Great Googa Mooga Shooga Wooga!

Malcolm In The Middle of the Earth

2010-04-13T05:24:00.000-07:00

A few days ago pop Svengali Malcolm McLaren died. He’s best known as the manager of the Sex Pistols. In the 70s he also ran a successful boutique with famous designer Vivienne Westwood, and in preparation for his Pistols stint he orchestrated the last gasp of proto punks the New York Dolls.

Today as his corpse lay rotting McLaren is remembered as a trendsetter and visionary. Last week most would’ve said scumbag, crook, opportunist. All are correct descriptions.

Through his shop Let It Rock (later renamed Too Fast To Live Too Young To Die, then Sex, then Seditionaries) he and Westwood created the deconstructed look of torn t-shirts, safety pin earrings, bondage trousers, mental patient haircuts in day-glo colors - in fact organic versions of all the shit you’d see in the Hot Topic shop at your local mall.

With The Sex Pistols McLaren created – created - a band of true misfits who’s playing was barely adequate, who’s demeanor was the ultimate in anti-social behavior, and through his promotional duties he got them banned from almost every live music venue, TV studio and radio outlet throughout the UK. When they scored a recording contract, workers refused to press the records. When the record finally got released and shot straight to number 1, the music press wouldn’t even list it. The number one spot was displayed as a BLANK line. Then they came to America for a week or so and broke up. From cradle to grave all of this took 18 months. And for that brief time they were the absolute greatest f#%king band EVER.

Today this uber-bad boy shtick seems commonplace. Back then, none of this had ever happened before. No, not Elvis or Stones. Not even close. And it was all down to McLaren. ALL of it. But he was no mere Colonel Punk Parker or Blank Brian Epstein. McLaren did other things, too.

In the early 80s he recorded some of the first hip hop/rock sides that would later become commonplace. He used bagpipes, recorded phone conversations and scratching to give his tracks a more global feel. He produced a dancefloor friendly version of Madam Butterfly. He was instrumental in creating the New Romantic movement that America most obviously saw manifested in Boy George. He did a lot of other things, but I’m tired of writing about him. Look it up on the internet.

Trust me – whoever you are, and no matter how little you may be familiar with “punk”, you know about it because of Malcolm McLaren. He came to New York in 1976 and took a small underground movement back to the UK and mixed it up with fluorescent paint & beer and puked it up into the faces of youths worldwide.

Read this – Roger Ebert and Russ Meyer were involved in a Sex Pistols film that never quite got off the ground. It's a great piece.

http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2010/04/malcolm_meyer_rotten_vicious_m.html

End Of Intermission

2010-04-12T08:15:00.000-07:00

In the immortal words of Sly Stone: heard you missed me, well I’m back.

I used to do all my blog entries from work, but everything’s been locked down since January, including all blog sites. I can’t stream music – no WWOZ Nawlins. no WFMU Jersey. no XFM London. I can’t listen to Rodney Bingenheimer live from LA on Sunday nites. I can’t stream from Sirius. Facebook and Ebay have been blocked. But I can create a Word doc, email it to my Hotmail account, pick it up at home & Bob’s Yer Uncle, an updated blog.

Who really cares what’s been happening with me since last summer? Let’s get on with the here & now.

IMPORTANT: Record Store Day is fast approaching. FYI it’s this Saturday, April 17, 2010. PARTICIPATE! This is the day for all the existing record stores to strut their stuff & hopefully make some money. I fully support the in-person record buying experience, even though I hate most of the people shopping along side of me (hey, you're too close, step back!). Boy, if I had a record store it’d be like Studio 54 - not everyone’s getting in. Sure, I wouldn’t make money, but I ain’t doing it for the money. Art does not equal commerce for me.

This year I’m excited about the special Record Store Day releases. A bargeload of artists are releasing very limited runs of 7” singles to be sold on RSD only. The chance of getting what you want is probably a hell of a lot better if you’re in, say, London, NY, Chicago or Portland (the latest city of choice for cultural lemmings – sorry, Williamsburg). The Fall have one. Daptone has one from soul queen Sharon Jones. The Stones have an “Exile On Main St” era unreleased track on offer. Even the bloody Beatles are re-releasing Paperback Writer/Rain, and Elvis has some crap out, too. Some of these quantities number in the hundreds, some more, some less. And who knows what the distribution setup is? You pays yer money, you takes yer choice.

Please go out & buy some CDs or records on that day. It may not matter to some, but the record store is a dying business, and to see it disappear as a haven for music lovers is a shame. Hey, I buy from Amazon & Ebay too, but absolutely nothing compares to rifling through racks of music and actually holding them in your grubby mitts, or getting a headache from rolling your eyes repeatedly from overheard nerd conversations about Wolfmother and Beach House. Give me a frikkin’ break.

I'll be going now

2009-07-09T23:03:00.000-07:00

The time has come to take a hiatus from the slang-fest that is GGMSW. I have many last-minute tasks to attend to. Shave the head, loofa the feet, cut the nails, and (sob) hang the bike up. It didn't get used very much this season. And of course guilt is part of my make-up, so I'll be obsessing about it for awhile. Until the meds kick in.

Quite possibly in a month or so I'll be back, both here & on Facebook, to delight and astound with my spot-on insights and bullshit opinions.

And now, let the show begin.

Garages Are For Bands

2009-07-07T01:58:00.000-07:00

Didja ever see this? A person has a nice deck built off the back of their groovy condo, and yet... they sit in the garage on an old lawn chair!!

Well, they do that in my neighborhood. A lot. And they're not even practicing with their band.

Look, I'm like Lolita in my neighborhood. Most of my neighbors are retired. Aside from the young couple next door and myself, everyone watches Matlock & eats linner.

But this garage thing has me stymied. Maybe it's the equivalent of sitting on your front porch, like back in the old days when Bill Kennedy & Marc Avery were your primary entertainment moguls. You'd plop yourself in your webbed aluminum chair and toss a wave to your neighbor & congregate out front for a cold coca cola, or just idly watch the passing parade. Well, no one really is passing around here. I take that back, because some folks walk their old people dogs. You know, those Rat Terriers that have spindly little legs like their owners - at least the owners who don't have that bloated leg dilemma happening.

Here's the thing: these decks didn't come with the place, you had to get 'em separately, like an afterthought. So do they only get used when the grandkids come by?

I'll be honest with you: I also have one of them there decks, and it doesn't get used near as much as it used to. But I'm not in my garage, no sir. I'm laying on my bed, watching my flat screen tv. If I'm not there, that's usually where I wish I was.

Now hear this: As of next week I'm looking at 2 months off work due to foot surgery (not related to the bloated leg thing). You've heard me rattle on about it ad nauseum. At any rate, I'm planning all these relaxing activities, and due to my immobility they all revolve around my bed. It's summer & I have a deck but I haven't given much thought to sitting out there drinking the day away in the sun. For one thing it's further from the bathroom, and that in itself is gonna be one interesting journey. I mean, there's that ground level obstacle at the junction of outside & inside to navigate. And I want it as easy as possible. Maybe the 3rd week or so.

I do have a small front porch. Maybe I'll go tres retro & set up a chair out there, with my transistor & a cooler full of Faygo Uptown.

Oooh! Oooh! Of Thee I Sing!

2009-07-03T01:27:00.000-07:00

It's time for pyrotechnics, for drinking too much & accidentally shooting something or someone, for hotdogs and warm potato salad, for ... well, anything. It's time to celebrate your independence!! And it comes to you smack dab in the middle of the weekend!

America: Baseball. Springsteen. Rhapsody In Blue. Cedar Point. Swimmin'. Grillin' Killin' (I just threw that last one in there to see if you were paying attention). (And actually Cedar Point could be replaced with Wildwood, Palisades Park, Six Flags, Geauga Lake, etc.) (But not Disney) (Not that Disney isn't American, I mean, Christ, it's like the love child of Betsy Ross & George M. Cohen, but it's just not "Our Town" enough)

What state is this world of ours in where our country is one major clusterf$%k yet it's still the best place on earth? Bermuda doesn't even seem to be a dream destination for me anymore, what with the wiggers there. Wait, that's not quite right.

As I inch closer to my extended summer vacation & The Intl Film Festival (special screenings of classic beach movies, cult films, horror classics and a manicured handful of rock&roll gems), I am reminded of the inimitable words of the great Joe E. Ross:

Do you mind? DO YOU MIND?

I don't know what that means, this is just stream-of-consciousness shit while I'm listening to Dave The Spazz so it just made sense.

Four Dead In Ohio (and elsewhere)

2009-06-28T21:09:00.001-07:00

I don't care about Michael Jackson. I don't think I ever "cared" about him. He started out in the early 70s but will forever be representative of the '80's.

(a whole big giant paragraph deleted. some things are better left unsaid.)

Farrah Fawcett & her nipples never thrilled me. I never used her as a "prop". I was more a Joan Collins/Grace Jones guy.

Billy Mays: what can I say. Quite a ball player.

Sky Saxon - Sky "Sunlight" Saxon - grew into a reclusive strange-o as his legacy progressed. In 1966 his band The Seeds were all over LA and will forever be linked with the Sunset Strip crowd that also spawned Love, The Doors and Buffalo Springfield. Saxon left us with a number of great songs, most notably "Pushin' Too Hard", today revered as one of the original garage "nuggets". When I first started getting into the internet I came across Sky Saxon's email address (I don't know how), and sent him a gushing missive. And he replied, which I printed out & have it put away in my archives somewhere.

Now...back to our regularly scheduled program.

I Have So Much In Common With Me

2009-06-24T00:20:00.001-07:00

This is not just me being contrary, Mary. I don't know what most people are talking about. Or why. And I have little or no interest in the lion's share of it.

Here's the thing: As with a lot of people, most of my waking hours are spent at work. I work with two other people. That's it, two people, no one else is around. Most of the shift is spent with a pair of earbuds screwed into my head, sometimes with nary a word uttered for hours. Wait, did I mention I work midnights? Yeah, and it's great.

So I live in my own little corner of the world. Then when I come home, I'm alone. When I wake up I spend maybe two hours with my wife, then it's off to work again. And so on.

On the offchance that I mix with other people in a social setting, I try to keep it light. Light, airy & brimming with kicks, laughs & jovial witticisms. Because it appears that my views - especially - ESPECIALLY - when it comes to matters of the world - are quite singular. How can it be that virtually all of the people I see in those social settings possess views that I consider reprehensible? Is it me? Because it sometime seems like it is. They certainly make me feel like it's me.

Maybe it's my insular daily routine. Maybe it's that I have the same morals and ideals I had back when most of these other people had the same ideals, but since then they've had a change of heart. And that's being kind.

I hate talking about work with people. But I understand why people do it, since we've established the fact that most of your time etc. But honestly I don't give a shit about your job. I also hate talking politics because of the reasons previously stated. What's left, religion? HAH! That's the one thing no one (including myself) has any interest in discussing.

I'm a card player. And a smoker & a drinker.

I have had so many experiences where people have strongly - STRONGLY - voiced their choice on something and ... wow, have I gotten off topic.

Back to my original thought: I don't know what people are talking about.

But I do know this: we are NOT going to turn into a socialist country. Don't be an asshole. To be honest that's the thing I hear most from these people I come in contact with. Yeah, it seems really bad now but didn't you ever have to clean up after your dog took a shit on the rug? OK then, you know what I'm talking about.

Now cool the f$#k out.

Summer Still Means Fun

2009-06-18T23:39:00.000-07:00

As my wife begins her 6-8 weeks off work due to foot surgery (yeah, her too) I'm getting psychologically ready for a summer of leisure. AFTER I wait on her day & night. My daughter said, as my birthday came round at the end of May, "why does his (meaning my) birthday always have to be like he's eight?" And y'know, she's right. Although I'd put it in the eleven to something-teen range. Here's why my birthday is so recreation-friendly: I was born on May 29, a Friday, at 3:30 which I consider to be just in time for school to let out not only for the weekend but for summer vacation. It's kinda the way I'm wired. I have trillions of summer memories. Hey, it was the sixties, then the seventies. It was capital f-u-n. I am looking forward to my own stretch of footlessness (mid-july to mid-september) which I'll fill up with stacks of cheezy fun movies, poptastic books, six days worth (without nary a repeat) of rockin' summer jams on my iPod (which I should name), and plenty of pizza deliveries and any-ole-time-I-want drinkin' and smokin' schedule. Cuz I'll probably die soon. We all will. The one thing I'll miss is my baby Mozella. No bike ridin' for me in three weeks. Well, maybe in October for awhile, if Dr. Bombay gives me the high sign.

I'll Lose A Friend Tomorrow

2009-06-14T21:30:00.000-07:00

I didn't know about him. Maybe you did (and you didn't tell me??!?). His name was Huey Long, and he played guitar accompaniment for The Ink Spots.

And he was 105 years old.

Bill Kinney, the main cat for the 'Spots, caught Huey & his trio at the Three Deuces on 52nd Street in 1945 & asked him to join up. This was in the 'Spots heyday. So he did, and stayed with them for a scant 9 months. Then the cat he was replacing, Charlie Fuqua, came back from the war. (Charlie was Moonglow Harvey's uncle)

One of the cool things, I thought, was that even though he was a "Spot" for only 9 months, he played Detroit in that time frame.

Huey also played with Fletcher Henderson and Earl Hines, and had performed with Sassy, Bird & Diz before starting his own trio, just before the Ink Spots gig.

After the Ink Spots he played with Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis' Be-Boppers, and did some USO gigs.

Huey recorded a number of sides with The Ink Spots. among them the tune from which I pulled the title of this post.

105? I don't know, I thought I would've heard of him before his death, I mean, you hear talk of the oldest living folks, and I'm sure I would've remembered Huey. Just a bit late, but my hat's off to you, Mr. Long.

Woke Up This Morning, Lucille Was Out Of Sight

2009-06-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

When something gets under my skin, I just can't seem to get the correct salve to take away the pain. And sometimes that pain hurts so good.

That's the deal with Lucille.

I'm talkin' 'bout Lucille Cataldo, whose 1984 clip from the New York public access program "Stairway To Stardom" is way under my skin. And much like the cute animated phlegm in the medicine commercial, she isn't planning to leave anytime soon. Lucille, replete in Angie Bowie drag, sings her own composition, "Hairdresser" on a clip I watch over & over, and checking the interweb, so do a lot of other people with time on their hands.

Check it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QdJwcKFDo3o&feature=channel_page

I sing this song all day long. I can't wait to get in front of a computer screen so I can watch it. Over & over again. Like Brett Michaels getting flattened on the Tonys (just can't get enough, that shit better win an emmy).

Here's how I found this: WFMU played the audio track, and that particular show's online playlist gave a link to the video. That's all it took.

With each viewing, I find little nuances that just put me into hysterics. I can't tell you what they are, my mind is not wired like most humans. I wanna start up my old band again just so I can do a cover of this song - in this key - with all the same vocal inflections.

