And speaking of the Fab Four, I've been searching the web for this picture of the Fabs at 64 for some months now. My befuddled brain remembered it as having appeared perhaps in LIFE magazine back in the day, but my old pal Steve Schwartz, who's forgotten more about the Beatles than I've had hot meals and who forwarded it, reminds me it's from the 1969 book The Beatles: The Illustrated Lyrics.
In any case, with hindsight, the artist got a few of the actual details wrong -- there are few things that fill me with more sadness than the fact there are only two living Beatles at the moment -- but as a fantasy it's simply lovely. Paul looks like the cheerful successful bourgeois burgher he probably really is, while John and Ringo are glorious old duffers who could have served with C. Aubrey Smith in some The British in India movie from the 30s. George, of course, looks like the dapper, slightly mysterious old hippy he was before the cancer took him.
For what it's worth, of course, George Orwell famously said that every man over 50 gets the face he deserves. By that standard, the actual living Paul and Ringo are doing pretty good, I think.
LONDON (Reuters) - An unreleased, experimental track by The Beatles could be made public 41 years after it was recorded at Abbey Road studios, ex-member Paul McCartney has said.
McCartney, one of two surviving members of arguably the most successful pop band in history, told BBC Radio that "Carnival of Light" was The Beatles at their most free, "going off piste."
"I said it would be great to put this on because it would show we were working with really avant-garde stuff," McCartney told Radio 4's Front Row culture show in an interview to be broadcast on Thursday.
He confirmed that he had a master tape of the track, which many Beatles fans assumed until now was a piece of musical myth, and added: "The time has come for it to get its moment."
What do you reckon? It could be appalling, you know. Or wonderful. But it sounds like "Revolution Number 9," only not so lucid.
Paul must have lost a lot in the divorce to be considering this.
Well, it's Friday, and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental amanuensis Hop-Sing and I are off to...well, actually I can't tell you where we're off to because I'm in the midst of firing the disloyal little toad (hint: That Mitzi Gaynor album is missing again) and I don't want to involve lawyers.
But in any case, posting by moi will be completely not happening until Monday.
Thus, in my absence, here's a little project for us all:
Coolest Post-Elvis Song or Record Referencing The Emotion of Sadness or the Word Sadness Itself (Title or Lyric!!!)
No arbitrary rules this time -- just take your meds and promise you won't slash your wrists when all this is over.
And my totally top of my head Top Eight is:
8. Little Miss Sad -- The Five Emprees
A big hit in the Chicago area, summer of '65. My across the hall college neighbor that fall turned me on to it just this year. Thanks, Eric!
7. Sad Songs (Say So Much) -- Elton John
I've never owned an Elton album or particularly even wanted to, but for some reason this song gets under my skin.
6. Still I'm Sad -- The Yardbirds
You know, for a blues band, these guys sure did a lot of modal Middle-Eastern sounding stuff.
5. Sad Peter Pan -- Smashing Pumpkins
You thought it was going to be that Melon Collie shit, didn't you?
Inspirational verse:
It's the plan of most To discover that magnificent ghost When did I get perverted And my innocent eyes diverted from the view so grand Imbued with distractions I'm greedy like Senior Babbitt I'm just chasing that electric rabbit I'm a reluctant rebel I just want to be Aaron Neville
I'm really glad Billy Corgan takes himself seriously because after reading that it's a wonder anybody else does.
4. I Was Young When I Left Home -- Bob Dylan
It's like a distillation of all the melancholy in the world. And people said he couldn't sing...
3. Sad Little Girl -- The Beau Brummels
There is a school of thought, to which I occasionally subscribe, that BB's frontman Sal Valentino is one of the greatest rock voices ever.
2. The River -- Bruce Springsteen
As Thelma Ritter says in All About Eve -- what a story; everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end.
And the number one it's-all-so-sad song, don't give me a hard time about this or I'll harm you, quite obviously is ---
1. I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry -- Hank Williams
Still the most profoundly blue piece of music ever recorded.
Awrighty, then -- what would your choices be?
[Shameless blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania (theme: Genre parodies) is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could see your way over there to leave a comment, an angel gets its wings, blah blah blah.]
From an indeterminate date, here's somebody named Toby Goodshank and a photomontage based on "My Uncle Used to Love Me But She Died" by the late great Roger Miller (NOT the one from Mission of Burma).
