Procol Harum, Bitches!!!

Ahem. Long time or merely obsessive readers may recall that the very first entry (in 2007) at this here blog to have my by-line on it was a reprint of the very first piece of mine that ran (in 1972) in the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review, and that the subject of both was Procol Harum.

The blog post, of course, featured my drolly amusing after-the-fact thoughts on the original piece, and n case you missed it -- tsk tsk -- you can peruse it in its entirety over here.

In any case, I bring the whole thing up because I've taken all sorts of (one hopes) good-natured ribbing over the years about my enthusiasm for PH, including from time to time even some from the redoubtable NY Mary.

Who has indulged me in this regard with a certain, er, bemusement.

But now, gosh darnit, I'm feeling vindicated, thanks to the appearance of Procol Harum: The Ghosts of a Whiter Shade of Pale. The clearly definitive biography of the band by my Facebook chum and all around swell guy Henry Scott-Irvine.



But let's let Henry explain why he wrote the book and why you need to read it, okay?



Seriously, this is one of the best rock bios I've read in a while; Henry's done yeoman research (talking to just about everybody who interacted with the band at all stages of their career) and he's as strong on what the music means as he is on the personal dramas behind its making.

Bottom line: You can, and should, order the book over at Amazon here.

And while I'm on the subject, let me conclude with a true Procol story I think I've told here before, but which behooves repeating, so never mind:

So. My college buds and I were kind of obsessed with Procol's song "All This and More" (from their masterpiece A Salty Dog, and with lyrics by Keith Reed, 'natch)...



...which has a line we never could parse. To wit: "Like Maddox in the days of old/We'll feast and drink until we fold."

Who the fuck is Maddox?, we puzzled long into several stoned dorm room nights. Got to be an obscure English lit reference, right? Trips to the college library and entreaties to various profs proved unavailing, so you can imagine our excitement when Procol Harum arrived, in the flesh, to play a show at our old school, and I conned my way backstage to confront the Great Lyricist himself.

Anyway, I finally cornered the guy -- who was basically sitting all by himself in the hospitality suite, playing with the roast beef -- and asked him breathlessly "Hey Keith -- to who were your referring with that Maddox line? What 16th century sonnet is that a metaphor from?"

He looked at me with some alarm and, before turning on his heels and fleeing, he said "Well, first of all, it's not Maddox. It's mad ox."

Like I said, true story. To this day, I don't know what the significance of a mad ox in the days of old is.

Oh, and just because I love all you guys -- please enjoy this thoroughly swell eight minute teaser trailer for an in-the-works Procol documentary.



Tons of great performances, and if you can contemplate drummer B.J. Wilson without going "whew," you're in need of medical attention.

The Present Day Nurk Twins Refuse(s) to Die!!!

From 2012, please enjoy power pop cult figure Mikal Cronin and friends (amongst whom I'm particularly fond of the drummer, for reasons I'm sure you've guessed) and an infectious unplugged version of Cronin's infectious-at-birth "Get Along."



I have to admit I was not previously familiar with this guy -- you can learn all about him here -- but "Get Along" just kills me. Especially those you-hoo-hoo's on the choruses.

By the by, I am not suggesting that the level of talent is comparable, but I nonetheless think it is not entirely far-fetched to suggest that this might sound a bit like Lennon and McCartney back in their skiffle days.

[h/t rurritable]

The. Best. Beatles. Cover. Ever.

This has gone viral pretty quickly, but still, I'd be remiss if I didn't post it along with everybody else.



Words fail me, obviously.

[h/t Watertiger]

Scenes From a Career

There's a nice little interview/retrospective with Greatest Living Welshman Dave Edmunds -- whose been everywhere and done everything, musically speaking -- in the current issue of UNCUT.

Among the more amusing revelations:

Led Zeppelin manager Peter Grant was a dick

"I'd signed a deal with Led Zep's Swansong [Records]. Nick Lowe and I met up at the Nashville Rooms and said "Let's get a band together." But when we made an album as Rockpile, I signed something with Jake Riviera whereby I gave away my recording rights. Hell broke loose over that and I couldn't work with Nick again. The two managers weren't a problem, though. Peter Grant wouldn't have even recognized Jake. He'd be like a bug to be stamped on."

Paul McCartney was a bit of a dick

"I've worked with Paul a few times. He was OK. All right. You've gotta be careful. Filming Give My Regards to Broad Street, a horrible film with horrible songs, we'd always be jamming something -- Ringo, Paul, me and Chris Spedding. And Chris started trying to play something when it was down tools. And someone came across to him and said 'Only play songs that Paul plays.' [laughs] We can only have fun if Paul starts it."