If you listen to this song - I mean, really listen - her lyrics are quite clever. It's like a laundry list of salonisms. Or maybe not.

Watch it. Watch it again. Go back to it tomorrow.

There's an entire page of clips from Stairway To Stardom:

http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=sharpeworld&view=videos

Find the one where the kid sings "Wash That Man..." holding a photo of my nephew Dan; or the rapper singing "Crackhead"with his afro sticking out the era hole of his ski mask.

But wait: there's more.

I was gonna wait for another post to tell you about this new find. Her name is Icy Spicy Leoncie. And she is super-groovy.

Here are my two favorites. First off is "Man! Let's Have Fun!":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gyptl-BQNBk&feature=channel_page

Then "Sex Crazy Cop":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G35vnbsAoYs&feature=channel_page

Also she has a CD out called "Radio Rapist-Wrestler". http://cdbaby.com/cd/leoncie

I'm gettin' it.

Leisure Means Work

2009-06-09T23:47:00.000-07:00

Throughout my tenure in the workforce, especially in recent years when I've accumulated a nice parcel of vacation time per annum, I would frequently wonder what it would be like to take all my vacation at once, say in the summer months. Then I'd come to my senses realizing all of my incidental time would be gone. Then what would I do when I'm hung over from the previous night's shot-downing marathon or maybe at xmastime when I'd like to enjoy the unparalleled glittering festiveness the season brings.

This year is the test.

I'll be off work from mid-July to mid-September due to a much-publicized foot surgery. While not quite an entire summer, it's pretty dang close. And it's the longest warm-weather break I've had since 1976.

I've enjoyed buying up cult & b-movie collections on Amazon, and stacking the books I have ready to read, but there's another side to this coppertone-scented coin.

Real-world preparation.

I have someone coming in to paint at the end of July. I have to strip the room, 35x22, of all the wall hangings, the knick-knacks, the ephemera as it were, before my leave. Believe me, that is one major chore.

My wife is also scheduled for surgery next week, and I'll be her "Hazel" until it's my time. So I have to try & figure out how to cook. I thought I knew, but I'll be cooking for a pro, so manwich ain't gonna cut it. Luckily we're near a lot of places that have curb service.

I had been wondering how I was going to tune in to my regular scheduled radio programs (they're all web-based - for me, anyway), but my wife's laptop has a wireless network card so I can stay current with Dave The Spazz & Fool's Paradise & Rodney On The Roq & Breakfast With The Beatles etc. What a relief. And if you know me, that was a real concern of mine.

I also need a surplus of bourbon & cigars. No, this isn't ridiculous. It's summer! And I have to pull up hundreds of cds from the basement due to the fact that I won't be able to climb the stairs.

And I've got a month to cruise the streets with Mozella. Then it's back on the hooks for another year.

And what about this blog? And what about my farm on Facebook?

So yeah, I'm off for the summer, but it's got it's price.

Next time? THERE'LL BE NO NEXT TIME!!!!

2009-06-04T21:16:00.000-07:00

One of the hippest, wildest, swinginest, rockinest cats EVER has cut out.

Sam Butera, longtime foil for Louis Prima and bandleader of The Witnesses, the greatest lounge band ever, died June 3 at the age of 81. That's Sam pictured above with the band, in the white cardigan blowin' sax, with Louis Prima & his trumpet on his left. That's either Jimmy "Little Red" Blount or Lou Sino on 'bone. Looks like a redhead, so maybe it's Jimmy. But he doesn't look too little.

Sam was from Nawlins, and true to form he rocked like a motherf#%&er. He was a killer sax player & his vocals displayed that black vibe that surely came natural coming up in Nawlins like he did. His band was ALWAYS tops, and Sam was as great a musician as any of those classic cats who walked through the doors of Cosimo's studio on the corner of Rampart & Dumaine.

As time went on, he became less known for his Nawlins thing and more for his Vegas thing. At one time he & Prima were the biggest attraction in Vegas, drawing huge crowds at the Sands and Sahara, and that crowd was frequently packed with stars. You should check out those old recordings; that band truly rocked.

Almost a year ago, July 5 2008 to be exact, WFMU's Michael Shelley interviewed Sam on his radio program - you can hear that right here http://www.wfmu.org/playlists/SH

Sam was audibly moved that people still cared about him as much as they do. He had nothing but praise for Prima & was gracious throughout.

I am very fortunate to have his autograph hanging on my wall of fame. My sister got it for me in Vegas, of course.

By the way: the title of this post refers to Young Jesse's hit "Next Time". It became Sam 's spotlight tune in his live sets, first with Prima and then on his own with The Witnesses and his most recent band, The Wildest.

Funny thing: not too long ago I was thinking how great it is that Sam was still around, since it seemed like all my unsung heroes of r&b were merging with the universe at an alarming rate, especially the Nawlins cats.

What more can I say? Louis & Sam, back together again. The wildest.

Gonna Pitch A Wang Dang Doodle All Night Long

2009-06-04T01:36:00.001-07:00

They called her "Queen Of The Blues". Yeah, her and how many others? (remember Dinah Washington? Her I'd believe)

Koko Taylor died this week at 80 years of age. She found fame in Chicago at Chess records, where she landed a contract thanks to Willie Dixon. He saw her perform live on the south side & that was enough for him. He penned her biggest hit "Wang Dang Doodle", a million seller.

After Chess was sold like so many other independents, she left for blues label Alligator Records, where she stayed until her death. She won so many awards that I can't be bothered listing them.

But, notably, she had a role in Blues Brothers 2000.

She did the festival circuit like so many other bluesies, but right up until the end they dug her the most in Chi-town.

In 2008, the IRS determined she owed them $400,000. Guess the joke's on them.

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

2009-06-02T00:39:00.000-07:00

I must be honest with you all out there (all 2, maybe 3 of you) and say that I had the best weekend I've had in a long, long time. No cynicism, no bitching, no smarmy comments. It was Fabtastic.

I went to a wedding on Friday, and the bride looked like what would appear if Tinkerbell was getting hitched. Cute, petite, blond & did I say cute? Yeah, well she certainly gained points with me when I noticed the guest favors were NOT jordan almonds, NOT bubbles, but a shot glass with the wedding date printed on it - which also happens to be my birthday!! It turns out the bride & a lot of her female family members like to drink Lemon Drops, which are some vodka/seven up concoction that taste not too much like booze. But I pulled a fast one, because those shotglasses also work with bourbon. And if that weren't enough, you could smoke in the hall! Party Time!! And they gave me a special birthday cake & played - what else - Beatles Birthday. And everything I wore looked great - for an old fat man.

Then on Saturday, I celebrated my birthday in my own home, barefoot, relaxed, with my head up my ass and again with the bourbon & cigars. Also my favorite ice cream cake! But also my very special guest My Grandson, who can have anything on earth he wants. In total, my eight kids/stepkids/grandkid. Fun! Laughs! Food! Booze! Gifts!

Sunday's bill of fare took a very low-key route. Booze- and smoke-free with of course a lunch at Five Guys.

Yep, summer is off to a pretty good start.

Ain't no cure

2009-05-25T20:47:00.000-07:00

Well, it's officially here. Not technically here, but officially. "Socially" officially. Like yes you can wear white clothes official. Last weekend I planted, mulched, fertilized, assembled, laddered, and at the end of each day I was so beat & my ground pads were in such misery that I never ended up doing what I really wanted to do over the weekend: plant myself in front of a mixer with two cd players with a pair of headphones, some smokes & a jockey of bourbon for a couple hours. I had the opportunity, but for some reason sleep seemed nicer, laying on my back with the breeze flowing overhead.

Ah, Summer.

My bike, which I've christened Mozella (aka Bloody Mama), was totally ignored. She sat there & looked at me as I repeatedly passed her, rakes and brooms and hoses and trash bags and plant food in hand and ... well, you get the idea.

But this coming weekend will be different. It's my birthday.

Something will happen which I will regret, I'm quite sure. My mouth's brain (and my brain's mouth) is too carefree - until it's too late, then responsibility hits. Hard.

F#%k it. It's been the same way since I've had a conscience and a memory. You can't teach an old dawg new tricks. Get your own birthday.

Meeting The Devil At The Crossroads

2009-05-22T01:35:00.000-07:00

I was reading an interview with Jarvis Cocker, and he thinks, as do I once I sit & capitulate, that it's odd how blues has become the middle class middle-aged guy's music of choice. Especially since it's the sound of black slaves dealing with their "situation".

White guys, like me, with an adequate job & some sort of normalcy in their lives - wife, kids, mortgage, multiple TVs & cars - digging - playing - de blooze. They remember with fondness their youth: Cream, Fleetwood Mac (UK version, not Cali cokehead version), Savoy Brown - wait, aren't these all from the UK, where the working class is truly lowdown & the caste system is still in full effect today? Wait, I'm not done: Canned Heat, Paul Butterfield, Johnny Winter (talk about white). All those guys got their data from those first- and second-generation American negroes. Today's blooze fan doesn't know Son House from Dr. Gregory House.

(OK - this is not really another one of my posts showing how people are root-ignorant; that's not what this post started out to be. People certainly don't have to be down on their luck to dig the blues. As always, it's nice when the originators get credit.)

Later this summer if all goes well with a foot surgery scheduled for July I'm supposed to go to an outdoor blues concert featuring blues giant B.B. King and Robert Cray - neither of whom I like. But here's something interesting: B. B. goes back 60 years. He's a contemporary of most of the blues cats I listen to, and normally that would be good enough for me, but B. B.'s so ... Jerry Lewis Telethon. He's up there singin' & playin' the blues (however not at the same time) in a sparkly tux that would make Marc Bolan envious. Shit, he's loaded, and I don't expect him to wear one-strapped overalls, but he's just too damn slick for my liking. His blues has morphed into the Vegas Blues. Not so strange then that I don't get any soul from him. The reality is he transcended all his down home funk & he's not gonna front. Normally I would consider that great. But his Quincy Jones-type shit just doesn't happen for me. And Robert Cray is truly an exceptional artist, but that experience for me is like listening to your college suitemate play a gig on the diag. As some bald-domed cat once said, it is puzzlement. Personally I don't wanna live a destitute life, bad luck & trouble followin' me wherever I go, but psychologically that's what I expect from my blues artists (if they're British, of course, then all I expect is delta influences & bad teeth). Different strokes, is all I'm sayin'. And as usual, my favorite strokers are dead.

If my demographic is blues's ideal audience, then so be it. My peers could have chosen young country over blues. Most black folk don't dig the blues because it reminds them of bad times. Me and my peeps can't relate, we just wanna look over yonder wall and dust our broom, bottles in hand: one cheap whisky, one Purell.

Waiting For The Man

2009-05-19T23:03:00.000-07:00

Summer's comin' on like a pimple on my ass in May (go figure). And I know that in recent months my posts have been less than stellar, and not very interesting to say the least. But before I go any further, I must say that I warned you about that. I think it's in my blog heading. But these recent posts have even bored me. I'm phonin' it in, folks. I went back in the post archives, to last summer, for inspiration. All I had to do was read one of them & I could feel the difference between then & now.

Can I credit that to any of the crap that's happening to the world nowadays? I mean, gas is back up to 2.50 a gallon. No one has a job. Therefore, no one has any money. I have both, but not a lot of the latter. And I'm waitin' to be inspired.

I can get inspired by the writings of Michael Musto and Kinky Friedman, or the paintings of Miro and John Currin, and I used to think the diatribes of Lester Bangs. Recently I've been reading a collection of Bangs' articles, called Psychotic Reactions & Carburetor Dung, and now I consider him juvenile, stupid & just plain boring. Everyone in pop journalism pisses themselves over his stuff. Bangs this, Bangs that. He was just the first to write as if he didn't care about anything, as if Leave It To Beaver or bologna was more important than whatever he was supposed to write about. Just the first, like Presley in his field (I don't like him, either).

But he inspired people, I guess. Me included. And now there are smart-assed journalists the world over that make his writings wither on the vine.

I used to wonder if I didn't like certain writers or painters or artists because I was too simple minded to understand what they're doing. Now I'm comfortable with the realization that they don't move me, man. I mean, I may still be simple minded, but I'm cool with that.

No sacred cows.

Someone told me don't be a hater. I say don't be a lover. There's a lot of shit, and I do mean shit, out there. There's a lot of great stuff out there, too, except you gotta hunt it down. Most people can't be bothered. They settle, or they decide it's not important. Books, films, music (especially music), et al. If you dig it, go for quality. My main man Tom was great for that. You'd try to hip him to something, & he'd just say "oh yeah? so?" I loved it, and it infuriated me. But it kept me real.

So what this boils down to is this: while the summer of my 11th & 12th year are quite memorable to me, and I find myself replaying those memories in my head every solstice, the reality is once you've shared that with someone, it becomes irrelevant. Do you wanna hear someone else's old stories over & over? No. So I won't bore you with mine. Because the vibe won't be the same.

T Shirts Cutoffs & A Pair Of Thongs

2009-05-18T23:50:00.000-07:00

I can't wait for summer to get here. Psychologically it's already landed & set up shop in my head. Ice cream trucks, lawn sprinklers in the afternoons (which is bad, because mornings is the ideal time for that activity but who's up at those hours unless you haven't gone to bed yet), beach party and love boat flicks.

And of course a perfect soundtrack.

My iPod has undergone a summer makeover. Gone is most of the current pop & rock stuff. Also gone is most of the jazz stuff. We're promoting a light, breezy and very organic mood here. So we're left with a lot of sixties "AM Gold" stuff, but nothing too flaky. Mostly seldom-heard gems that evoke fun, sun and , y'know, kinda the whole beach vibe. The kind of music that once was, or should've been, all over the radio dial. Perfect for riding one's bike under a periwinkle sky.

However, there's still a LOT of soul, r&b, jump blues, rockabilly and of course The Fall and Zimmy on that thing. I mean, I'll be listening at night, too.

I'm looking forward to that point of the season where memories of my favorite summers take full flight - 1964, 1965. That'll probably come with pain killers in July. Or you could just check last summer's archive posts.

It's just like that Belle & Sebastian song: "get out of the office & into the sunshine". Enjoy your Memorial Day weekend. Throw away your socks. Switch over to mojitos or VTs. Summer's such a gas.

My Pal Foot-Foot

2009-05-15T03:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I haven't been posting as frequently as usual. Blame it on facebook.

I get an email every time someone who is my "friend" makes a comment on ANYONE'S facebook page. Also whenever anyone makes a comment on MY page. Also whenever someone wants me to work on their farm. Or when they want to send me a gift for my farm.

It's exhausting.

And I know, I know, I said so many negative things about facebook in the past - see, I don't even capitalize it. I still feel negatively about it. But it gives me the opportunity to say a bunch of stupid fictitious stuff about anything at all. Like the lists of five. Five favorite toys from your childhood, five favorite beers, five cars you owned, stuff like that. And of course I always lie to make the outcome funny - or at least my idea of funny. Unless it's something that I want people to actually know that I dig. And how are they supposed to know which stuff is facetious and which stuff is true? I don't know; I don't care. BUT - my audience is much bigger than my blog audience. Hell, I may as well just write emails instead of do this stupid page.

