Annals of Sibling Rivalry

From his 1980 debut solo album, please enjoy Kinks legend Dave Davies and the quite remarkable "Imagination's Real."




I know I had the LP version of this, and in fact I'm almost positive that I reviewed it for The Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review. On the other hand, I have absolutely no recollection of what I said about it -- although given my unfamiliarity with the record since, I suspect I thought it wasn't as clever as its cover art. In any event, having chanced across a digital version recently, I'm frankly very pleasantly surprised by how nice the album mostly is.

As you can hear, it's not remotely in what you might have thought was Dave's style (he plays and sings every note on the album, BTW), and the production is extremely bare bones (apparently deliberately). That said, I absolutely lurve the guitars on this one, and there's really something quite interesting and haunting about the whole thing.

[h/t Willard's Wormholes]

The Bird is the Word

So yesterday they were having an Anne Francis marathon on Turner Classic Movies, and before I dozed off, I was watching A Lion is in the Streets, a mostly excruciatingly bad 1953 knock-off of the far superior All the King's Men, with Jimmy Cagney doing a horrible Southern accent.

Although the young Annie (that's her on the left -- Barbara Hale, of Perry Mason TV fame, is in the middle)...



,,,looks pretty woo-hoo as a leggy heartbreaker named Flamingo.

Anyway, like I said, it's a terrible movie, but right after Annie was introduced it suddenly dawned on me, by which I mean the answer to a pop music question that had always puzzled me.

To wit: What the hell was 60s songwriter Mark Barkan thinking when he wrote "Pretty Flamingo," the 1966 classic originally recorded by Manfred Mann? I mean, who ever heard of a girl named Flamingo? Certainly nobody in my neighborhood.

So, obviously, Barkan had to have seen A Lion is in the Streets.

Anyway, that's my theory now, and I'm sticking with it. And if a bad movie can inspire a great song....here's an absolutely gorgeous 1975 cover by Bruce Springsteen....



...then I guess the whole thing turns out to have been worth it.

Steve's Tchotchke Collection (An Occasional Series): Charlie's Good Tonight, Isn't He?

Still in DivShare Hell at the moment. But in the meantime, here's another interesting relic of mine recently rescued from storage, along with various audio cassettes and VHS videos of crappy bands I've been in.

A 1991 reissue of Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts' utterly charming 1964 kids book about Charlie Parker.

Ode to a High Flying Bird.



As you can see, the illustrations are in the same wonderful cartoon style as the ones Watts contributed to The Stones' Between the Buttons album. The book itself came into my possession as a record company promo; Our hero was touring with his big (jazz) band, and whatever label put out the accompanying CD included this as a bonus for press geeks like myself.

Of course, my copy is personally autographed, thanks to a colleague who got to interview Watts at the time.

Needless to say, I am rather insufferably pleased to have this one.

"Everybody in the world has Frampton Comes Alive. If you lived in the suburbs you were issued it. It came in the mail with samples of Tide."

So the other week our pal Sal Nunziato, over at Burning Wood, was pondering the idea that maybe, just perhaps, the mostly disreputable Peter Frampton -- mega over-exposure victim of the 70s due to the (largely indefensible, I think) multi-platinum Frampton Comes Alive double LP -- might possibly deserve some critical re-evaluation.

Well, I don't know if I'd go quite that far, but I must admit that "All Night Long," from Frampton's second (1973) solo album (at a time when he was actually considered tres hip in what was then the hard-rock underground) has always struck me as an estimable piece of power pop. And that guitar riff on the choruses is way cool.




Apparently it appealed to Roger McGuinn as well, because he covered it -- tepidly -- on his 1977 Thunderbyrd album, the depressing near MOR followup to the wonderful Cardiff Rose.



In any case, it's still a good song. Like I said, though -- I'm not really sure if I'm ready to give Frampton a pass for his 70s heyday yet.

And yes, I'm still in DivShare Hell on my computer at home -- I did this on a certain shady dame's Mac in Brooklyn -- which is why there's no Listomania this week.

The Quiet Man

The trailer for Martin Scorsese's upcoming documentary on one of those Beatles guys.

In a word -- wow.

Steve's Tchotchke Collection (An Occasional Series)

So moldy old cassettes and videotapes of bands I was in and 3D Viewmaster slides of my Bar Mitzvah (I am not kidding about this) are not the only things I got out of storage recently.

Case in point -- this extremely rare 1976 pamphlet edition of a poem by (then an item) Godmother of Punk Patti Smith and Television guitarist Tom Verlaine.



