Stephen Colbert has really been on a roll lately, satire of the current misadministration-wise; last night he hosted Michael Bolton singing John Bolton, which is about as hilariously meta as you can get. But the night before he did a riff about the absurdity of the latest crap emanating from supporters of President Malevolent Chauncy Gardiner that made me practically fall off my couch.
The short version (and this is completely true): Said supporters have actually suggested that Trump start a GoFundMe deal to pay for his proposed wall on the Mexican border.
I kid you not. In any case, for the benefit of his viewers who might not know what that meant, he did an extended riff on the GoFundMe page of Flaw, a modestly successful and long running indie metal band from the Mid-West who were trying to raise money to buy a van in order to get to a series of upcoming gigs.
Please behold Colbert's extended riff now and be changed. It starts at about the 6:00 minute point.
As somebody at YouTube commented -- what next, a bake sale?
In any case, the band, of course and with good reason, couldn't believe the free publicity they had just been handed, but were still tickled pink about it beneath their copious tattoos
And the cream of the jest is -- they're actually pretty good. Not my cup of tea, but not as ridiculous as I had assumed while watching Colbert riff on them either.
The short version: In 1965, Tony Janelli -- an old college friend of mine -- saw one of the first ever Velvet Underground gigs, which happened to be at his high school in suburban New Jersey. An experience which blew the minds of the youthful attendees and, in Tony's case, changed his life.
So he and some of his filmmaker friends have now made an animated short celebrating the VU's performance. And as you'll see from the brief trailer below, it's pretty fricking amazing.
I should add that the show's headliners -- The Myddle Class -- featured the future husband of Carole King and the singer of Steely Dan; they also had a minor regional hit that the Blues Project appropriated to better effect as "Wake Me, Shake Me." The other act on the historic bill -- The Forty Fingers -- has, alas, disappeared into the mists of history.
In any case, the film is about to hit the festival circuit; I'll keep you posted on further news about the project as it develops.
So it was Nick Lowe's birthday over the weekend, and I was looking for something appropriate to post from YouTube when I stumbled across this 2004 clip.
I think the appropriate words are Hole. E. Shit.
Seriously, the first time I watched this I had to turn it off half way through because it was so gut-punchingly powerful I couldn't handle it.
I should add that I find it beyond ironic that a guy like Lowe, who made his pop star bones as a sort of cynical wiseguy, wound up writing the most universally beloved and well-known hippie anthem of all time.
I should also add that one of my favorite pop music stories ever involves that song, and this is absolutely true.
As you may recall, a more or less not fabulous cover of said hippie anthem -- by the non-unjustifiably more or less forgotten Curtis Stigers -- was featured on the soundtrack album to the 1992 mega-smash film The Bodyguard. Which sold several gazillion, er, units.
In any case, apparently Lowe was only vaguely aware that said cover was on the album. Until one day in 1993, he went to his mailbox, opened an envelope, and found a royalty check -- made out in his name -- in a seven figure amount.
Which has to be one of the greatest potential heart attack moments of all time.
Meanwhile -- happy birthday, Mr. Lowe. You did good.
From 2014, please enjoy Shakey Graves and Heather Maloney and the most radical re-imagining of a song originally warbled by John Travolta and Olivia Neutron-Bomb (or whatever her name is) you'll ever hear.
Question: Why the hell hasn't that band been a musical guest on SNL? I mean, James Bay or The Migos get the gig, and these kids don't?
On a less contentious note, I should add that I saw the original Broadway version of Grease in preview (Barry Bostwick had the Travolta part, and he was hilarious and brilliant) and you may find this hard to believe, but the show then bore very little resemblance to the film. In fact, it was barely a nostalgia piece; instead, it was a very sharp satire on the difference between American culture as it actually was in the 50s and the representations of it in the television and movies of the period. Of course, once the satanic Robert Stigwood got his hands on the stage play, it was a foregone conclusion that he was gonna stick some crappy and obviously anachronistic disco song over the credits and rewrite the ingenue part to be an Australian exchange student.