But in about 8 weeks, I'll be off all of this for, well, about 8 weeks.

Foot surgery will have me laid up, totally off my feet. I always wanted to know what it would be like to take all my vacation in one piece in the summer. Guess I'll find out. My estimate is that I'll be out of work from mid-July to mid-September.

I'll be having triple arthrodesis surgery. They'll fuse the 3 major bones in my foot together, bone-on-bone, and screw them all in place. This is big stuff, according to my dr, my wife's dr, and much of what I read on the web.

I'm starting to think about my video consumption for that time frame. Also refining my iPod content. Also, I need to stock up on booze & cigars.

El Porko Mal-something

2009-05-05T00:01:00.001-07:00

It's finally here - Cinco de Mayo. Andale'! Arribba!

Cue the low groan.

So patient zero is a five-year-old boy. What would they do if he were an animal? Like Barney Fife would say, nip it in the bud.

And now some people are saying, "do you know how many people die from unswine flu? blah blah blah?" Don't they understand we need this kind of fear? It gives us something to hate.

No, but really, what do you do with this kid? Do you punish his parents? Is he just relegated to the pile of sad-newsworthy saps stinking in the corner like Octomom, Michael Phelps, Joe DePlummer and Vince Shamwow? I smell reality show!

I had Mexican food last friday. My throat hurts a little & I keep blowing my nose. Hopefully my boss is reading this; I won't be in tomorrow. Oink .. uh-oh, what was that?

You need to know: after one week, Bob Dylan is still on the stereo. He'll move to the iPod in a couple days. Whadda yarn spinner. Woody Guthrie mixed with Will Rogers filtered through Raymond Chandler marinated in Jack Kerouac. You gotta understand him. He's simple but always, as the kids say, right on.

Don't forget to call your mother this weekend. Unless your estranged. Then screw it.

Nothing

2009-04-28T23:56:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you all out there are just relieved that this new post pushes ol' Bearthur's maudes out of the way. By the by, that artwork puts me in mind ofn one of my favorite artists, John Currin

( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Currin ).

WFMU's hour of soul single sensation, Downtown Soulville, plays every friday evening. Check out the archives, especially the March 13 marathon edition where numerous Detroit references are made (host Mr Finewine hails from Mo-wood), or his great Eddie Bo tribute ( http://www.wfmu.org/playlists/shows/30851 ). Weird to hear a New York show mention the Red Coat Tavern in Royal Oak.

Bob Dylan has done it once more with Together Through Life. I read something the other day where they still referred to him as a "folk singer". Jeez, how long does it take? Then again, I guess a case could be made that a folk singer is exactly what he is. He pulls in heavy influences from the country, blues, standards and yes I guess even the folk genres. IMHO He is our most gifted musical storyteller, with an uncanny economy of language and an adequately entertaining style. And his band ain't too bad either. But in ranking his latest group of "raggedy old codger albums", I'd have to rank this one 3rd out of 4. But it's still much better than Neil Young's latest. That guy hasn't made a solid album since he laid Crazy Horse off (although his "I Hate George Bush" lp was pretty fine).

Y'know what's annoying about Facebook, aside from the obvious? The hundreds of e-mails I get alerting me to every comment made against my own comments, and the comments made by my "friends", and comments made by their friends. What the f#%k do I care what someone said to one of my "friends"? It just brings out the ol' prickeroo in me. Then I start getting salty. Like I lie in the "pick your five ". I never really met Edwin Meese. I wouldn't watch The Breakfast Club over & over again. I wouldn't want Liberace on my side in a bar fight. Wait, yes I would. And I told a friend's daughter to sleep with the Dean to get into a certain University. I'm just really sick & tired of it. Except my nephew just joined, and I think he's a pretty good candidate for smart-ass ombudsman. Except he seems pretty sincere in his postings. At least when he's talking about his dead goose.

I sent an electronic facebook message to my ex-wife's uncle, who just celebrated his 25th wedding anniversary. Now I get a message that it's his birthday. I can't take it anymore.

I never had so many friends. I'm a regular Bill W!!

Notes From The Overground

2009-04-27T00:27:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd shart off some miscellaneous tidbits of news since we last gathered:

Colonoscopy: Big news - I am no longer a probe virgin. Also I am polyp-free. Now. I have the pictures to prove it.

Did you know (no you di-int): apparently African sixties garage bands sound like American garage bands, i.e. there is no ebonically-tinged dialect to be found. This is evidenced from the collection "Cazumbi: African Sixties Garage Vol 1". Nope, not even a hint of Beyonce-speak as in "Please tsell me what tsahm it is."

And speaking of that attractive talentless young thing, I would have much more respect and appreciation for her if she actually sounded like the YouTube clip from the Today show making the rounds. I won't provide a link, but it's not hard to find andyou really must check it out. I could hardly contain myself. You'll L-O-L!!

Maude is dead! That's right, Bea Arthur has gone to that great pastel-decorated lanai in the sky. There is a burning question I could never get answered. No one ever broached the subject on the interweb: in Maude, back in the 70s, Bea Arthur was rather zaftig, not obese or anything, but she definitely had an ass & was very amply bosomed. But in Golden Girls, she's as flat as the man her voice hints at. That cannot simply be a result of dumping a few pounds. She should still retain some tittage I would think. So what then, a breast reduction? Double mastectomy? A sapphic-friendly tape-down? Friends of Dorothy (ha) need to know!

Sound alert: an e-mail from Skyroo online ordering sez that my pre-release order of Bob Dylan's Together Through Life has been shipped. Will I get it before the world-wide release date of Tuesday? I paid extra to get it post-haste, pronto and asap!

At this year's TriBeCa film fest you can be among the first to see Woody Allen's new film starring Larry David! The role he was destined to play? Maybe! And in more L. D. news, the cast of Shinefeld (that's how my mother pronounced it) will be featured in the new season of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Looks like I'll be subscribing to HBO again for awhile.

Notes from the silver screen: Speaking of the pisher formerly known as the Woodman, I also saw Vickie Christina Barcelona this weekend. Pfeh. Also saw Seven Pounds. At the end I was ready for suicide. And a friend gave me a copy of Cadillac Records. I hear Beyonce isn't tsoo good in that, either. Impossible!

Back To Vinyl

2009-04-19T20:53:00.000-07:00

I am a happy obsessive. I went to Record Time for the 2nd Annual International Record Store Day and it appeared to be a rousing success. At least for proprietor Mike Himes, can't vouch for other jam emporiums. Mike said pretty early on all those specially released 7" singles put out by all those vinyl-sympathetic artists were sold out. Great news!

As soon as I walked through the door I picked up the new Neil Young CD, he's kinda bitchin' about stuff per usual but it really - how do the kids say it - rocks. Also picked up two (two!!) CDs by Mister Ernie K-Doe, an anthology of singles from the infamous A2 record label (that's A-Square, as in Ann Arbor) except glaring in it's absence is anything by The Rationals (licensing, I'm figuring), the new CD by The Black Lips and I think another one I can't remember.

Now the vinyl, that's where the real gems came in. A big stack of singles including ? And The Mysterians doing Tommy James' "Do Something To Me", an original release of "Last Nite" by The Mar-Keys on Satellite (that's before they changed their name to STAX), "Love Power" by The Sandpebbles, "Treat Her Right" by Roy Head (did you check out those You Tube clips?!!??)and much much more including one of the greatest mid-sixties soul records ever, "Give Me One More Chance" by Wilmer & The Dukes. I made my companion Per put headphones on & listen to it to prove it's greatness. And albums, well I got a "Dinah Washington Sings Bessie Smith", "Mose Allison Sings For Lovers", a Lambert Hendricks & Ross lp, a double lp Bebop comp, a New Orleans r&b comp, ... let's just say I'm not paying bills this month.

Let me jump back a second ... remember the last post where I said I never experienced a listening booth before? Well Record Time had three turntables set up with headphones to check your vinyl before you buy it. ALMOST a listening booth.

And I saw my sorta-kinda-not-quite-friend (because he doesn't really know who I am) Willy Wilson, the last great radio dj in Detroit.

And - remember a couple posts back when I was big upping East Lansing & mentioned their music shop Flat Black & Circular? Well I just found out Ra Ra Riot who put out one my favorite albums of 2009 (The Rhumb Line) did an in-store appearance! And all Record Time had was ME!!

So that was my day, an obsessive trip to the record shop. No more purchases. Until the Beatles Mono Box in September.

Supply Is Limited

2009-04-16T20:59:00.001-07:00

Saturday is Record Store Day, & I'm going to visit one of my old haunts, Record Time in Roseville. I've been going there since the 80s, and after all this time Mike Himes is still the owner. He's been written up & quoted in the UK press during all the Detroit garage action. Record Time was my favorite place for 12" singles in the suburbs. Mike's taste was similar to mine, so he was always referring stuff to me. Matthew Smith from Outrageous Cherry used to work there in the 80s. So did a number of the guys in The Witches. One of their best staffers whose name I can't remember dj'ed my niece's wedding. Another cat who worked there made up these cool WKNR Keener survey t-shirts which I never bought, and now I wish I would've. Kid Rock did some very early-day rapping gigs there, he was more wigger than the beer guzzlin' hick he portrays himself as today.

Back when I was a tot, you could buy records at barber shops in the hood. Also at "electronics" stores, where they sold TVs and radios and of course record players - that's where Brian Epstein worked when someone came in asking for a Beatles record. I never was in a shop that had "listening booths", but I always thought that was the coolest thing. At Record Time you can listen to CDs on boomboxes chained to a shelf as long as you give the clerk your keys or something like that. You could also buy records at "dime stores", the precursor to Kmart. My sister worked at one & that's how she built our singles collection. "Music liberation", similar to what I do today on the internet.

I bought records at an electronics store as late as 1970. I saw a yellow pages ad for some place in Ferndale. I called them & asked if they had this & that, which they did, so I hopped a bus over there & bought a stack of 1950s r&b. That night I also made my first trip to the Grande Ballroom and saw my first (and only) Who concert. That has no pertinent meaning, I thought I'd just throw that in.

Young people today don't get the importance of the Record Shop Experience. I wouldn't expect them to. But to go into a place where everyone's hanging out, listening to/talking about/obsessing over music, well, it's a beautiful thing. Amazon & eBay & all the rest make it so incredibly easy. You can sit in your drawers with a drink & a smoke (I love that analogy) & it doesn't get any easier than that. (Interesting fact: a good number of my on-line purchases have been vinyl) But the push & pull of an in-store scene makes it so ... I don't know, authentic? It's a sad reality that record shops' days are numbered. I don't see that reversing, either. I'm just glad I was able to experience it. You should too while you still have the chance.

Number One With A Bullet

2009-04-13T22:02:00.001-07:00

I knew it would happen. I didn't want it to, but I knew it needed to.

Phil Spector had a need to hide behind a gun. He was a short Jewish mama's boy. He had very bad hair back when hair was probably the most important thing. His musicians were defined by him yet ultimately surpassed him and led happier lives with their new boss Brian Wilson (another troubled genius who never had to point a gun at anyone). He had bad luck with women yet he coerced one of the most exotic and popular women in the business to marry him. He also had power, influence, money. And a gun collection.

He made a million dollars before his 21st birthday. Not an extraordinary thing nowadays, but this was the end of the 50s. He learned from the masters at Atlantic records, studying all those big city r&b and pre-soul records. He learned and certainly surpassed his teachers. He hung with and befriended the young Stones on their first US visit. A few years later he would find kindred spirits in The Beatles and would be forever linked with their worst album, and yet have success with numerous solo Beatle releases. He played a cameo in Easy Rider as a cocaine dealer with no lines (no pun intended). He was here, he was there. He was everywhere, baby.

No one will be able to think of Phil Spector anymore without the stupid wigs and his murder trial. Hopefully that won't overshadow his hits - those massive, fantastic little 7" records, never to be paralleled - but the two pieces will forever be linked.

Stacks Of Wax

2009-04-10T23:53:00.000-07:00

Lookout! It's happening again next Saturday April 18: INTERNATIONAL RECORD STORE DAY !!!!

I didn't think it would go past the first one, but it did! But I know better this time. Not accepting any free subscriptions to Paste Magazine, to be sure (looked at maybe the first 2 issues, never even opened the accompanying CD - this magazine is truly dire). Also I will refrain from asking store clerks for assistance, because unless I'm looking for Animal Collective (which I'm not) or Butch Walker (ditto - sorry Tom) I can figure it out on my own. (in all fairness, I already have Animal Collective - just haven't listened to it yet. Is it anything like Paste?) So, I guess I'll be expanding the back catalog, as usual. But nothing too exotic - Fela or Sleepy LaBeef are never in the racks.

A lot of bands (lot is a relative term) are releasing limited run vinyl singles & eps for this occasion. That's futile of course, but I appreciate the effort. We gotta do whatever we can to keep music stores alive & open. Things point to their total demise, and the prominence of bands releasing exclusive stuff via "Rock Band" is growing at an alarming rate. And people eagerly wait for it, and some make the argument that the quality therein is better than any other media. Think that's an overstatement? You'd be wrong.

I could go on ad nauseum, but everyone has their own viewpoint. Just get out next weekend & buy a CD - and not from Best Buy. Please.

Green Still Goin' Strong

2009-04-06T21:58:00.000-07:00

The Spartans of East Lansing went all the way there. They made it past the bouncers, they got to the stage, but in the end they got the gong. But they went farther than everyone else.

I have some good memories of East Lansing. My dear friend Keith used to, ahem, go to school there in '73-'75, or '76. He lived a modified version of the punk lifestyle at MSU, so very cool at 19, 20, 21, when all that stuff was exploding around him. I remember going for a visit, prowling the halls of various dorms, swigging from whiskey bottles like we were Johnny Rotten. One time I distinctly remember passing the closed doors of some auditorium, asking who was that singing on stage. "That's Loudon Wainwright III" (Rufus' dad, y'know) I cracked open the door & remarked. "he ain't too 'Loud', is he?" My g-g-g-generation, what can I say.

Some of my ex-in-laws lived up there, still do, and there were plenty of great memories with those folks. My daughter graduated from MSU what seems like a hundred years ago, now that she's a wife and mother.

I saw The Stones in 1994 when Spartan Stadium was just remodelled, or just re-somethinged. I remember some decent record shops, like Flat Black & Circular. And then there was Dooley's, a bar big enough to throw the biggest party in town, and of course Beggar's Banquet, the bar where someone wrote "leave the stones alone" on the wall outside. Someone would paint over it & it would always show up again. And Larry's Shop-Rite for great prices on booze. And the always questionable chocolate cheese from the campus dairy.