As always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who divines the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.
But to paraphrase Groucho Marx in A Night at the Opera, if you get this one you're good.
Over at The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review, the editors have come up with yet another list of the Top 50 Albums of All Time.
4: The Rolling Stones:Let It Bleed (London; ABKCO) This isn’t just a farewell to a decade; a counterpart to Goodbye Baby & Amen (Stones cover photographer David Bailey’s book of portraits, published earlier the same year), it’s the sound of an era shutting down. The album opens with the aural equivalent of a pistol shot in the apocalyptic “Gimme Shelter.” And it ends with an ode to resignation, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” — which is also, in Greil Marcus’s apt phrase, the most outrageous production ever staged by a rock & roll band. In between, there’s a lot of stuff that sounds like cowboys playing the blues, a lot more stuff about sex and death and power (the Stones’ great subjects), and best of all, Keith Richards’s first solo vocal, on the utterly gorgeous “You Got the Silver.” The band’s next two studio LPs were variations on the theme; if Let It Bleed was the last gasp of the ’60s party, Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main St. were the staggering home at sunrise and the subsequent hangover. — STEVE SIMELS
For the rest of the list, including several other equally pretentious capsule reviews by moi, feel free to go here.
That's The Hold Steady, on Conan O'Brien back in August, with the title song from their brilliant Stay Positive (which I can reveal will be, barring an act of The Flying Spaghetti Monster, my number one album pic in the upcoming Village Voice critic's poll).
Incidentally, they live in Brooklyn, in a certain shady dame's neighborhood, but of course that hasn't influenced my judgement about them or the record in any way.
The Hollywood Brats where England's New York Dolls, althought they didn't realize they were both working in the same medium at the time. The LP that they recorded in 1973 was never released at the height of their powers and we can only imagine a battle of the bands between the two groups. Band member Casino Steel (probably one of the greatest sobriquets of the era) finally ended up in punk/poppers The Boys, who released a cover of Sick on You on their eponymous first LP in 1977. Proto-punk at its finest.
Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental flunky Hop-Sing and I are off to one of the many homes of Sen. John McCain (R-pathetic loser) for a weekend long pity party. Supposedly some talk radio personality will be stopping by with goodie bags full of Oxycontin, so it's quite possible that posting by moi will be somewhat fitful for a few days.
But in my absence, here's a fun project for you all to contemplate:
Most Memorable Post-Elvis Song or Record Whose Title or Lyrics References High Temperatures or Combustion!!!!
No arbitrary rules this time. Unless you don't have AC, in which case just have a drink.
In any case, my totally top of my head Top Six would be....
6. A tie:
Jimi Hendrix -- Fire
and
The Crazy World of Arthur Brown -- Fire
I personally prefer the Arthur Brown "Fire," but that's mostly because he wore a bunsen burner on his head when he sang it.
5. Another tie:
Dwight Twilley -- I'm on Fire
and
Bruce Springsteen -- I'm on Fire
Funny that both of these are rockabilly-inflected. I have no idea if that has any larger meaning, I just think it's interesting.
4. Smashing Pumpkins -- Tales of a Scorched Earth
Proving once again that there's no Listomania subject too specific for us to find some tortured connection to Billy Corgan and his pretentious cueball noggin.
3. Bubble Puppy -- Hot Smoke and Sassafrass
The first heavy rock band in Texas, and a surprisingly good song if you can get past the really dopey lyrics and the awful group name.
2. Sly and the Family Stone -- Hot Fun in the Summertime
The political irony of this song is less apparent in 2008 than it was back in the day, but on its other, less fraught, level it remains as joyous and uplifting as ever.
And the number one "Is it warm in here or is it just me?" song, don't contradict me because frankly I'm dying here and I don't have the energy to smack you, is....
1. The Beach Boys -- The Warmth of the Sun.
Brian Wilson has said this was inspired by the Kennedy assassination, although I've never really gotten the connection if truth be told. In any case, there are days I think it's the most beautiful song he ever wrote, regardless of what prompted it.
Awrighty then -- what would your choices be?
[Shameless Blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania (theme: overlooked thrillers!) is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could see your way to go over there and post a comment, an angel has its testicles descend.]
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