A Picture is Worth 1000 Words. All of Which, in This Case, Fail Me.

Jimi gets his hair done, with a cameo appearance by Alfred E. Neuman.

For some reason, I have a feeling Claire Booth Luce really hated that photo.

[h/t Jonnie Miles]

These Guys Were Zombies BEFORE "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies."

So after posting "A Butcher's Tale (Western Front 1914)" on Memorial Day just passed, I was frankly surprised to discover that there actually are people who didn't know the song, and -- thus, apparently -- don't know The Zombies album it derives from.

Which, of course, is the 1968 classic (1967 in England) Odessey and Oracle. Which is a masterpiece from stem to stern, and from whence "Time of the Season" also derives.

There isn't a dud cut on it, frankly, and while a lot of it is the fullest flowering of 1967 psychedelia after Sgt. Pepper -- the Zombies actually recorded it at the same Abbey Road EMI studio the Fabs used, on a lot of the same equipment (amps, et cetera) -- quite a bit of it is the purest power pop ever heard by sentient mammalian ears.

Case in point: "Friends of Mine."

Seriously -- is there a more spine-tinglingly lovely voice in the history of rock-and-roll than Colin Blunstone? For that matter, have you ever heard a better instrumental break than the piano and guitar (god bless the late Paul Atkinson) business that slices this song in half?

I think not.

In any case, if you're one of those folks who doesn't know this record, hie thee to Amazon and legally download a copy of the damn thing immediately.

More Tales From the Mystic East!!!

[Yes, this has absolutely nothing to do with the mission statement of this blog, but I'm really jazzed about it, so sue me. Also: In slightly different form, I originally posted it at the website of Box Office magazine back in 2010. -- S.S.]

Okay, in terms of film preservation discoveries, it doesn't rank with the missing footage from Fritz Lang's 1927 Metropolis that turned up in a Buenos Aires basement in 2008. And no, the eight hours MGM cut from Erich Von Stroheim's 1924 masterpiece Greed remain missing, the Holy Grail of film preservationists since time immemorial.

Nevertheless, via the real-life cinema detectives over at The Serial Squadron, now comes news that the more-or-less "lost" film that I, personally, have most longed to see over the years has, in fact, been found. And is finally out on DVD.

I refer, of course, to the absolutely astounding 1940 Republic serial Drums of Fu Manchu, starring the criminally underrated Henry Brandon as the definitive screen Fu.

I've been writing about this flick for ages, but in case you're new here, suffice it to say that DOFM is a corker. Directed by Republic's great William Witney and John English team, then at the height of their powers, and featuring a terrific cast besides Brandon (let's hear it for that great neurotic presence Dwight Frye), it's on most critic's short list for the Top Five All-Time Cliffhangers, and with good reason; slick even by Republic's standards, it's perhaps the only chapterplay out of Hollywood that feels -- both in terms of the screenwriting and the whole mise-en-scene -- like a feature film.

As for the whole "lost" deal: the original film elements of the serial were destroyed in an accident at Republic (most likely in a fire, although there's some dispute over this) in the late 60s or early 70s; as a result, the only versions available for screening since then -- including numerous videos, ranging from VHS bootlegs of dubious legality to the 2004 DVD released by VCI Entertainment -- have derived from soft-looking second generation 16mm sources of at best barely adequate quality. I myself first watched DOFM in 1988 on an appalling bootleg from an outfit called Stokeley's Serials, an experience that was reminiscent of viewing a film projected underwater while wearing grimy sunglasses.

Now, however, the good folks at Serial Squadron -- who have done truly remarkable yeoman restoration work on such presumed lost serial classics as the original 1938 Lone Ranger -- have discovered a heretofore unsuspected copy of DOFM in the hands of a private collector. According to Squadron honcho Eric Stedman, it was duped at Republic, legally, from the original elements shortly before they were destroyed, and by somebody with a high level of technical expertise who really knew what they were doing. It has now been transferred to the digital domain, and I am here to tell you that it looks like, if not a pristine 35mm print, than at least a damn good one.

Be still my beating heart. So -- here's the restored first chapter to whet your appetite. The DVD looks better, of course.

In any case, you can order a copy -- and absolutely should, if I'm any judge of horseflesh -- at the Serial Squadron link above. And tell 'em PowerPop sent you.