And then there was the bar whose name I can't remember, where The Ramones and Patti Smith played. Chances Are maybe? And the street musician King Swami. Maybe not so much street.

Anyway, a lot of memories that can wash away any defeat thrust upon that great city.

Coming In June

2009-04-05T22:16:00.000-07:00

The new Fall lp on Domino. Photo from show at KOKO, London, 4/1/09

A Song Late & Lotsa Dollars Short

2009-03-29T21:14:00.001-07:00

On "Breakfast With The Beatles" this weekend, host Chris Carter shared his experience about his first Paul McCartney concert, on the Wings 1976 tour. His experience was similar to mine, in that I also saw that same tour, it was also my first time (to date) and we both missed the first song.

My pal Keith & I had tickets for May 8 1976. I think I paid $5. My only other "Beatle" show was John & Yoko at the John Sinclair rally in Ann Arbor December 1971. He was in "busker" mode, with Abbey Hoffman, Jerry Rubin & street singer David Peel. It wasn't "rock", but it mixed music & politics just cool enough for me at that point in my life (that was $3).

So by 1976 my friends & I were becoming increasingly entrenched in the punk rock ethos: OK, we got music here, and that was almost incidental to whether or not we could get a drink, & of course we were done inconveniencing ourselves in a damn stadium like cattle. We acted like we didn't care. We were just "out" on a Saturday night.

So I never looked at the tickets, and assumed starting time was 7:30. We went out to do some preliminary "boozin'" and when we got to Olympia Stadium we found a great parking place right across the street. So we're walkin' across and I hear music coming from the building & it sure sounds like "Venus & Mars". Keith tells me to check the tickets & of course they say 7pm. I can still hear him say "nice one dummy" or something more akin to a boozed-up 22-year-old suburban punk (that's OK, he more than made up for this throughout the following years - like missing Jimmy Cliff due to pre-show boozin' again).

As nonplussed as we think we are about all this crap, we're both thinking "shit, we missed part of a Beatle performance". I can't remember if we knew how good our seats were before we walked inside - 15th row, main floor! AISLE! And no more than 10 feet from a coke machine (no booze served at concerts yet, but still it's liquid refreshments. I shoulda brought slippers). Anyway, we asked someone what we missed, and it turns out just the opening song, which runs into the one we came in on.

They were great - I guess. I can't remember any of it, really. Recently I saw a photo of Macca onstage with a Red Wings sticker on an old Epiphone guitar. Turns out a fan gave him that sticker on that date in 1976. And also, he wrote "Yesterday" on that guitar, & used it to sing the same on Sullivan.

Yeah, I was there, whatever. Can I get a Red Stripe & a double bourbon?

Re: Greta DeDay

2009-03-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

Regret. Is that a deadly sin? No, I don't think so. Is it a sin at all? No, I don't think so, but maybe it's an affliction. Some people say they have no regrets. How can that possibly be? I have a lifetime full of regrets. I regret most everything. I regret that last sentence.

I think that those who say they regret nothing (yeah, you, Edith Piaf) are fooling themselves. Everyone makes bad decisions. Maybe they aren't classified as regrets if you learn from them.

Do you believe that some people commit questionable acts just to get caught & obtain help? Not me. Wait, I regret typing that. Catch me. Help me.

What about guilt? Is that the same as regret? Because I've always said that I'm full of guilt, and maybe I'm not, maybe it's regret. Maybe I'm full of regret. Yeah, just maybe.

I've always thought people who are on the sunny side of a negative comment have a very easy time defacing themselves. F'rinstance, if you say someone's butt-ugly, and Catherine Deneuve says "oh, me too, I'm so hideous, my nose is like a toucan's beak". I mean, that's easy to admit, because it's not really true. And she knows someone will say get real, you're absolutely stunning. If no one responds to her ridiculous statement, maybe she herself would get real and just pipe down, thinking to herself "yeah, it must be horrible to be butt-ugly, glad it's not me - or is it? Why isn't anyone pro-ing my con? Nah, they're just in tune to the real deal, & now they're thinking how shallow I am". Then she'd have regrets. But she'd still be fine as hell.

Here's something you can do in the self-help area: if you have regrets about something and ... never mind, I forgot.

Hey, here's something fun: what would be the best drag queen name?

Crystal DeCantor
Rita Menu
Bertha DeBlues
Anna Rexia
Diana Cancer
Ida Slapter

Dixie Normous

Harry Balls

Sharon Needles

Rachel Tension

Marcia Dimes

Helena Handbasket

Lois Carmen Denominator

Any I missed?

Blocked Again?

2009-03-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

I have nothing to write about. Trust me, I've started many posts & deleted all their drafts. It's gotten to the point where my blatherings don't even interest me.

Well, I could tell you about the wonderful visit I had with my grandson this past weekend. What a little droolbox. I finally found a viable outlet for my excessive spending jones. I need nothing else; I'll just blow some cash on him.

This past weekend I also started watching reruns of Bachelor Father, with John Forsythe, Sammee Tong & Noreen Corcoran (older sister of Disney-ite Moochie Corcoran). A frequent character was a friend of Corcoran's character Kelly, Howard Meechim, played by Jimmy Boyd who coincidently died recently. He was also the kid who first saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus. So blame him if he messed up your childhood fantasy world. Plus, he married Yvonne Craig - Batgirl. That louse!

So I guess that's about it for now. Except watch this clip from Carson:

http://blog.wfmu.org/freeform/2009/03/ed-mcmahon-1923-to-any-day-now.html

"I'd Like To Hear Hamtramck Mama by The York Brothers..."

2009-03-11T20:43:00.000-07:00

Man, I am so confused by all the stuff on Facebook. OK, like can I customize the page? I want people to always see a link to my blog page. I want people to see the badge (just learnt that one) for donating to WFMU. And I want a big red arrow that points to all the pictures of my grandson. Maybe being part of the Facebook Army means no customization.

My son-in-law will be by next weekend. Maybe he can show me some crap. He's part Tron.

I think I mentioned this last year, but it's that time again: WFMU in Jersey is doing its once-a-year fundraising. I'm not saying pledge (although better radio you'll never find: Mr Finewine, Michael Shelley, Fools Paradise, Dave The Spazz) but I am saying I have an entertainment note for you: Friday Mar 13 from 8pm-11pm on the Pseu Braun show once again Yo La Tengo will be live in the studio attempting to play immediate requests from pledgers. You call, you pledge, you suggest a tune, YLT play it! This is one great experience. I have a CD of one of their past efforts called Yo La Tengo Is Murdering The Classics. Extra-boss! Anyway, you should listen, but you gotta listen live, the YLT episodes are never archived, just go to WFMU's webpage

http://www.wfmu.org/

Once I widen my blog audience via my facebook page, and then once I con - I mean persuade them into checking out all the things I prescribe, I'll be on my way to - dare I say it? - world blog domination!

Great Googa Mooga Shooga Wooga!!

Sit On My Facebook

2009-03-10T01:18:00.000-07:00

You have f#%king got to be f#%king kidding me.

(moron) wants to be added as one of your friends.

what is (loser) doing right now?

(pathetic moron loser) wrote on someone's wall.

you may know (f#%king pathetic moron loser).

you must be friends to see (oh, I don't even care)'s full profile.

OK, OK, I gave it a shot. I logged onto facebook, entered personal info, spent a ridiculous amount of time entering my favorite music (I like The Fall, OK? There's nothing else you need to know.) I started responding to pop-up shit about "friends" - some people I didn't talk to in person when I saw them. And they're sending me e-mail!!! I got so f#%king disoriented I started clicking on everything, not realizing I can turn down their requests.

There's a list of people I can add as friends. And when I "x" them out, another one pops up in their place!! And I don't even know who they are!!!!

Oh you would've laughed your ass off if you saw me get so frustrated. I'm here for your amusement.

I can't be connected to a whole shitload of people at any given time. I don't know how you do it. When do you people masturbate??

I'll be back on it tomorrow, I'm sure. Wonder what (ran out of ideas) is doing right now?

You Can't Go Home Again Or Can You No Maybe Not Part. 6

2009-03-08T20:18:00.000-07:00

First, to answer a burning question: I don't read the obits everyday. Spending most of my waking hours in front of a frikkin' computer I see a lot of stuff; too bad none of it helps me in my day-to-day life. The stuff I come across is usually put out there by obsessives which whom I share some pathetic commonality.

Now - all of a sudden I'm getting all these e-mails adding me as a friend / acknowledging my existence / sniggering at me in corners / tsk'ing ever so audibly regarding my recent enrollment to "Facebook".

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I only joined because my daughter said "if you ever want to see your grandson again, you better join because that's the only way you can obtain photos of him". So I did. And now she's dangling this carrot in front of me. Well guess what? They closed the expensive child store in my local niche-mall. So THERE.

I have no idea what facebook does. I have a feeling it's not like sleeveface, which is a shame.

I only joined this stupid world of blogging because of something similar; I can't even remember exactly what it was now, but it was something related to upcoming grandkid stuff. Now he's here & I have to join Upromise & Facebook.

What's next, Twitter?

This past weekend was my possibly last Hamtramck Blowout. How disappointing can it be when the best thing you see is The Polish Musllims? Gawd, it was hopeless. Although it may just be that I was in the wrong place at etc. First at Paychecks there was this band who came off as a poor copy of a Foals/Rapture/Joy Division tribute band. Except they sucked. I think they were called Red China, and everyone knows if you have a blue tablecloth, forget it. I even saw Troy Gregory from The Witches high-tail it out of there after a few minutes. So after that, it was on to Carbon which I've not been to before, and The Polish Musilms had all their fans there, and there are a lot of them because everyone goes to catholic church fund raising festivals. Honest to shit they were the best thing all night. And that includes The Detroit Cobras at K of C. You wanna talk about phoning it in? The most innovative thing about The Cobras was leader Rachel Nagy's stupid dye job that apparently required constant attention because she fiddled with the bangs throughout the entire set. And yeah, let's talk about that set. Now I know they're a covers band of a different stripe - like, they have to have never heard the song before to include it in their repertoire, as long as they found it on Motown or Fortune or Federal or some other R&B label. But after getting the chords correct there is nothing further they put into it. I was ready to make that long miserable trip back to the pad after 5 minutes. This was apparently what I was gearing up for all week. And I missed out on Pinkeye with John Sinclair (the band not the condition), because it just seemed to not quite fit (back to Paychecks for 15 minutes before The Cobras), and maybe that was my big mistake. I didn't even make the usual after hours scene at the Clock.

No, I'm not getting too old for the "new" kids. I find lots of great sounds coming out of today's music. But my thirst for a certain level of quality, or even irony, is in tact. What if Detroit's 2nd wind may now just be flatulence?

Speaking of which I did get some new underwear this weekend. So that was a plus.

Blowing Celestial

2009-03-05T20:36:00.000-08:00

Purgatory just keeps getting funkier & funkier. The funkiest queue in the cosmos, I would guess...

Two of Ray Charles' accomplices, David "Fathead" Newman & Hank Crawford, have split this mortal coil. They were big names in Jazz in their own right, but they got their start with Brother Ray. That's Hank on the left, Fathead on the right in the photo above.

Fathead died Jan 20 at the age of 75 from pancreatic cancer. He started with Ray in 1954 on Baritone Sax. He played with Herbie Mann for 10 years, and his first solo lp was called "Ray Charles Presents". Guess he wanted to be sure people paid attention. 'Tweren't no thing - he was a giant in his field. He released 38 albums as session leader.

Nine days later, here comes Hank Crawford, who was Ray's musical director for a spell. They met while Hank was fronting a rock & roll combo called Little Hank & The Rhythm Kings. He started on Baritone, switched to Alto & was the musical director of Ray's orchestra till 1963, when he started releasing albums with his own septet for Atlantic. Hank had a stroke awhile back & never got right.

Last minute info: I just found out that another of Ray's cats, Baritone saxman Leroy "Hog" Cooper died five days before Fathead, Jan 15. He played a gig that night; at 3am he died from congestive heart failure. In a non-Ray-related note, Hog played on Lowell Fulson's massive hit "Reconsider Baby".

So, three baritones, all affiliated with Ray Charles ... getting the band back together, Ray?

Grooves In Orbit

2009-03-04T20:04:00.000-08:00

Lyman Woodard has past. He was - still IS - one of the greatest jazz/funk/r&b/soul organists that put hands to Hammond, peds to pedals.

Back in the 70s he was a mainstay at Cobb's Corner on Wayne's campus, and he was always popping up at Baker's or numerous summer fests (that's him at the Comerica Taste Fest). He was bad.

I met his son last fall, and he told me how Lyman was always hanging out with John Sinclair, & how musicians were always very visible to him as a kid. I told him I owned one of his singles, "It's Your Thing" from 1969, and it was one of my prized possessions.

You need to check him out, and specifically that jam. Go here to Funky 16 Corners and listen.

http://funky16corners.wordpress.com/2009/03/01/lyman-woodard-rip/

No Muffaletta Sandwich For Me

2009-03-03T01:39:00.000-08:00

It's March & it's freezing here in Geektown aka Mo-wood, as Nat Morris used to say on The Scene. Not that it's unexpected, but we did have 60 degree days a week or so ago.

A partially planned trip to Nawlins for the Jazz & Heritage Festival is out. Everything is too damn expensive. Before I came to my senses about this kind of thing a northbound driving trip on Highway 1, a cruise and jaunts to Myrtle Beach, Savannah and New York were bandied about. I think the decision to stay home is best. For now.

Meanwhile, check out the best review of U2's latest right here (you won't be sorry):

http://thequietus.com/articles/01223-give-him-a-bono-and-he-ll-gnaw-it-mr-agreeable-reviews-u2

I can't remember what else I was going to say, so see you soon.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

2009-02-24T21:21:00.000-08:00

People, don't get too excited about things lest ye get ye olde letdown. Take it from me, I know from whence I speak.

Prez (no, not Lester Young, but maybe this one holds his horn sideways too if ya know what I mean) sez this 'n' that, all the people cheer madly and stand after each paragraph, and I'm referring to the address to congress televised Mardi Gras nite. They should just chill, and as their leader he shoulda told them just that. "OK, OK, just be cool. Siddown, let's get this over with & we can all have a li'l taste before Lent kicks in tomorrow!" His speech writer should be Lord Buckley, 'cept he's dead.

Yeah, everyone's excited 'n happy 'n all expectant. I'm tellin' ya, just be cool. And I'm not even your leader.

This all fits in with my post-xmas boredom package. Sort of an Anti-stimulus package, if you will. Nothin' moves me. Not bourbon, not The Fall, not pizza.

I'm not being fatal, I just don't expect anything to happen. I'm sure I'll find solace and joy in stuff again. Probably when I take my bike down from the rafters. A visit from my grandson might do the trick. Maybe if I lost 20 or so pounds.

Hell, maybe this is just what they call cabin fever. Yeah, but I was in Hawaii the end of October; and Florida a month ago.

