All Reeds Load to Gnome

Why you pay the big bucks to live in the five boros: The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts (at Lincoln Center) is curently running Lou Reed: Under the Twisted Stars, an absolutely smashing exhibit and tribute to the late great rock auteur.

And I should know, because I was dere, Charlie, a few weeks ago, for the show's official opening night party.

Among the attractions at the show, which runs till March 4th, is a listening room where (including other sonic assaults) you can hear excerpts from Metal Machine Music when it was a work in progress; explore a recreation of Reed collaborator Hal Willner's recording studio; and sample a DJ set of doo wop singles from Lou's record collection spun by Patti Smith guitarist Lenny Kaye. The Library also now features a Reed research archive, i.e. a definitive collection of his lyrics, poetry, correspondence, hand-written notebooks, etc, which was donated by Lou's partner and main squeeze Laurie Anderson last year.

I should add that the opening night-- which was lavishly catered, i.e. with lots of free food and booze -- was the kind of fete that (back in the 70s) I attended, for professional reasons, pretty much five evenings a week. Which is to say that not only was the exhibition absolutely splendid, but as a social event it inspired a certain slack-jawed nostalgia in yours truly. Damn -- I was a really lucky bastard in my days at the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review.

I should also add that I once got to meet and shake hands with Lou at a party the magazine threw (I believe) in early 1973; it was one of our Record of the Year shebangs, and it was among the most awkward experiences of my life. Fortunately, there's a lovely capper to the story which perhaps I'll tell later this week.

In any case, for more info on the show, check out the NYPL's website OVER HERE.

[h/t Rebecca Littman]

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "The Four Seasons" Edition)

From 1967, please enjoy The Hollies and (the b-side of "Carrie-Anne") their gorgeous (Clarke-Hicks-Nash penned) "Signs That Will Never Change."

The song itself first saw the light of vinyl in 1966, on The Everly Brothers Two Yanks in England LP, on which the Bros were backed by The Hollies. But this rendition has some vaguely psychedelic touches that to my ears make it definitive. In any case, a genuine overlooked classic.

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "The Band That Died For Your Fins" Edition)

From their 1982 Album -- Generic Flipper, please enjoy the aforementioned Flipper and their toe-tapping classic "Sex Bomb Baby."

These guys made an idiosyncratic brand of punk rock that was simultaneously hilarious and disturbing. I must admit that I was kind of late to the party where they were concerned, but the first time I heard the song above I knew I would never be the same.

I should add that Flipper's 1993 masterpiece (American Grafishy) sported the greatest album title in history.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "Follow the Money" Edition)

From 1974, and their sophomore album Sheet Music, please enjoy 10cc and their mordant, ironic (and obviously still relevant) ode to rapacious greed "The Wall Street Shuffle."

Like most of the early 10cc stuff, it was too hip for the room (i.e., it was a hit in the UK but bombed here).

I should add that it was co-penned by Graham Gouldman, who in my humble opinion is the greatest British rock songwriter of his day whose last name isn't either Lennon or McCartney.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "The Poor Are Always With Us" Edition)

From early 1967, please enjoy Los Angeles country-folk-pop-garage-psychedelic band The Poor and their terrific minor hit single -- okay, it made the Top 40 in New York City, and I actually owned a copy of the 45 seen below when it came out -- "She's Got the Time (She's Got the Changes").

The short version: These guys were bassist Randy Meisner's band before he joined Poco (and later The Eagles), and they were managed by the guys who handled Buffalo Springfield. Also as you can hear and see...

...the song -- which is terrific -- was written by Tom Shipley, later of the duo responsible for "One Toke Over the Line." Okay, I've forgiven both of them.

I should add that the comp album above is one of the coolest artifacts of the just-pre-San Francisco rock era, and well worth checking out.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "Snoopy -- the Comic Strip Dog, Not the Rapper -- Would Have Flipped For This One" Edition)

From late 1966, and the B-side to their deserved hit single "Hello, Hello," please enjoy the vastly underrated Sopwith Camel and "Treadin'," one of the great lost folk-rock records of all time. Sort of a cross between the original Byrds and middle-period Zombies.