Memorial Day 2012

From 1968 -- The Zombies' "A Butchers Tale (Western Front 1914)." Still, for my money, the most powerful anti-war record of them all

And, alas, sadly relevant to our current mis-adventures in Afghanistan and elsewhere.

In any case, enjoy the holiday, and regular less depressing posting resumes on the morrow.

Old And In the Way

From 1969 (and produced by Jimi Hendrix, of all people) please enjoy the perhaps unfortunately monikered Cat Mother & the All Night Newsboys and an extremely rare -- meaning I had not even suspected its existence until yesterday -- and totally live television performance of their deliberately retro hit "Good Old Rock 'n' Roll."

I bring the record and band up for a couple of reasons, the first being as an illustration of just how cruelly time can play tricks on works of popular art. If you weren't around at the time, it's hard to explain just what a breath of fresh air this track was when you heard it on the radio; today, unfortunately, it comes off as cornball rock revival pandering, sort of like Sha-Na-Na without the saving irony. (Although I will stipulate that these guys had a pretty high level of musicianship.)

In any case, the other (happier) reason I posted this is the interesting (to me, anyway) fact that the Asian gentlemen with the glasses playing rhythm guitar is none other than longtime Greenwich Village folkie Charlie Chin, who has a far more serious claim to fame than this particular period piece. He is, as it turns out, the guy who played the gorgeous banjo stuff at the conclusion of the album version of Buffalo Springfield's "Bluebird," and I think we can agree that for that stalwart service he deserves respect from all who walk upright.

Wolves in the Fold

Found this review I'd written -- from The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review, in October 1978 -- the other day and thought it might be interesting to try to find the music involved on-line. Obviously, I hadn't listened to this record since the day I wrote the review, and perhaps I was being overly unkind.

WEREWOLVES RCA AFLI-2746 $7.98

Andrew Oldham is one of the more colorful hucksters of our time, a sort of English Kim Fowley who made it. Trouble is, he made it quite a few years ago as manager amd producer of the embryonic Rolling Stones, who unceremoniously dumped him about 1968 and went on to make the series of albums on which their reputations will someday undoubtedly rest on.

Opinions on the depth of his contribution to the success of the Stones vary. Some say that he lived out all his most outrageous fantasies through Mick Jagger and Brian Jones; others reckon that it all would have happened pretty much the same way without him. One thing is certain, however; he was never much of a producer, and the real production chores on the Stones' classic early records were delegated to various engineers -- notably Ron Malo and Dave Hassinger -- whose services he was smart enough to enlist.

Since then, Oldham has mostly been a dabbler. There have been a few production efforts -- the Jimmy Cliff live album, for one, which was abominable -- but not much else. Now he has come back at the helm of a band that he has apparently convinced the good folks at RCA is going to he that most tedious of items, the(you guessed it) Next Rolling Stones. I wouldn't take bets on it. The Werewolves (not a bad name, actually, but unfortunate in view of Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" hit) are an agreeable mainstream guitar band a la Bad Company or Aerosmith, with some of the same blues roots as Oldham's first charges. They probably sounded very good in the bar where he most likely discovered them. Beyond that, though, they have absolutely no sound of their own, and the only interesting thing about the whole venture will be seeing if Oldham can still maniputulate the media with the same flair he demonstratd in the old days. For the moment, however, rest assured that the Werewolves are just a group, not a way of life. -- S.S.

Here's "The Flesh Express," the album opener.

The Flesh Express

And the answer to my my implied question seems to be -- perhaps a little unkind, but frankly not that much.

Slept Through the Alarm...

Whew! What a night! In case you missed it, I spent three hours last night talking to Chris Kocher on WHRW's The Signal. It was supposed to be 90 minutes, we expected two hours, took three. You wanna make something of it?

And today, all I can think of is the things I missed mentioning: wet t-shirt contests and Gene Simmons' tongue in Skip's girlfriend's ear and  and Material Issue and Joey Molland and and and....

But it was a hoot. Chris was sweet and generous, and I only feel bad that we had to racre toward the end. But we did get to play two new songs from Shoes' forthcoming album Ignition, the group-penned "Say It Like You Mean It," and Gary's album opener, "Head vs. Heart."

You can stream the whole thing here. (It's the May 22 link.)

Cahiers du Meh

So I saw Tim Burton's Dark Shadows feature the other day; let's just say that as much as I adore Johnny Depp and all his works, the thing is pretty much a mess. The short version being that nobody involved with it seems to have decided whether it's a gothic horror flick or a parody of same, and as a result it doesn't work as either.