Patti was kind enough to give me an autographed copy during the course of the 1978 interview I did with her for the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review. And years later -- some time in the early 90s -- a friend of mine, who was working with Verlaine's management, passed it along to Tom, who was equally kind enough to add his John Hancock along with handwritten notes as to which verses were his and which were Patti's.

What can I tell you -- it's one of my most treasured possessions, even if it IS pretentious enough to alternate pages in English and (presumably well-translated) French.

Well, I Guess It's True -- Death Sells!

Wow, suddenly fans of the late great Don Van Vliet are coming out of the woodwork.

Take this familiar...uh, face. Seen recently with a CD of his masterpiece, Trout Mask Replica.



And just last week, another person famous for being famous announced his affection for the great rock avant-gardist -- none other than blow-dried Republican presidential hopeful (and by hopeful, I mean in the sense that I am hopeful that some day I will have sex with Anne Hathaway) and Twitter fan Jon Huntsman!



From the Washington Wire, August 18, 2011:

HUNTSMAN HEARTS CAPTAIN BEEFHEART
By Neil King Jr.

Jon Huntsman, in his quest for more Twitter followers and — as an aside, the White House –- is highlighting some far-out tunes.

Like, well, Captain Beefheart jamming on a beach somewhere a long time ago and singing a raspy version of “Electricity.” With lyrics like: “High voltage man kisses night to bring the light to those who need to hide their shadow deed…Go into bright find the light and know that friends don`t mind just how you grow.”

The former Utah governor and ex-Obama ambassador to China flagged his love of the singer, who died last year, with this flash on his Twitter account: “I wonder if a tweet where I admit how much I like Captain Beefheart will make the followers skyrocket even more!”

The tweet provoked some fun responses on Twitter. “Nice try old man. You like Capt. Beefhart cuz he was a maniac who imprisoned his band, treating them like serfs,” said one Huntsman follower. “So your plan for relevance is to EMBRACE quirky/weird? Is that an admission credentials/brains don’t matter in today’s GOP,” said another.

The Paris Hilton pic and the Huntsman item also occasioned the following e-mail from my old college chum Eric C. Boardman:

He [Huntsman]'s my man!

Obama's internet team is still canvassing which bands he should like. And once he declares, he will waffle a week later. "Americans still believe in an America where anything's possible. For instance, three months without a Neil Young release. Or a Dillards reunion." There's some effing change to believe in.

And like Huntsman, Ms Hilton believes in climate change. At a symposium of Euro-trash trust fund douchebags in Prague she often said, "That's hot."

Heh.

More Proof, If Any Was Needed, That the Only Real Sin, in Commercial Terms, is Being Ahead of Your Time

Okay, if this one doesn't blow your mind, nothing will.

First of all, take a listen to the unidentified mp3 below. All I will say about it is that it's the work of a fairly significant figure in rock history, and that it's a mostly dismissed-at-the-time cut on what is generally considered to be his best solo album.



Sounds like The Clash, right? I mean, EXACTLY like The Clash...specifically The Clash circa "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" in 1982.

Well, it's not. And, in fact, at the time it was recorded, in early 1976, The Clash hadn't even played their first gig as a band, let alone begun work on their debut album.

Trust me -- when you finally Google it and figure out who it is, your jaw is going to drop around the vicinity of your ankles.

[h/t Willard's Wormholes]

You've Got a Day to Waste, Right?

A friend on FB posted this link, to Rock Scene magazine, which was published from 1973-1982. Though it's kind of embarrassingly Kiss-heavy (seems like I can't get away from that these days*), it's a fascinating core sample of the New York scene at the time, at least, it seems to be. Anyone who was there want to weigh in?










(Of course, I hunted for this first.)

Side note: all magazines need this sort of site. ALL.

*Finishing up Boys Don't Lie, responding to a perfectly reasonable request from my editor to keep up all from getting sued, I ended up spending days and days mired in Kiss minutae. Specifically, I needed to get to the relationship between Glickman/Marks Management and Simmons Records, just before, uh, Kiss fired G/M and sued them for, oh, $17 million dollars or so. Talked to this guy, who was wonderfully helpful, and I feel more or less legally sound now.

Weekend Cinema Listomania (Special The Dude Abides Edition)

Video Event of the Week: Might IFC's DVD of Super, with Rainn Wilson as a superhero trying to win back unfaithful Liv Tyler, by any chance be what we're talking about? Might Universal's Blu-ray of Paul, the sci-fi spoof with Seth Rogen as the voice of a C.G.I. alien, conceivably get the nod? Or is it remotely possible that Twilight Times' deluxe newly remastered disc versions of The Egyptian, the widescreen 1954 spectacle starring Edmund Purdom as the son of a cheesemaker (seriously -- he's referred to that way on several occasions) could actually be The One(s)?