I know what: piano lessons.

Maybe I just need a night of smoking and drinking all night long at a sleazy bar. Without spending a cent.

And a pedicure.

Fiyo On The Bayou

2009-02-23T21:37:00.000-08:00

Mardi Gras. Greasy Tuesday. Krewes. Red Indian Tribes. Spy Boys & Flag Boys. King Cakes (yeah, I already know, they're bad). Dubloons. And all the rest. And then it's over, and here comes Lent.

I've been kinda preparing for a trip to Nawlins, after Easter. Go during Mardi Gras? Who am I, Carson Daly?

The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival runs two weekends and is chock full of extraordinary international talent. That's kinda what I'm working around. But everything takes money. I've made it clear to my wife that I have some definite "do's" down there. I must go to Tipitina's. I must see Congo Square & Storyville. And I must visit the site of J&M Music Shop, behind which there was a little recording studio run by Cosimo Matassa where all of Little Richard's Specialty sides were created, along with so many other Nawlins legends that's another post in itself.

Oh, and I want a Gris-gris bag, complete with John The Conquerer Root (John The Conqueroo), Goofy Dust, and whatever else I need to cure all my ills.

I urge you to go online & read up on the Red Indians, and go to YouTube & check out the various second line videos.

GO !!

Chairman Of The Bored

2009-02-22T23:51:00.000-08:00

I just haven't been into "blogging" lately. I might even quit, because like I told you at the start of this blog adventure, there is nothing here that will interest anyone.

Maybe it's just the winter blahs. What makes them any different from spring summer or autumn blahs?

I've been listening to The Chess Records Story 1947-1975. So far, I've gotten to 1955. Hey, it's 10 cds, it takes awhile. As far as current stuff goes, I've been listening to "Get Guilty" by AC Newman from The New Pornographers. Quite disappointing, as was his last cd - but The New Porns are so great, I just don't get it. And then there's "The Crying Wall" by Antony & The Johnsons. My wife rather likes it, which is tres surprising. Me? Well, ... I may be over the soft quiet sensitive stuff, at least temporarily. Y'know, like Sigur Ros, Ray Lamontagne, Bjork ... just not interested right now. But make it some jumpin' r&b from Nawlins or down south or New York no later than 1956, and I'm gonna turn it up.

Leonard Cohen coming to my town in May. I might like to see that. Let's get past the 2009 Blowout & The Detroit Cobras first.

That might just bring me back.

Good Time Boy

2009-02-09T22:11:00.000-08:00

I swear I'm gonna change the title of this blog to "Who's Dead This Time?"

Well, this time it's Dewey Martin, drummer and the least (in)famous member of Buffalo Springfield. BUT - here's something he did that stood out: he gave Stephen Stills the LSD on which he wrote "For What It's Worth". I guess when Stills wrote "Stop/Hey, what's that sound?" The next line could've been "It's just the pills in your mind/Stupid".

Dewey at least looked the straightest of the bunch, though. He frequently sported groovy mod-tailored suits in a lot of the promo shots I've seen, while the rest of the Springfield went for buckskin, panchos and jeans. You can't blame that on his Canadian background, because weird reclusive bassist Bruce Palmer and Neil Young were also from Canada.

Maybe it's because he held a number of big time professional jobs before Buffalo Springfield. He drummed for Carl Perkins, Patsy Cline, The Everlys & Roy Orbison, among others. Kinda weird, since his one vocal spotlight was on the Springfield's 2nd and best album "Again", a big brassy soul ditty called "Good Time Boy".

After the breakup of the Springfield, Martin toured with a group called "The New Buffalo Springfield" - for only a minute, because he was sued by Stephen Stills & Neil Young.

Really Big Shew

2009-02-09T01:16:00.000-08:00

Spiritually I'm not old. Tick-tick-tick-wise one could argue otherwise. I wasn't aware I was old until my wife told me I was. Ha ha get her at 55 I'm the younger of the duo.

Now forty-five isn't old, age-wise, but what about when you're talking The Beatles first visit to America & their appearance on Ed Sullivan - 45 years ago. That's five less than fifty, which is half a hundred. The Beatles we're talking about here. Not Glenn Miller, not Elvis. Geez.

I remember the Friday they landed in New York, February 7, 1964. I had been home from school for a few days with some illness. One of my friends was trying to coax me to go back to school that Friday afternoon, but I stayed home by the radio (always hated school). They weren't touching down in Detroit, but local radio was all abuzz that day. When they came on the scene, suddenly there were all kinds of magazines with pictures, stories and interviews filled with Beatle stuff (this is where 16, Tiger Beat, Rolling Stone, Creem and a million others started). And there was all kindsa Beatle merchandise. And I wasted a lot of money on it, but I digress.

February 9, 1964. "The Big Bang". Before this, it was flaky crap like Dion and Neil Sedaka, or anonymous big city r&b from Atlantic, but haven't we been down this road before? Yeah, I thought so. What was it, last week we were commemorating their demise?

I don't remember actually watching that broadcast that night, except for during "Till There Was You" when they superimposed their names on the screen during their closeups, and Lennon's said "sorry girls he's married" - sounds lame now, but we were still in that steady date, high-school ring mentality.

On Monday, February 10, 1964, millions of kids started bands, or started guitar lessons, or started wearing their hair different, or just started paying attention.

Elvis lost it all. ALL of it. You can blame Uncle Sam, Tom Parker, or his dumbass hillbilly mindset. He had no choice but to step down, or get stepped on. And when did he do this? February 9, 1964.

Like I said last week, The Fabs ain't going anywhere. They've been here since 2/9/64, and we can't get rid of 'em. The music continues to evolve & technically it stopped 35 years ago. How's that grab ya?

Sci-Fi Death In 3-D

2009-02-05T23:00:00.000-08:00

On February 4, Lux Interior, vocalist for Psychobilly pioneers The Cramps, died from heart problems. They weren't necessarily my cup o' tea, but they were certainly original. And I guess I'd take them before a whole lot of others.

The Cramps were the first band that I can recall for which the term "Psychobilly" was used. Think Hasil Adkins, Gene Vincent, The Stooges, Surfin' Bird, Little Richard, Monsters, Louie Louie, Au-Go-Go, Ramones, Dolls, B-movies ... you get the idea. Unhinged and informed. Their biggest hits were "Bikini Girls With Machine Guns", "Can Your Pussy Do The Dog", "Goo Goo Muck" and Jack Scott's "The Way I Walk". Electric Psycho Rockabilly!

Formed in 1979, Lux sang while his wife of 37 years, Poison Ivy Rorschach, played guitar with a revolving door rhythm section that at one time included Norton Records founder Miriam Linna on drums. They did the CBGB "circuit" and never sold a lot of records, but were famous for intense shows. Their crowning moment probably came when they played Napa State Hospital to an audience of mental patients. There's a DVD, you can probably see some of it on YouTube, it's chilling yet brilliant.

I know I said they weren't necessarily my cup o' tea, but trying to define them here, they sound exactly like my cup o' tea! Not the only beverage in town, but I'll have an occasional sip.

Anyway, Lux was a true rock & roll maniac, which is a trait I like, and he had a long time wife, which I also like, and now he's dead, which means he's free of all the bullshit of the music business.

What are your likes/dislikes?

2009-02-02T00:50:00.000-08:00

The subject of this post is a little shirt that I originally thought came from 1977, Punk Year One, but after doing some investigating I found it came from November 1974 - the year & month I was first married. But anyway, here's the story, with timeline somewhat skewed (I'm not rewriting it, this preface will have to do)...

Back in 1977 - year one for punk - specific touchstones explicitly defined that era IF you were young (or not so much) and in tune with whatever was poised to kill off the crap of the day. At the heart of it for a minute was Vivienne Westwood and her "boyfriend" Malcolm McLaren who was the manager of it-boys Sex Pistols. McLaren & Westwood had a shop in Chelsea initially called Let It Rock, then SEX, then Seditionaries. They sold stuff, mainly odball clothes that became early punk uniforms: rubber trousers, mohair sweaters, the dreaded Doc Martens or brothel creepers. They produced some iconic t-shirts that were exclusively associated with that little storefront: the "Vive Le Rock" one, the cheesecloth "Destroy" bondage shirt that looked as if it would fall apart any second, and the rarest one of the bunch: a shirt that attempted to define punk the very moment it was designed, and then render it obsolete in quick time. Across the top was the statement "You're gonna wake up one morning and know which side of the bed you've been lying on!" Then just below, two columns, the bad stuff on the left, the good on the right, compiled by McLaren, his mate Gary Goldstein and Bernie Rhodes, who two years later would become manager of The Clash. You could either thumb your nose at, alter your disposition for, or if you were a true punk simply ignore, all or any of the above. The last choice being the wisest - who wants some boring old fart to specify what's cool & what isn't? EXCEPT this boring old fart was The Pistols' daddy & he and The Clash's manager say THIS is what's cool & what's not. The thing is, neither column specified which was the cool or uncool side. Genius!

What if you slept in the middle of the mattress?

for the contents of the shirt, check it:

http://www.hyenaproductions.com/index.asp?PageAction=Custom&ID=25

It Was 40 Years Ago Today ...

2009-01-29T23:49:00.000-08:00

As much as one might argue "so what", including me from time to time, we're celebrating the demise of The Beatles.

This weekend marks 40 years since all four of them played together in a live show configuration., I hesitate to call it a concert, but one could argue that that's exactly what it was, the difference being that most of the audience didn't know they were the audience.

So Jan 30: it had to be freezing, plus they were on the roof of an office building. They set their gear up in performance lineup mode, and played for about 40 minutes, augmented by Billy Preston on keyboards. One can imagine the underlying feelings - McCartney was hated by the other three who saw him as a megalomaniac, but in reality I think he was just trying to keep the brand (not a typo) alive. Lennon was itching to take his place as the uncontested freak king; Harrison was sick of fighting Lennon & McCartney for any bit of recognition - he didn't need this shit, his jamming buddies were Clapton & Winwood & Dylan & other cats with credibility who respected his playing, so obviously he had eyes to go solo. And Ringo may have only been the world's most famous drummer but he would soon surprise everyone by becoming a filmmaker and aligning himself with then #1 Glam Idol Marc Bolan.

So back to this - Harrison didn't want to do it at all. Lennon just wanted to do something, they were all there at 8am. The cops came in & stopped it like they always did when the neighbors complained about the band in the garage. Everyone presumably went home, and stayed home, after that. And then for a short period from July to August they went into a studio and cut their very last ever sides as a group for Abbey Road & called it a day.

So technically in August it'll be 40 years since their demise.

Personally, by this time I was off them. I had heard The San Fransisco Sound, British Blues, Hendrix, The Velvet Underground. "Yeah Yeah Yeah" was just lame.

Yet here we are 40 years later, still gathering every little trivial detail of their professional and private lives. From their first to last album (13 of 'em) it was only seven years. Nowadays it takes that long between two releases. And no one has been able to overshadow them. Many can sound more contemporary, more avant, more polished, more urgent, but forty years later The Fabs ain't going anywhere.

Adios, Motherf#&ker

2009-01-20T21:08:00.000-08:00

I'm sick of it all. Yeah, already. And I'm not ashamed to say it.

All this stuff I've been hearing on TV. On radio. Everywhere else. "It's a new day". "Things are gonna change". "Finally!".

Guess who all of that is referring to?

See, what if he's a douche? What if he doesn't fix your favorite problem quick enough, or ever? What if he does nothing at all, because it's just too overwhelming, and keeps his head down for 4 years, just so he can escape with a little bit of sanity & his family? Or what if he makes some really really bad decisions? Because all that's a possibility. Remember that friend or family member who you thought was so right on & then something happened & your opinion of them went all sour & negative? IT CAN HAPPEN.

Don't get me wrong. I don't want it to go bad, not at all. But I'm not gonna get all "oh, yay, praise Jesus, now we can breathe easily". I didn't feel that way back when the campaigns were happening. I just know what I DIDN'T want! I figured "give the brother some". Brother? The term "brother" doesn't exactly apply, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I mean, he's not exactly the Rocawear and Cokevoisier type, Thank God.

I do have faith in him. But it's almost like giving a guy a toothbrush & telling him to clean every toilet from sea to shining sea, by 5PM. I don't envy him. I empathise with him. I don't want his job.

Once again, one black guy has to be the spokesman for his entire race. (but guess what, he's like Jenny Willis on The Jeffersons, the one George called "The Zebra"). As it turns out, now he speaks for everyone else, including the redneck assholes and the psycho killers too.

Too many f#%king celebrities wetting their pants over this cat. I wouldn't take fashion tips from most of them. People who don't have the slightest idea - blacks voting for him because he's black, not knowing anything else about him (OJ anyone?). Although, in actuality, I guess that's no different than me voting for him because I was not gonna let another Bush cronie run my shit for another 4 years (because that's what McCain became once he got the nod). But that wasn't the only reason I voted for him, and I know it's unfair to assume no one else had that feeling.

So people are happy, and I'm glad. I can't dictate how people should react to all this history making. I thought the coverage of the various balls was a bit too close to watching an awards show. Again, this is me. The media sucks, celebrity sucks, inappropriate casualness sucks (like The Bidens at The Hometown Ball).

So to the new chief I say walk on brother, because obviously you wanted to, and you're smart enough to know that you have the worst job in the house right now, but you stand to gain the most.

SHOWTIME!

2009-01-12T22:53:00.000-08:00

I'm a sucker for crazy little things from my early years (not my 1st Izod shirt or my red jazz oxfords, tho). Certain things evoke a vibe, kinda like a cerebral taste or smell, if not a specific moment in time. Such is the case with ... er, Camelot.

Back in the mid 60s my cousin (whose siblings are the subject of a draft I've yet to publish; some things are best left on the cutting room floor) had the original Broadway cast lp, featuring Richard Burton, Julie Andrews & Robert Goulet. (yeah, & I had "Highway 61 Revisited") Anyway, he was painting some rooms in our house and brought this lp with him to play while he worked. I admit it grew on me, and apparently my mother too since she bought a copy. His younger brother, who was my age, used to know all the words to all the songs in that damn thing. And I wanted to, too, since occasionally it seemed better to be him than me (yes, I have issues). Well lo and behold, I memorized that bitch, including the Julie Andrews cuts. The Camelot Original Broadway Cast album became one of my life standards.

So last weekend I was scouting around my favorite download vehicle & found a site offering the complete original Broadway cast from 1960. I downloaded it, and when I opened up the master file, it contained two folders - Disc 1 & Disc 2 - wow! An expanded version?!? My excitement grew. I opened the Disk 1 folder - and there were the familiar track titles but also tracks entitled "dialog", and even more titles unfamiliar to me. Disk 2: more of the same! YOW! So as I loaded them onto my media player, It was like Indiana Jones finding the holy grail, or the guy at that flea market last year who found the studio acetate of 1st Velvet Underground album with alternate takes! For me it was that cool!