[I originally posted this one back in -- gasp! -- 2009, when both the world and this blog were young. But for obvious reasons, or perhaps reasons that shall become obvious, I thought it was newly relevant to our national discourse. I have, of course, rewritten some of it, and swapped out some of the songs, just to prove that I'm not the total slacker that so many of you, with justification, suspect I am. In any case, enjoy. -- S.S.]
Okay, gang -- here's a fun project for us all to contemplate in the wake of this week's nor'easter on the Right Coast:
Most Memorable Post Elvis Song or Record Referencing Atmospheric Phenomena, i.e. Weather, In the Title or Lyrics!!!
Self-explanatory, I think, so no arbitrary rules this time.
Okay, here's my totally top of my head Top Seven:
7. Terry Anderson -- Weather or Not
If truth be told, the entire original version of this Listomania proceeded from the fact that I had wanted to post this song -- to my mind, the absolute best Rolling Stones/Keith Richards-style guitar rocker that the Stones or Keith never did -- for what seemed like ages. (Catchiest goddamn chorus in the world, n'est-ce pas?). In case you're wondering, Anderson comes out of the Georgia Satellites axis (he co-wrote that group's semi-hit "Battleship Chains") and this derives from the early 90s solo album seen above. I should add that said album is still available over at Amazon, and you should hie there toot sweet and snag a copy.
6. The Beatles -- Rain
Depending on my mood, either this or "And Your Bird Can Sing" is my favorite of the bunch of guitar-driven, vaguely metallic pop gems that the Beatles recorded around this time in late 65-early 66. This one has Ringo's most inventive drum performance, of course.
5. The Weasels -- Beautiful Day
A recent track by my old high school garage band. I'm doing most of the guitar stuff, including the solo, but it's written and sung by our multi-instrumentalist secret weapon Glenn Leeds. In any case, I love it. "It may be freezin' but I don't feel cold...it's a beautiful day."
4. Lou Christie -- Rhapsody in the Rain
"In this car, our love went much too far..."
The followup to the equally apt "Lightning Strikes," this one got banned by most 1966 radio stations; I wonder why.
3. Yoko Ono -- Listen the Snow is Falling
"The only reason no one likes her music is because she's a woman and an Oriental" -- John Lennon to Jann Wenner, 1971
2. Steeleye Span -- One Misty Moisty Morning
Probably the oldest song ever featured on a Weekend Listomania, i.e., this probably dates back to Shakespeare's day. BTW; the word goddess is overused in some circles, but I think Maddy Prior's vocal on this qualifies her for consideration as one.
And the number one ill wind that blows nobody good song, it's so ridiculously apt given what's going to be broadcast on 60 Minutes this Sunday that I can't believe we're even having a discussion, obviously is ---
1. Classics IV -- Stormy
Who knew somebody had written a hit tune about her decades ago? Amazing.
From 2004, please enjoy the great Roger McGuinn and his lovely cover of The Beatles/George Harrison classic "If I Needed Someone."
I honestly had never heard this until yesterday, when friend of PowerPop Capt. Al played it on his intertube radio show.
I should add that George was obviously a huge Byrds fan (the riff on this is pretty much a lift from "Bells of Rhymney") and there's a wonderful, if perhaps apocryphal, story about George and Roger that seems relevant.
The short version is that after The Byrds' "Turn Turn Turn" came out, and was not as big a hit in the UK as it was elsewhere, George apparently sent Roger a note that said "I feel sorry for anybody who didn't buy it."
From 1965, please enjoy The Lovin' Spoonful, featuring extremely stylish drummer Joe Butler, doing a cover of The Beatles' "Help" backed by somebody's orchestra.
For you younger readers, this was originally aired on a weekly network TV rock-themed show called Hullabaloo.
And this is how, in the immortal words of David Letterman, your parents and grandparents enjoyed the rock-and-roll music back in the day.
An idiosyncratic blog dedicated to the precursors, the practioners, and the descendants of power pop.
All suggestions for postings and sidebar links welcome, contact any of us.