Don't get me started on the Camel; those guys were historically important for being the first of the Fillmore era hippie San Francisco bands to score a hit single, and their album pictured above -- which didn't come out for a year or so after their breakthough success for reasons that have been murky ever since -- is an utter masterpiece. God knows it's vastly superior on every level to both the debut LPs by their contemporaries the Grateful Dead and the Jefferson Airplane.

I should add that it was produced, brilliantly, by Erik Jacobsen (who helmed the records of the Lovin' Spoonful, Norman Greenbaum and Chris Isaak) and that to the best of my knowledge "Treadin'" did not appear on any actual version of the Camel album back in the day, nor was it available in a stereo mix previously. Discovering this version has been one of the biggest surprises I've had since I woke up in 2016 and learned that a mediocre James Bond Villain had mysteriously become president of these United States.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved : An Occasional Feature (Special "You Be Bad, Girl" Edition)

From their eponymous 1985 debut album, please enjoy should-have-been-bigger LA band Lone Justice and their terrific -- written by Tom Petty and Mike Campbell -- single "Ways to Be Wicked."

If memory serves I first became aware of these kids when they did the song above on Saturday Night Live; in any case, I remember flipping out over the album and raving about it in the pages of The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review. Haven't heard any of the rest of the record in years, but this one -- which I rediscovered last week -- holds up, I think.

Trivia Note: lead singer Maria McKee is the half sister of the late Bryan Maclean, the Brian Jones blonde look-alike in Arthur Lee's Love.

Have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved (An Occasional Feature)...

...will return tomorrow, and the song in question is a doozy. Trust me on this, and sorry for the delay necessitated by real world concerns.

See you Saturday.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "Who Were These Guys, Anyway?" Edition)

From 1965, please enjoy Brit popsters Unit Four plus Two (featuring future Argent drummer Bob Henrit) and their quite lovely Beatles/Beach Boys-esque take on the venerable pop hit "When I Fall In Love."

The song itself -- co-written written by celebrated film composer Victor Young -- was originally featured in a 1952 Robert Mitchum Cold War thriller, and has been covered innumerable times, including by Linda Ronstadt and Rick (It Was Ghastly) Astley.

The version above, however, was the B-side of the international hit "Concrete and Clay," and as a teenager I used to play it obsessively. I mean more than the A-side; it had a Dion and the Belmonts doo wop vibe that somehow connected with the pre-college me.

A lovely record, in any case, and nice to be re-acquainted with it after all these years.

Records I'd Forgotten Existed, Let Alone Loved: An Occasional Feature (Special "Alan Turing" Edition)

From 1982, please enjoy first generation greaseballs The Capris -- of "There's a Moon Out Tonight" fame -- and their fabulous modern day doo wop cult hit "Morse Code of Love."

The short backstory:

As attentive readers are no doubt aware, I'm a sucker for doo wop. Apparently so were some people at Sony Music -- a couple of rock critics, if memory serves -- who ran, briefly, a low budget label subsidiary called Ambient Sound, which was devoted to doo wop old and and new.

In any event, I was vaguely aware of all this, but for some reason never bothered to listen to the stuff Ambient released when their vinyl crossed my desk at the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review. But then sometime in the late 80s I happened to hear "Morse Code of Love" for the first time on WCBS-FM (our local oldies radio station) while travellling home from a weekend long recording session in Delaware, and practically leapt out of the car in joy at the innocent gorgeousnesss of the song. And when I looked it up and found out that it was a actually a contemporary track, my little heart danced in ways I find difficult to describe.

Since then, I've binge-listened to it every couple of years, and last week I went nuts over it all over again. Hopefully, you guys will have the same reaction to it as I did.

Oh and BTW -- I should add that Manhattan Transfer did a drop dead great cover of it (billed as "Baby Come Back") that is the perfect capper to the saga, especially since it actually charted.