OK, OK, check this out: someone had recorded a complete overture-to-curtain call performance of the play from the audience! So this was one particular night at The Majestic Theatre on Broadway, sometime between December 3 1960 and January 5 1963 (873 performances!). I don't know who recorded it, or how they got it, but it's all there, all two hours-plus of it! The quality is pretty poor, but I can overlook that! From the very first strains of the Overture, which has a bit more punch than the cast album, it's an exciting sound. And what's more, you even hear audience reactions and applause! And of course, because the songs are being performed in front of a live audience you get slightly different vibes from the songs. Burton with his thick brogue, Goulet's voice booming like he didn't even need a mic. It was as if I were listening to something from a time before recording equipment existed. It's like the first bootleg album! Nowadays acts are playing entire albums in concert - it's kinda like what this is, even though it's a chicken/egg thing.

Anyway, if I memorize the dialog, I'll have one over on my cousin. Except I think he's got money.

No Fun

2009-01-06T20:38:00.000-08:00

Ron Asheton is dead. For those who don't know, he may have been solely responsible for giving a million guitarists who couldn't "play" but had scads of heart and soul the courage to get out there & do what needed to be done. How did he wield such power? Easy: he was The Stooges guitarist.

Ron was a rudimentary soloist in a time when rock guitarists were masturbating all over the fretboard. When everything else was peace & love, he was greasey & garage-y & full of Nazi memorabilia.

From jump street I was prepared to hate The Stooges. They were the "brother band" of the MC5, with whom at the time I was going through a nasty breakup (my aunt found the 5's lp, which I had lent my wiener cousin, and she went all Tipper Gore over it to my mother about its youth-corrupting properties, and I was banned from the stereo. Begrudgingly I inched towards safer rock & roll. How f#%king stupid was I?). So I figured here's more feedback-laden, out of control high energy noise, nothing like Clapton or The Airplane (yeah, no shit). Cut to a Saturday afternoon in the summer of 1969, & as I was getting in the shower, radio by the sink, WABX is featuring the first ever airplay of the 1st Stooges lp. First up: "No Fun". It was ... primal. Very basic, very rocking, handclaps & fuzzbox. Iggy's voice was the snottiest, most teenage voice I had heard at that point. The Stooges were dripping with "cool". I was too young to catch their shows at that point, but had heard and read all about them. I couldn't imagine their world, until that Saturday afternoon. Sold!

Initially I thought Ron Asheton, who was so not like Clapton or Jerry Garcia or those other counter-culture guitar heroes, played no better than the pork-brained guitarist in my first garage band. I was "going to school" daily on my generation's rock & roll at that time. At 15 I was trying to wrap my head around not only The Stooges & MC5, but also The Velvet Underground, Coltrane, Howlin' Wolf and Sun Ra. Thank God for WABX.

Wait, this is supposed to be about Ron Asheton, not me. OK. He and original Stooge bassist Dave Alexander went to England in the mid-60s and saw The Who - of which he said he had never seen such pandemonium. I guess that was it for him.

No Who, no Kinks, no ? & The Mysterians, no Velvets, no Hendrix: no Stooges; No Stooges: no Dolls, no Ramones, no Pistols, no Clash, no Fall, no Sonic Youth, no Jack White.

I saw Ron play four times. The first was 1971, just before The Stooges hooked up with Bowie. No plans for any new album at the time, I think the singer was "hurting" and they were about to go on hiatus. What I remember about that show is that Iggy spent the entire set on the floor in the audience & I never saw him. The next two times were in 1973, deep in the throes of glam-rock, the "Raw Power" years when Ron was pushed to playing bass to make room for sheet metal amphetamine guitarist James Williamson. Both '73 shows were famous ones: one was at the St Clair Shores Ice Arena, which was just outrageous because of the venue and the fact that I could literally reach out & touch the band, and they were stellar. The other was the (in)famous final show at the Michigan Palace, where the band were bottled off the stage by a biker gang. They never played again - until the 4th and final time I saw them - 30 years later at the 2003 reunion gig at Pine Knob, with Ron back on guitar. He looked old & fat, like your uncle who pulled out his guitar to rattle off the classic Stooge licks. But he was perfect, it was surreal, and they would go on to do the exact same show for four years, right down to what I originally thought were ad lib moments.

I hope he got some bread from these shows over the past five or so years. The post-reunion album sucked, but what can you do? 60-year-old Stooges can't write 20-year-old Stooges material and still be believable.

And heartbreakingly, The Stooges are being inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame this year. Well, they always did want to be someone's dog.

Calendar Boy

2009-01-01T21:40:00.000-08:00

OK, let's get back to our regular scheduled lives. Another day, another half-dollar. Little by little the crap TV shows are showing new episodes again. Certain life indicators get reset, like vacation days and authorized vision coverage. Year end lists should be just about over now. As for resolutions, who cares, they'll mostly be broken anyway. Live. Just live for life.

I was going to make an attempt to stop pointing out the significant deaths, but you can't control that. You can only control what you report. Like you don't need me to tell you Jet Travolta's dead, but I'm pretty sure you need to know jazz great Freddie Hubbard is.

I watched three absolutely horrible movies this weekend. The missus was sick, so it was x-chromosome-a-go-go at the video store. Do not watch these: The Women; Then She Found Me; Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day. I wish I liked thick-necked dude flicks or insipid gen-x crap because there is nothing out there for me, and there's no shortage of that. Actually, I'm satisfied watching The Ramones doc again for the umpteenth time.

I've been recording Bravo's Spectacle series hosted by Elvis Costello. He's a fairly decent interviewer, and of the episodes I've seen so far, Elton John has been the best - not really a surprise, he's a well known music fanatic, so he has an obsessive perspective on stuff. The Bill Clinton episode seemed too forced, he's smooth enough but there was an unnatural emphasis on music. You'da thought he was as obsessed as I am, and I know that can't be so. But to his credit, he acknowledged Trane, Stan Getz & Ray Brown, & admits to following off-the-beaten-path jazz. The worst: Lou Reed, who I'd truly like to punch out, and James Taylor, who apparently has never spoken in public before. I've yet to watch the Tony Bennett episode, who I'm sure has some ace stories, but I've seen him on TV before, and he also can't speak. If this is renewed for another season, they should try to round up Costello's past-collaborators as guests, McCartney & Burt Bacharach. Bowie'd probably be good, too. Or maybe the wife.

Also I've been catching Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour on Sirius/XM. I think this is fairly tight-scripted, but Zimmy does a pretty good job reading. He's funny, the facts are obscure enough, and the music choices are superb. The last show I heard he gave "his" meatball recipe after playing, of course, "One Meatball".

2009: more real-ism, more kicks, less shit. Sounds like a plan.

Wring Out The Auld

2008-12-25T20:35:00.000-08:00

YAY!!! IT'S OVER!!!! Away and begone with this season that was colored by a broken washing machine, outdoor lights problems, indoor lights problems (every f#%king light on the tree went out just 30 minutes before a houseful of people show up - I left 'em off), and the really discomforting fact that one third of my Xmas eve guests are gun carriers - and honestly I can only think of one of those people whom I would ever trust with a weapon (he killed a priest in his teenage years - his, not the priest's).

WHAT'D I GET??? I thought you'd never ask! I'll be accessorizing in style this winter with a fine assortment of gloves, scarves, slippers & sweaters. I got the two must-have books this season, Sleeveface and "John Lennon - The Life". And I got a robot, an exact (almost) replica of the one I had as a child. And this was unbeknownst to my wife! And it's named after me! No foolin'! And I got an iPod dock, so now everyone can hear the playlist that goes on in my head day & night. And some other stuff, too, but I'll stop here because space is at a premium.

One of the bright spots of this holiday season is that I got to spend time with my grandson, who, at 3 months of age, shows every inkling of becoming God, or at least the greatest guy on earth. His parents are kinda flaked-out, but I'll make sure he stays righteous.

So now, for those of you who are going out post-holiday shopping, here's my best-of 2008 list (in no particular order):

Vampire Weekend (my favorite of the year); Imperial Wax Solvent by The Fall; Antidotes by Foals; Partie Traumatic by Black Kids; Parallel Play by Sloan; Dig!!! Lazarus, Dig!!! by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds; Skeletal Lamping by of Montreal; I Was Raised On Matthew, Mark Luke & Laura by Pas/Cal; Ten Kens; Reality Check by The Teenagers; Workout Holiday by White Denim; Rip It Off by Times New Viking; The Stand-Ins by Okkervill River; Nouns by No Age; Tell Tale Signs by ol' Zimmy; and last but definitely not least: Beat Pyramid by These New Puritans.

I'll close this post with a tip of the sexy hat to Miss Earth Kitt, the Queen Diva who merged with the universe on Xmas Day. She was Catwoman in the 60's, had an affair with Orson Wells, was blacklisted, recorded some very sexy music, including "C'est Si Bon", "Cha Cha Heels" with Bronski Beat in the 80s, and of course "Santa Baby", which she hopefully dug this season. We'll miss you, Ms Thing.

Drinks are on George at Martini's

2008-12-22T22:07:00.000-08:00

Can it be? Is it really true? Yeah I guess so. Christmas is for all intents & purposes, over. Actually, it's not over until the 25th. So enjoy the next 48 hours - this is what we all waited for.

Last I checked (mon afternoon), QVC/HSN still guaranteed delivery in time for Xmas with an extra $5 shipping and only if you paid by credit card. Who's getting that fiver?

Here's what I've been experiencing: the traffic is f#%king horrendous, but inside the shops it ain't that bad. It's like everyone's decided to do the USA waste-o-rama twist because the gas prices went down. That's their Xmas present to themselves - an anxiety-riddled road trip!

Also - what the hell is wrong with women? I think I've seen more fur coats this season than in recent history. Might this be the last arrogant display of sore loser Bush supporters? These over-cosmeticized, heavily perfumed, drastically tinted and tipped old crows (young bimbos too) thumbing their hedonistic noses at the human rights cult? Watch both ways before crossing the street, honey. Unless these are just very expensive fakes. Nah, that would take too much research. Sorry, it's a sore point with me. (what isn't?)

I think we've reached full Fa-La-La-La Lifetime saturation in my house. I'm starting to see the same lame Xmas movies come on more than once. I've decided that I really don't like Candice Cameron anymore as an adult then when she & Kimmie Gibler hung out at the Cinnabon. OH - there's one with Patrick Swayze & I think it was filmed in Canada, and everyone in his family has that slightly plastic/out of time/foreign country look - I think it's like when all your buddies shave their heads in empathy with your lice problem.

All bitching and kvetching aside, I wish for you (all, like five of you, if there's that many out there) a fantastic holiday season, and let's work together in the new year to seriously get on the good foot. After all our bellyaching we can't f#%k this up.

Happy 65th Keef !!!

2008-12-18T20:42:00.001-08:00

. . . but eternally young at heart. Cheers, mate !

Not Quite Last Minute Xmas Gift Guide

2008-12-15T23:25:00.000-08:00

Let's not hyperventilate: it isn't time for LAST MINUTE gifts just yet. What you have to wait for is the day that QVC or HSN says your stuff will NOT arrive in time for Xmas with ANY type of uber-shipping plan. THEN it's time to get your azz down to the quickie mart & scarf up those Chia Homers (so 2006).

Of course, the biggest gift idea this year is a wonderful little coffee table book called Sleeveface. Have you gone here yet? http://www.sleeveface.com/ Have you perused your vinyl collection in preparation for your very own little Sleeveface photo shoot? Are you busy? You LIE!!!

Another must-have book is "Lennon: The Life" by Phillip Norman. This book got the nod and pertinent input from Yoko AND McCartney, and it gets down to the real nitty gritty. (He wanted Paul! And his own Mother !!!)

How about a MIMOBOT ( http://www.mimoco.com/shop/ ) for the geek in your life? It's a designer USB drive that's part Transformer, part R2D2, part something else made out of plastic. Tres "Tokyo" chic!!

For those who wanna buy low/sell high: Sirius stock closed at .14 today. They're going through tough times (who isn't) but they'll snap back. Of course, grab your grain of salt, I bought a million shares of Betamax last year.

Someone you know likes the rock & roll? Here's yer best bets for the year: Vampire Weekend, Pas/Cal, Of Montreal, Glasvegas, Belle & Sebastian At The BBC, Ten Kens, Foals, White Denim, Okkervill River, Dylan (hell, collect 'em all), The Fall (ditto).

Easy-as-pie can't-fail all-around favorite cop-outs: liquor, money, sexual favors.

Hope I've been helpful. Wassail On!!

How I Spent My Weekend

2008-12-15T00:06:00.000-08:00

Many things happened over the two day respite we call the weekend. It went like this: Escaped massive layoffs at work. participated in various phone related things, including new cell phone for me and the wife, new home phone number, five new phones for the new phone line. Completed my xmas shopping. Watched six xmas movies. Put my new Godzilla xmas ornament on the tree: perfect! TV service went out. Internet went out. Washing machine died. Resented numerous people for various reasons.

And man oh man, has here been a run on cemetery plots lately! Check out this list of recent obit column subjects: Robert Prosky, who was the old Hill St Blues cop (do it to them before they do it to you") and most recently a judge on Boston Legal; Beverly Garland, who played the newly minted wife with a precocious daughter on the last season of My Three Sons; Sunny Von Bulow, who's husband was tried for attempted murder (of HER!!); Ron Carey, who had bit roles in Mel Brooks movies & was the underachiever cop in Barney Miller; Van Johnson, he of old musical & non-musical films, and showed up from time to time on Love Boat; and, finally Miss Bettie Page - I thought she already was dead!

Consumer alert: I mentioned that I saw some xmas movies- well one was Steven Colbert's Christmas Special. I like him a lot, but here's where his over the top auto-consumerism schtick goes beyond clever: His xmas special aired just one night, and the next day it was released on dvd, never to be aired again. I thought his book (I Am America And So Can You) was brilliant. The special, however, was pure shit. I wasted $15. He should stick to reading lines behind a desk (which he does better than anybody else). The writers of this special (undoubtedly he was one of them) should get coal in their stocking. So anyway, don't buy it. You can borrow mine.

Hey, y'know what some of the best albums of the year were? You will soon enough.

Ride The Midnight Special

2008-12-07T23:54:00.000-08:00

Another great voice of the 20th century has moved on. Odetta died December 2 at the age of 77. She was one of the most important voices in the development of folk music, and in particular the musical education of Bob Dylan & Joan Baez. She studied opera at 13, then worked in Hollywood for The Hollywood Turnabout Puppet Theater with Elsa Lanchester. She acted on stage and in films. In 1974 she was in the acclaimed TV movie The Autobiography OF Miss Jane Pittman with Cicely Tyson. She was hooked up with the usual: Belafonte, Dr King, James Baldwin, Pete Seeger. Rosa Parks sited her songs as the ones that she was most fond of. One could've been the 1961 UK hit she had with Belafonte, "Hole In The Bucket". Her last husband was blues figure Louisiana Red. Odetta suffered from, among other things, Pulmonary Fibrosis. In her hospital room she had a poster of Barack Obama, and she had fought to stay alive because she believed she would sing at his inauguration.