George Harrison was a bit of a dick

"Carl Perkins wanted me to put this TV show together and George said, 'Well, if you do that, I'll get Ringo and Eric.' I knew George pretty well. I was hanging out a lot with him at Friar Park. But we didn't talk about music. Unless it was George Formby. With people like The Beatles, you don't want to be pushing into 'Let's write a song,' or you'll be shut out forever. So I'd watch the racing with him on TV."

And Chuck Berry was a dick.

"I've played a few times with Chuck Berry. Once was on his 60th birthday. I put a band together to play with him, with John Entwistle on bass. Midway through the gig, John started getting a bit over confident and busy. Chuck walked over right into his face and said 'Don't do that!' In the dressing room, I said, 'Do you have a set list?' 'No, each song starts like this. Da-da-da-dad-da...' 'No kidding. How about ending?' 'I stamp my foot.'"

That last bit is perhaps less surprising than the others, of course.

Saturday Moment of Words Fail Me.

Just for a giggle.



I should add that on our last trip to Paris, a certain Shady Dame and I almost got run over by a horde of people riding those things. None of them looked as cool as the Fabs while doing it, obviously.

How I Know Brian Wilson is God (Part the Infinity)

Well, for starters, he wrote a fricking great song with my girlfriend's name as the title.



Also -- the new version, from the Beach Boys' 50th anniversary tour live album....





...is pretty damn great too.

Compare and Contrast: Special You Can't Copyright a Title Edition

From 1965, please enjoy (once again) Southern California garage punks The Lyrics and "So What!," their most blues-wailing ode to who gives a fuck.





And from 1981, who cares if you enjoy The Anti-Nowhere League and "So What!,: their completely different and defiantly foul-mouthed ode to who REALLY gives a fuck.





I really love both of these, if truth be told, and it is perhaps worth noting that the ANL "So What" was originally the B-side to the loudest, fastest cover of folkie Ralph McTell's "Streets of London" ever heard by sentient mammalian ears.

A Friend Writes...

..."Can J. Richman and Elvis Costello be spliced? I think this guy has done it."

I think so too, so please enjoy -- from 2012 -- irrepressible New York City-based power pop guy Eytan Mirsky and the poignantly optimistic "This Year's Gonna Be Our Year."



Not as good as the Zombies tune with a similar title and sentiment, but still -- absolutely adorable, I think.

[h/t Andy "Folk Rock" Pasternack]

The Present Day Sixties Relic Refuses to Die (An Occasional Series)

From (approximately) 2006, please enjoy Waddy Wachtel and Friends -- with special guest frontman Keith Allison -- stomping their way, authoritatively, through Elvis Costello's "Pump It Up."



Yes, Keith Allison. The Texas-born Paul McCartney look-alike who was briefly a teen idol on TV's Where the Action Is, and who later did a stint in Paul Revere and the Raiders.

And who made this absolutely killer single in early 1967.





"Louise" has an interesting provenance, by the way. It was written by Jesse Kincaid, who -- along with Taj Mahal and Ry Cooder -- was a member of The Rising Sons, perhaps the great lost American rock band of the mid-60s. And the backing track to Allison's version is identical to the one that appears (with vocal by Mark Lindsay) on the Raider's classic The Spirit of '67 album.

In any case, I had long assumed that Allison ended his career toiling in country music, like so many of his contemporaries, so what a delightful surprise to see that he remained a rocker at heart.

Seriously -- we should all kick such major ass thirty or forty years down the line.

Zallymania!!!

And proving yet again that YouTube is the greatest thing since the Library at Alexandria, from 1966 please enjoy a television interview -- whose existence was heretofore not even suspected by yours truly -- with the late great Zal Yanovsky, then of the Lovin Spoonful.



This dates from the heyday of the band's pop stardom, some months before the drug bust unpleasantness that essentially ended their career (at least as far as the hippies were concerned). In any case, I had never heard Zally speak before, so it's nice to know that apart from looking every inch the rock star as he does here, he was also as endearing and funny as he's been advertized.

And because I love all of you more than food, from 1968, here's Zally's wonderful cover of Floyd Cramer's piano instrumental "Last Date," which is as nice an example of Zally's country-inflected guitar style as you're ever gonna hear.

From his sole (alas) solo album, of course, which remains one of the great one-off masterpieces of 60s rock.





You're welcome.

Oh, and speaking of memorable 60s supporting players, you're not gonna believe who I'm gonna post -- in a live clip, stomping his way through an Elvis Costello song -- on the morrow.