minutes of anything in the last forty or so years, I for one haven't heard it.
The charmingly monikered Northumbrian pipe virtuoso Kathryn Tickell and her infectious "The Wedding."
And Scottish folk rock band Rura with the interestingly minimalist and quite lovely "Elliott's."
By way of explanation I should add that a certain Shady Dame and I took a particularly fun afternoon trip out to the Highlands and Loch Ness the second day we were in Bonnie Scotland. And our tour guide/bus driver, a delightful gentleman named Alex McClure, had some interesting playlists of sort-of traditionalist Scottish music prepared for the excursion; the two songs above particularly caught my ear.
I should also add that both Tickell and Rura are considered in the vicinity of national treasures by their fellow Scots. And yes, the Tickell song at times sounds (amusingly) like the music accompanying a Nintendo game. 😎
Flying home from our fabulous Scottish vacation; weather, Delta Airlines and Gestapo Security permitting, we should be decompressing in Forest Hills around 7pm EST tonight.
Regular music posting will resume on the morrow.
But here, as promised, a little taste of our just completed adventure.
Those hairy Highland Cattle (seen during a day trip tour of the countryside we took) are more or less the National Animals of Scotland now, and at this point they're pretty much farmed strictly as pets.
In any case, trust me -- they're absolutely hilarious in person.
Not gonna be home from our Scottish adventure till late Tuesday, so no normal (heh) posting till Wednesday (jetlag/time change permitting) due to the difficulties of one-fingered typing on my IPad Mini. Sorry.
Okay, possibly some amusing photographs.
I mean, wait till you see the one of the long-haired Highland Cow I caught actually mooing...
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