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.
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