That said, one of many other annoying aspects of the film is that the closing credits feature a truly crappy version of The Raspberries' sublime power pop classic "Go All the Way." In this case by The Killers, a band, if anybody asked me, that is incapable of performing somebody else's song without air quotes around it.

Meanwhile, and perhaps coincidentally, a younger band heretofore unknown to me -- Surfer Blood -- has done a somewhat more interesting cover.

Hey, I said somewhat more interesting. I didn't say it was actually any good.

Boys Don't Lie: Radio Edition

With all due respect to the late Donna Summer, I'm going back On the Radio, this time to talk about Boys Don't Lie, my now-finally-completed bio of Shoes. It's a radio show, and so a combo of music and talk with local music journalist (and buddy o' mine) Chris Kocher.  (Did I say we'll be premiering a new song off the forthcoming album Ignition? Just wanted to mention that.) 

I don't really know what to say about the book project, which has consumed three years of my life at this point. It's been fascinating, and I've learned a lot. My goals going in were modest: I knew enough about what they'd been through to want to know more, and as it turned out, I only knew a little around the edges. Getting to know and (attempt to) understand the complex alchemy of these three strong personalities has been an adventure; trying to explain them to others a challenge. As John Murphy said to me recently, "at this point, you know us better than our own mothers." Plus, I got cursed almost from the get-go by Gary Klebe, who said, "This book is going to be a Shoes record, you know that. It's going to take longer than you think, but there's going to be more to it than you think, and it's going to better than you think." Some days, I hate that guy.

It's their story, mostly from their point of view, but contextualized against the backdrop of the music industry for the last, oh, 40-odd years, so lots of news about things you lived through and forgot. (I, for one, never realized that "oldies radio" was almost completely invented in December 1980: John Lennon's death--and the retrospectives it prompted--proved there was market share in looking back.) There's also lots of red meat for you gearheads out there. Guitars and effects and boards and programs and studio design. And this was no small feat! Having Gary Klebe snicker over my confusion between microphones is one thing, but having Jeff Murphy fret, "'I don't sound like too much of a geek here, do I?" is something else. 

In terms of the guys themselves, I can't say enough about their kindness and generosity to me, with time and information and my relentless hammering at questions. "Okay, you don't remember it from this direction? Let's try another door." Sometimes, there would be a shadow of a memory, and I'd hunt, and the whole thing would become clear. I challenged them on facts of their own lives--that can't have been easy. And I edited and re-edited and re-edited, all with my formidable editor, longtime Billboard writer Moira McCormick. (The edit took twice as long as the first draft.) Early on, Kid C warned me: "Don't you ruin them for me!" And I haven't. It is literally not possible to. They are who you think they are. 

But now, after three years of this, we're done. Aside from minor grammatical tweaks, what I have is what we're moving forward with (the second wave of readers should have their galleys next week), and in this brave new world we live in, production time is slashed--almost to nothing in the case of ebooks, and only a few weeks longer for old-school hard copies. 

And so I'm talking to Chris this week. We'll be taking questions: post them here, or via FB, or give us a call at 607-777-2137 (from 7-8:30ish, EST on Tuesday 5/22) (last time, I got to talk to PowerPop stalwart MConroy!), or email me. We'll get to as many as we can in the time we've got. 

What do you want to know? 

• Dying to find out the weird influences you would never expect?  
• Aching to find out if "Karen" is a real person? 
• What makes the fuzzy, buzzy guitars do that? 
• What Fleetwood Mac's Rumours tour has to do with Tongue Twister? 
• And what the heck Gene Simmons has to do with all this anyway? 

We've got answers to all these, and more of those things you always wondered about. Ask away!
And tune in to hear a new track from Ignition!

Can Blue Men Sing the Whites?

Well, here's an interesting curiosity. From 1964, and an album recorded on-stage at The Cavern -- yes, THAT Cavern -- in Liverpool, please enjoy Godfather of the British Blues Scene Alexis Korner, doing business with Blues Incorporated, in a live version of the venerable "Kansas City."

To be honest, although I obviously know Korner by reputation, the only music of his I can actually remember listening to heretofore is an amusingly actor-ish cover of "Get Off of My Cloud" he did (with Keith Richards' assistance) in 1975.

As for this track? Not a bad little band, but in the case of this particular club and this particular song, I think The Beatles probably did it better.