All worthy, to be sure, especially that last (seriously -- it's a hoot), but for my money, it simply has to be Universal's deluxe new Blu-ray version of perhaps the greatest work of art in all of human endeavor, the Coen Brothers 1998 The Big Lebowski.

About the film itself, there is very little left to say except that it's still the most outrageously deadpan funny thing the Coens have ever done -- a sort of Raymond Chandler in a cannabis haze detective story in which L.A. figures as a character and the meaning of life can be found in a bowling alley. More to the point, there is dialogue in here that I would have absolutely killed to have written; I'm not sure on a day to day basis whether or not "Nihilists! Fuck me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos" is the most hilarious line in screen history (I'm also partial to the Dude's curt dismissal of Metallica, for whom he roadied in the 80s, as a "bunch of assholes"). But whichever joke is your favorite, there's no doubt that in The Dude, the Coens created perhaps the most original American comic character since John Kennedy Toole's Ignatius J. Reilly in A Confederacy of Dunces. Part stoner, part surfer, part schlemiehl, the Dude is a walking Zen koan, and Jeff Bridges shambling performance is a marvel of understated slapstick timing. And the rest of the characters, as brought to life by John Goodman, Steve Buscemi, John Turturro and Julianne Moore (among others) are all almost equally memorable.

Here -- have a look at a recent cast reunion staged in honor of the new Blu-ray.



I should add that although the film has been upped to Blu-ray high def for this new edition, on a strictly technical level what's here differs only incrementally from the previous DVD versions. That said, the limited edition packaging is amusing (an interview with the actual L.A. indie film producer the Coens based the Dude on), plus there are a bunch of de rigeur (and generally interesting) making-of docs along with the new transfer. The real selling point, of course, is the digital copy deal; you can download TBL to your computer or the hand-held device of your choice, at least until the code expires at the end of December.

In any case, you can -- and if you're Blu-ray capable, probably should -- order the new Lebowski package over at Amazon here.

And with that out of the way, and because things will doubtless be a little torpid around here for a couple of days, here's a fun and clearly relevant little project to occupy us during the traditional downtime:

Not So Well Known Film That Most Deserves to Have a Cult Following But For Some Strange Reason Doesn't!!!

And my totally top of my head Top Five is/are:

5. The Ref (Ted Demme, 1994) )



On the run cat burglar Denis Leary takes suburban couple Kevin Spacey and Judy Davis hostage; unfortunately, they hate each other more than life itself. Absolutely hilarious black Christmas comedy, sort of like It's a Wonderful Life meets No Exit. Inspirational dialogue: "Great, I hijacked my fucking parents."

4. Whispering Ghosts (Alfred L. Werker, 1942)



A scary, atmospheric (in the Universal horror sense) and very very funny old dark house comedy of the sort they really don't make anymore. Uncle Miltie's a riot, but John Carradine steals it as a guy who does animal impressions for no apparent reason.

3. Among the Living (Stuart Heisler, 1941)



I've flogged this one before, but it remains an absolutely astounding B-thriller, with an almost Lang-ian visual flair and an amazing performance by Albert Dekker as good and bad twins separated at birth. Plus Frances Farmer and the young and va-va-voom Susan Hayward. It's never been on home video, for whatever reason, but you can watch it in its entirety over here.

2. The Last Legion (Doug Lefler, 2007)



Romans versus Goths, with outrageous fight scenes, a twist ending you probably won't see coming and Colin Firth in a skirt; essentially it's the biggest budget episode of Xena, Warrior Princess that never got made. Vastly entertaining hokum, and why it's disappeared down the memory hole is beyond me.

And the Numero Uno Should-Have-Been-An-Underground-Sensation flick of them all simply has to be...

1. Hickey & Boggs (Robert Culp, 1972)



A burn-out private eye (Robert Culp) and his thoroughly bummed-out partner (Bill Cosby) make their last stand via a great script by Walter Hill, and it sank without a trace when it was released theatrically. Vastly darker and more cynical than I Spy, but the Culp/Cosby chemistry is, if anything, even more palpable. There's a new DVD version coming in a few weeks; hopefully, somebody out there will notice what a terrific little movie this is.

Alrighty then -- what would your choices be?