Instead we'll get be entertained by Beyonce & Jay-Z, two slammin' niggaz that are doing their part for civil rights - setting it backward 50 years.

NOW You Know Why Cha Cha Heels!

2008-12-05T01:24:00.000-08:00

Just a quickie for the weekend: Here's the significance of last post's title (Cha Cha Heels!) Just dig this clip from You Tube. This just oozes Christmas Spirit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHHeGcD6o_E

Happy Holidays, y'all.

Cha Cha Heels!

2008-12-02T00:08:00.000-08:00

I have got to get it together.

No matter how hard I try, and to be perfectly honest I ain't been trying so hard up to this point, I can't seem to get into the spirit of the season. It's this lousy economy and just the overall vibe of the world. Flash: I have a conscience!

I have a grandson that I will spoil with millions of dollars worth of stuff he can't use with any level of longevity. But I'm not sure what to do about anyone else (save it, I'm not looking for opinions) (but get back to me before the weekend). I truly enjoy giving to people, because I believe that, if the bread holds out, those who can, should.

For the past few years I have seen to it that I personally have not gone without, and that's kinda what happens at my ripe old age, but to be honest it's at the point where it seems ridiculous. F'rinstance, I have a closetful of clothes, and I will probably not get back to half of them. Yeah, I know where they can be dropped off. I think I'll do that this weekend, actually. I've got to make sure my bar is always fully strapped, and then I go a step or two further & get something I personally would never drink, but maybe it would be nice to offer guests - y'know, the people that want a Bud Light or a rum & coke. And I have dozens of CDs that I have listened to just the one time to be sure I burned them correctly. Yeah, I have everything I'm "supposed" to have, but a lot of it leaves me cold, and once again I'm running out of storage space. And anyway, it's always back to Dub & Louis Jordan & The Fall.

In trying to reason with myself over this surplus of crap, I tell myself it's "comfort food" for all the loss I've experienced in the past few years. Y'know, how long am I gonna milk that bullshit? I'm still here. And life, given everything else, is grand. You're down, you're up, just tighten up your wig and keep pushing. A great dead guy I know once said any day this side of the dirt is a good day.

I think we need to get straight with this country for awhile. Maybe I need to start with me.

OK, soon as I get back from shopping Friday.

Let's Turkey Trot

2008-11-27T23:49:00.000-08:00

So here we are, at the beginning - legally - of the holiday season. And it's off to a non-roaring hesitant start.

Thanksgiving morning was spent watching the stupidly scripted and produced (yet supposedly wholly family oriented) pre-parade show on TV. I'm assuming this is so the youngest kiddies will be engrossed while the other family members over the age of 8 are busy googling or showering or cooking or decorating or drinking in the basement. OK, yeah I watched it, but I was doing so whilst I made breakfast for my wife, which is my weekend gift to her. Afterwards I worked on the outside Christmas lights. My wife thought it would only take an hour, but somehow I stretched it out to three point five. And can you please tell me what exists in this hyperkinetic world that transforms fully operational strands of lights to useless green cords as soon as everything is in place. As always, I escaped with an aching back & feet. BUT, as we all know, that leads to my favorite thing that begins with "V" that isn't Velvet Underground or Vampire Weekend: Vicodin.

Black Friday will be spent cleaning the castle in preparation for Saturday's holiday kickoff party - you know, the one for which more than half the guestlist has found better things to do? I want to cancel; wifey says no, screw those people. She actually said that! HA! I'm with ya, baby!

Today I found out about another corpse: Guy Peellaert, who put together a marvellous book called Rock Dreams back in 1975 died from a touch of the heart attack. He also designed the cover for Bowie's "Diamond Dogs". Check out his work here:

http://www.guypeellaert.com/guy.html

At the time, his blend of paintings/drawings and photos was groundbreaking, and the visionary images were mindblowing. And one of his works incorporatee a photo taken at the Gratiot drive-in. How did he get that - he was from Belgium!

Also, Jody Reynolds of "Endless Sleep" fame, died. We'll leave it at that, I'm not getting into another death trip during the holidays. That's a death trip in itself.

Music Sucks

2008-11-24T00:16:00.000-08:00

This past week I've seen numerous TV ads for the American Music Awards. I've always thought they were out-of-touch, since their creator Dick Clark has been out-of-touch since about 1963. The winners always seemed to be his showbiz "friends": Kenny Rogers, Diana Ross, Gladys Knight, Elton John, Cher - people who at the time had f#*k-all to do with what was happening in the music world (except for Elton, who just sucked, but was just plain unavoidable). The AMA's started at a time when Bowie was HUGE, Lou Reed had released "Transformer", Blue Oyster Cult was massive, etc, and who gets awards? Meat f#*king Loaf. Dick Clark had the 50s all sewn up, but as far as I'm concerned, he was a stroke victim as soon as The Beatles sang "yeah-yeah-yeah".

I digress - well, not actually, because the spirit of Dick Clark appears to still be alive and, well...

CHECK OUT THESE NOMINEES:

FAVORITE COUNTRY ARTIST: Garth Brooks (what year is this?)

ARTIST OF THE YEAR: Eagles (Is this watch broken?)

AND CHECK THESE WINNERS:

FAVORITE SOUNDTRACK ALBUM: Alvin & The Chipmunks - no f#*king comment.

FAVORITE ALT-ROCK ACT: Linkin Park - Alt? They're Limp Bizkit's illegitimate brother!

it goes on like that...

Man, just check out some of these other winners:

Chris Daughtry (he beat out COLDPLAY). Jordin Sparks. Taylor Swift. Carrie Underwood.

Do you see a pattern here? Aren't they all hooked up one way or another with American Idol or something?

Sorry. I do NOT populate my record collection based on those f#*king morons on American Idol, or any other shows of that ilk. Never have; never will. It's despicable, and anyone who doesn't see anything wrong with getting the soundtrack to your life from clueless TV judges honestly needs to get a f#*king clue about music.

Not sorry: I am a music fascist. I have spent my entire life (except for maybe the first 2 years) absorbing music, and where someone might have spot-on financial tips or can zero in on technology or anything else, I don't half-step when it comes to music. And when I see bullshit like The Jonas Brothers getting the breakthrough act award, shit that is so blatantly commercialized and whored strictly for fame & money (and yeah I know everyone wants money, but I pride myself on music for music's sake, period), well, I just wanna puke in their face.

I just have to say that Coldplay winning NOTHING is amazing. I used to like them; I don't anymore, & everytime I see a picture of Paltrow I hate them even more. But for them to get beat in every single category is unbelievable. The AMA's are like the 2000 & 2004 presidential elections.

And Dick Clark is the whole Bush family, with a speech impediment.

May You Never Hear Surf Music Again

2008-11-12T21:55:00.000-08:00

And it keeps going on and on ...

Mitch Mitchell, drummer for the original power trio The Jimi Hendrix Experience, died Nov 12 at the age of 61 from natural causes.

Mitchell was heavily influenced by jazz and had a rather light drumming style, which is odd when you think of Hendrix. But Mitchell provided the roll to Jimbo's rock. I often wondered what Hendrix's sides would've sounded like with one of the ham-fisted four-on-the-floor drummers that are so prevalent today.

Before Hendrix, Mitch drummed with r&b stalwarts The Pretty Things & soul/jazz ensemble Georgie Fame's Blue Flames. But being picked for The Experience provided him a life one could barely dream of. It's his drumming heard on all the Hendrix sessions, as well as the famed Woodstock gig.

Mitchell was the drummer for "The Dirty Mac", the pickup group John Lennon enlisted for a segment on The Rolling Stones' "Rock & Roll Circus" TV special from 1968. Along with Lennon & Mitchell, the band also included Keith Richard and Eric Clapton.

After Hendrix's death Mitchell helped finish tracks-in-progress for posthumous Hendrix releases, always with the approval of Hendrix's family foundation.

At the time of his death, Mitchell had just finished "Experience Hendrix", a coast-to-coast tour spotlighting (what else) the music of Jimbo and featuring guitarists Buddy Guy, Hubert Sumlin (Howlin' Wolf's guitar man) and David Hidalgo & Cesar Rosas from Los Lobos, among others. An autopsy showed natural causes; Mitchell was not a partier.

So Mitchell's death brings the entire Jimi Hendrix Experience together in the stratosphere (bassist Noel Redding died in 2003). If one believes spirits gather in some great beyond, then moreso than any other musical death that comes to mind, including Bird, Robert Johnson, Lennon or Trane, this one had the power to manifest something truly awesome in scope, and has completed a triumvirate so powerful that all I can say is the cosmic residents better grab something & hold on tight.

By the way, the title of this post refers to a line from Hendrix's cosmic jam, "Third Stone From The Sun". If you hear screams & howls in the sky, you'll know why.

Amandla!

2008-11-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

I know death is always on the job, and it seems like the quality of corpses lately has been ... extraordinary.

On November 9, Mama Africa, MIRIAM MAKEBA, age 76, died from a heart attack after performing a 30 minute set at a human rights gig in Italy. Most people old enough to know her have dug her 1966 hit, "Pata Pata". It was one of a handful of records from the 50s and 60s that at the time sounded "weird" or "strange", but today they are considered some of the first "world music" songs known to an American audience.

Harry Belafonte helped get her into the US, and she won a grammy with him for "An Evening With Belafonte/Makeba". She testified against apartheid at the UN & had her passport revoked, unbeknownst to her at the time. Unable to return to South Africa, she was granted honorary citizenship to 10 countries.

She was married to SNCC leader Stokeley Carmichael and "Papa Africa", Hugh Masakela (he of "Grazin' In The Grass" fame, one of the all-time coolest grooves ever). She played the concert at the "Rumble In The Jungle" for the Ali-Foreman fight in Zaire. Nelson Mandala was a close friend and was instrumental in her return to Africa. She was a guest on "The Cosby Show". She has received Peace Prizes (not from the Nobel cats, though) and has been nominated for grammys. And she ranks 38th in the list of 100 greatest South Africans.

Go to You Tube. Check out the videos for "Pata Pata" and "The Click Song", among others.

Geez, Death, Take A Break Already

2008-11-05T20:30:00.000-08:00

STUDS TERKEL - Died Oct 31, age 96. Chicago's favorite son. Author, blacklisted in the 50s, radio host for almost 50 years (Dylan was a guest at his genesis), Pulitzer Prize winner. There is just has too much to him for me to thumbnail it here.

JIMMY CARL BLACK - Drummer and "The Indian Of The Group" from The Mothers Of Invention died Nov 1, age 70, from lung cancer. He was very vocal about Zappa's shitty treatment of the band, but willfully rejoined him for awhile after being kicked out. Also lead the band "Geronimo Black" and was a member of The Grandmothers, a band made up of (you guessed it) Mothers alumni.

YMA SUMAC - November 1, age 83, also cancer. Dig her pic at the top of the post. She was an other-worldly exotic vocalist with a 200-octave range (would I lie?). In recent years she was conveniently lumped in with the ultra-lounge/exotica scene, but was most active from the 50s to the early 60s, same time frame as Martin "Quiet Village" Denny, another exotica figurehead. It is rumored that rather than Peruvian, she was really Amy Camus from Brooklyn, and that her agent or studio moguls flipped the name around for extra exotic strangeness.

BYRON LEE - He of "...& The Dragonaires" fame. What you'd probably know him for most is the song "Jamaican Ska" that ol' Annette sings in "Back To The Beach". Or maybe "Tiny Winey" if you pay any attentiion to the steel band on Caribbean cruises. Well, he was for sure a Calypso King. He started back in 1956, those pre-ska days of Mento music, and he more or less rolled with the changes all the way through reggae, all the while still doing calypso & soca. He was active up until his death from cancer on November 4 at the age of 73. He was a bad-ass cat.

MICHAEL CRICHTON - Nov 4, age 68, cancer. He's the one who gave us Andromeda Strain (not the actual strain, tho), Westworld, Congo, Jurassic Park, and he also created ER.

and finally, ...

RUDY RAY MOORE - Yeah, that's right, Dolemite! This guy's gettin' oral sex in a limo when he gets picked up from prison! (in the movie Dolemite, that is, although who knows?) He was around since the 50s, doing Redd Foxx-style standup (no, not Sanford-type stuff; this was the original x-rated deal) and he was a soul singer, too. But we know him best as the pimp/hustler/player called Dolemite. He had problems with diabetes (gulp) and died at the age of 81 on Oct 19.

OK, OK, now take five, willya?

Goin' Back To The Village Of Love

2008-11-04T21:53:00.000-08:00

Nathaniel Mayer died Nov 1. He was a Detroit cat who released some great sides on the legendary Fortune record label, including the international hit "Village Of Love". It had the standard primitive Fortune sound, but the quality was a notch upward from most Fortune singles. Yet typical of Fortune's history of gaffe-ridden releases, the song breaks for a guitar solo that's buried so deep in the mix anyone else would've done a 2nd take, but geez, that would mean more tape. Regardless, that song is a bonafide standard from the post-doowop/pre-soul twilight world of 1962. It's way noisy (Nate screams out half the song) but still couldn't prepare anyone for his next single: "I Had A Dream". I used to imagine spear-wielding African tribespeople in the studio doing the backing track. Once, many many MANY moons ago Nate was a guest on a radio show I used to listen to, "Old & Gold". I called the station during the record-playing segment to tell the host that "I Had A Dream" was on a par with ANY punk record EVER released for chaos, energy & bollocks-out rocking. He said "wait, Nate would love to hear that". Next thing I knew, I'm talking to Mr Nathaniel Mayer hisself, telling him the same thing! He was chuffed, to say the least. And I was as nervous as a record nut having a word with Nathaniel Mayer!

And who can forget his other chestnut, "I Want Love & Affection (Not The House Of Correction)"?

In recent years Nate, with help from local musicians & Dayton's Black Keys, had a couple albums released to critical acclaim. Of course they sold next to nothing. He had a series of strokes awhile back, but his death was still a shock. Recently I saw former Dirtbomb bassist Troy Gregory who during a conversation said, "...and I won't be playing with Nate anymore...". I thought it was an artistic choice until he said, "well, he's been sick..." I had forgotten about that. And I bet Troy's glad he had the chance.

FUNKY PRESIDENT

2008-11-04T20:31:00.000-08:00

The Godfather said it in 1973, after Jerry Ford -??!?? - but today it really applies: We just got a funky new president. Even though he can't dance.

Washington has long been known as Chocolate City, and all these stupid sobriquets don't really apply, because Brother 'Rack is the whitest brother this side of Colin Powell (not that that's a bad thing).

Anyway, Daddy-"O", get on the good foot & FIX US, MAN!!!!!!

Death Takes No Holiday

2008-11-03T00:17:00.001-08:00

I'm back after a few weeks away from Blogville. Geez, what's happened? McDonna gets divorced, gas prices plummet, and of course, death gets greedy.

Pictured above, Alton Ellis, called "the godfather of rocksteady", died at the age of 70. His best known track is "Dance Crasher", but my favorite by him is "I'm Still In Love With You". Just go check his stuff out, you should've already done so. Catch-up time for you.

Although silenced for a number of years now, one of the greatest voices in the world, Levi Stubbs, has also gone. Even though I have been thoroughly sick of Motown for quite some time, I'll be the first to admit that you would be hard pressed to find a more soulful, emotional voice than Levi's.

Edie Adams was both sultry & lucky - to be Ernie Kovacs' wife. And now that she's dead too, they can rekindle their flame, although I think it was out cold long before Ernie kicked off decades ago. Edie used to have a Muriel Cigar TV ad in which she purred, Marilyn-style, "why don't you pick one up & smoke it sometime?" Uh-huh, baby.

Jack Narz died too, and he hosted lotsa game shows in the 50s & early 60s. The one that instantly comes to mind for me is "Seven Keys", where you acquired keys for winning rounds of questions, and the key could open the door to a new car.

So that's death for you.

Now what's this I hear about Neil Young FINALLY releasing his Archives VOL 1 in January. The first 10-disc set is retailling at $450??!!?? I thought he was a man of the people? Did he CONVENIENTLY forget that no one has a job? I am not happy with him. I guess everyone's a pig at some point, even "everymen".

A word about my recent trip to Hawaii: it was fabby-poo, I spent less money than I expected, and I didn't want to leave (another Mai-Tai, mahalo!). I had the ol' iPod peppered with all kindsa Hawaiian & island-type music, but what shuffled to the top most of the time?

The Fall. Perfect.

I'm Sick Y'all

2008-10-08T23:23:00.000-07:00

The title of this post heralds a return to non-political rantings - yay! It's a reference to an Otis Redding song, and also unfortunately a declaration of my health at the moment. And I'm leaving for Hawaii in 5 days! More meds!!

I was reading some miscellaneous stuff about Pittsburgh DJ Mad Mike Metro, guitarist supreme Robert Quine (both dead btw), and James "Hound" Marshall who used to dj on my fave WFMU long before I was hip to it (back in the late 70s). Anyway, I came across some useless information (my favorite kind) that got me to thinking...

What was the first record I bought with my own money? This is a toss-up: it was either Jackie Wilson's "Lonely Teardrops" album (unless my sister bought it for me, or the money was given to her by my mother, but I do know it was hand delivered by my sister, who had actually been instructed to buy Jackie's "He's So Fine" lp, but at the time I didn't know the more recent L. T. was out - hell, I was like 5. So she made the right choice.). OR - it was "Fingertips". In the course of my younger days, this seems rather late (9 or 10 years old), because I had a lot of records. Maybe it was just that they were all bought for me, but this one was definitely with my own money, on my own trek to the record shop. Did "Twist & Shout" by The Isley Brothers come out before that one? Because I definitely remember having that one, but I can't remember if I paid for it myself.

My all-time favorite album: "Highway 61 Revisited" by Bob Dylan, I was 12. I remember this vividly, I bought it at Sears (?!) at Macomb Mall. My friend Duane had a sister 2 years older than me (who saw both Detroit Beatle concerts, 64 & 65? she did) & on that same day she bought The Byrds' "Turn Turn Turn". We swapped albums for one day, and I kinda liked hers better for a short while, because it was more commercially pop and like I said, I was 12. But in the end, the man won out, 43 years & holding.

First concert: The Motortown Revue, Fox Theater, December 1963, 10 years old. No Beatles yet, Motown was the thing. Marvin Gaye, Smokey, Mary Wells, The Marvelettes. No Supremes or Stevie. First "rock" concert: SRC, East Detroit High School, March 1970, 16 years old.

And in the same vein, major acts (in my world) that I've seen: Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Sinatra, Bill Haley, Bo Diddley, Lennon, McCartney, Dylan, Stones, Velvet Underground, Ike & Tina Turner, John Lee Hooker, Peter Tosh, MC5, Stooges, Ramones, Sex Pistols, Clash, Dolls, Bowie, Kraftwerk, Stevie Wonder, Aretha, Brian Wilson, Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac, Dr. John, The Who, The Fall, Ray Davies, The Faces, Sonny Rollins, Archie Shepp, Dave Brubeck, King Sunny Ade, Wynton Marsalis, James Brown, Neil Young, and then there are the tons of flavors-of-the-week and 2nd and 3rd stringers.

Who did I miss just because I was lazy & didn't want to get in the car & go & now I could kick myself: Monk. And Diz. And Sun Ra.

First real kiss: summer of 1966. First "wow" experience that didn't seem handed down from earlier times: Haight Ashbury and Golden Gate Park, December 1967 - just after the Summer Of Love. First pair of bell bottom jeans: 1968, 10th grade.

First legal beer: Lums, Roseville. First new car: 1975 Chevy Monza. First "totalled" accident: 1975 Chevy Monza, less than a year later.

Where does this end?

Here. I'm sick. y'all.

Hanal To The Chief

2008-10-05T23:22:00.001-07:00

WOW!!! Thanx for the comments, all 3 of you (it seemed like so many many more)!! Check the previous post for some top comments -including a quite legendary reply from yours truly!

But here's something that came to mind: why indeed hasn't John Waters run for president? Isn't he actually what we all want to be? Or is that just me? He lives out his twisted fantasies by having someone else act them out on film for all to see, & he can just sit back & stay clean? And in the end the common man love those fantasies & make him a multi-millionaire!! I mean, if someone's gonna manipulate me, it might as well be him. Imagine, living in a world filled with depraved lunatics & obese drag queens. Gee, how I miss going to see his work in grimy art houses half-full of questionable reprobates. The good old days.

Recently at a DC insider cocktail party it was suggested that the Democrats would be happy with the likes of Rip Taylor for president. What was really meant by that statement is that the Dems would take any fruity ol' pisser because that is their wont. Nothing could be further from the truth, I say! Rip is old & boring, and we've already had that. Plus he's messy, what with that confetti all over the place. And he's just not funny. An unfunny queen? Breeder, please. But if he's part of a nine-member cast of leaders who sit three-by-three in a box trimmed in flashing lights, we'd take him in a heartbeat. Considering the Pushing Daisies guy brings Paul Linde back, too.

Look, we gotta crawl before we walk. This election has gotten more people talking about (and acting as if they care about) this country than any time since Woodstock (the one without arson). Even though their reasons may be superficial, and they may just be extremely lucky that the guy they're (probably) backing is (probably) the best guy in recent years who's gonna step up & go for the job, at least we're (probably) not talking about Miley Cyrus or Lezbey Lohan. Let's all just pray this thing goes well because we MUST bring an end to this right-wing, bible-based, fear-nurturing regime. It (probably) WON'T stop under McCain.

ONE MO' THING: I usually never recommend anything from Rolling Stone (what a total piece of crap), but their cover story on the early days of John McCain is quite entertaining, although at times it seems like they wanted to shock but just pulled an "aw". His early days sound like another assholes. His latter days can't be much different. Use the link to read it online.

http://www.rollingstone.com/news/coverstory/make_believe_maverick_the_real_john_mccain

Now, go rent The John Waters Collection. It's no "Bonzo" anthology, but then what is?

Commenting On The Debate I Didn't Watch: Patriotic!

2008-10-02T21:33:00.000-07:00

No, I didn't watch it.

I have cultivated such a strong dislike for her that I didn't want to see her possibly do a good job, because I get a perverse pleasure from hating her & that whole whale blubber clan of the cave bear circus she's part of. If she held her own, then bully for her. If not, bully for me.

I did a fair share of Thursday night quarterbacking, and it appears she was really rocking that Cowgirl-At-A-Themepark bullshit: y'all, yah know, gonna, droppin' her "g"s, ... Can't we have someone who's eloquent & can talk to people intelligently? Oh wait, we already have that: it's called the Obama/Biden ticket. And just because I'm educated and can understand big words does that make me pretentious? (I well may be, but not for that reason.)

I'm tired of folksy. Truly. And just because she drove a van to a

f#%king soccer game doesn't mean she's cornered the market on real life.

This country is supposed to be the place where any US citizen could ideally be president. But honestly, she needs to get wise. She's like some character in a second rate comedy chock full of SNL & SCTV hasbeens where they pull some poor unsuspecting "Joe Six-Pack" (another Palinism) out of nowhere to take the place of some world leader who's been shot.

I wonder if the GOP thought, "hey, this one's a spittin' image of Tina Fey. We pick her and there'll be an uptick on SNL coverage!" "But wait, Fey's not on the show anymore." "Shoot, she'll come back to the show just for this, you watch!"

Hurry, November 4, and be good to me. I'm tired of feeling compelled to post politically.

...Line?

2008-09-29T21:31:00.000-07:00

We'll get right back to "Grrrandpapa Knows Best", but for just a mo', let me go off topic and discuss my favorite train wreck, Sarah "I Can See Russia From My Toilet" Palin.

That Couric interview. I get so uncomfortable when someone so embarrasses themself that I can barely look them in the eye, electronically or otherwise. What a clueless corpse! Sure, I couldn't answer those questions, but I'm not running for Veep of the world, either.

Dig this:

"It was like I had to make up every answer," said Palin in a statement written for her by someone other than herself. "If I knew that my responses to Katie's questions were not going to be provided to me before hand, I wouldn't have done the interview in the first place."

Double WTF??!!???

86 that bitch fast!!!

But here's the scary part: who's that in the on-deck circle? Probably Mitt Romney. Talk about striking fear in the hearts of men. What about Giuliani? Nah, he can't see past "9/11". Lieberman? Hyuk, you don't really think they'd go with a jew, do you? Palin was their Angela Davis or Jane Fonda as far as they're concerned.

Have a nice trip back home. Is "Men In Trees" still on TV? Maybe she can do a walk-on.

At least it's not improv.

The World Is A Better Place

2008-09-29T00:58:00.000-07:00

The other day I became a grandfather for the first time. This was an exciting experience, because I saw the little tyke when he was an hour old. His eyes were open for most of that first visit, quite a lot more than they were over the next 48 hours or so. He probably saw all he could take, & thought, "Y'know what - I'm going back to sleep; wake me when the new Dylan box comes out (Oct 7, btw)". Yeah, the modern world makes you jaded real fast.

All throughout the waiting period (I think it's called pregnancy) I was wondering how this was going to affect my normal everyday lifestyle, i.e., I hate people, of which kids are a subset, and how I don't like to be infringed upon by stuff I can't be arsed with. Well, as the big day grew closer, I started thinking about the cool & crazy things I could do with the little brussel sprout, all the info and data and stuff I would pass on. Y'see, I'm pretty sure I'm the most unorthodox grandparent this kid has. The most abnormal one. The one who's closest to his age, spirit-wise if not mentality-wise. Fact is, I really kinda like kids - in their place - when they're being cool 'n all, not bratty & obnoxious & messing up your shit. I really dig a child's sensibility. I like their purity & innocence & honesty. Until grownups get their stinking hands on them.

This is a tough world in which to grow up. I don't envy him, but I will certainly help him. Right after I empty my drool cup & change my diaper. I'll live vicariously through this boy while that's still an attractive concept. I'm always grousing over the fact that at my age I can't pull off a lot of the things I see in mens shops, all these variations on themes from bygone eras. So I'll just take the kid shopping & make him a 21st century me.

But no f$%king athletic shoes or hoodies.

Heaven's Gonna Swing Now

2008-09-21T22:31:00.000-07:00

Earl Palmer was one of the greatest drummers on the planet. People talk about this drummer, that drummer. Jump back, Jack. My man Earl played with everyone from the King of Rock & Roll - that's Little Richard - to Neil Young to Ringo to Elvis Costello to (hold on to your hats) Frank Sinatra.

My favorite Earl sides are naturally the Little Richard sessions on Specialty Records. This was the greatest rock & roll band in the world, not only was Earl there, but the mighty duo of Lee Allen and Red Tyler on sax, Frank Field on the bass, and Edgard Blanchard on guitar. Oh yeah, and Richard Penniman on piano. This band was primarily on every Nawlins record from the fifties, give or take a cat or two - Fats, Huey Smith, Fess, Shirley & Lee et al. But I'm getting off on a tangent, this ain't about Nawlins, just it's greatest drummer.

"Tutti Fruitti". "I Hear You Knockin'". "I'm Walkin'". "Rockin' Robin". "La Bamba". "River Deep - Mountain High"!! (can you imagine that session??) "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling. (or that one??) "Dance With Me Henry". The theme songs from "77 Sunset Strip" and "The Odd Couple"!! The Flintstones theme song!!!! Green Acres!! I Dream Of Jeannie!! The Frikkin Brady Bunch!! The film scores to "Judgement at Nuremberg", "Mad Mad World", "A Patch Of Blue", "Robin & The Seven Hoods" and "How To Stuff A Wild Bikini" to name a few.

And he was a charter member of the legendary "Wrecking Crew" in LA. (look it up)

And there's more and more, trust me.

How great does a guy have to be to play on Lucille and the score to Judgement At Nuremberg?That's talented, to be sure. Gifted.

Sometime in the early/mid 90s, Earl appeared in a video with Alt-crap band Cracker. Leader David Lowery asked Palmer if he would be able to play along with the songs, Earl gave Lowery a look and said,

"I invented this shit."

Another Rick In The Wall

2008-09-17T00:23:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know, that was a pitiful pun. But what can I say, here I am acknowledging the passing of Rick Wright, Keyboardist for Pink Floyd for 42 years. Cancer, wouldn't ya know.

I don't like Pink Floyd. Actually, I should clarify that; I like the first Pink Floyd album "Piper At The Gates Of Dawn" a whole lot. It's very English, very experimental, and at the time Floyd was led by Syd Barrett, a true visionary, an avatar, and very quickly a psychedelic casualty. After that first album, a couple singles and a couple tracks from the second album A Saucerful Of Secrets, Barrett moved onto his own planet, never to return, and he died in 2006.

Anyway, back to the Rickster. I seem to remember reading somewhere, though I can't for the life of me recall where, probably some UK monthly, that Wright did not think very highly of Syd Barrett. But I can't find any proof of that on the web. I believe I read that he more than any other of his Floydian cohorts held that opinion. So I have to be honest, when I heard that Rick Wright died, I was a little "what goes around comes around, mutha". Because post-Barrett Floyd suck the big one.

Was Wright a bad seed? Seems he also had a problem with bassist/vocalist Roger Waters, who played a major part in the composition and execution of Floyd's overblown musical wanking. He even "quit" the band in the 80s (big deal, they were dormant for 20 years). But he came back when they reformed for a few shows and a couple albums in the noughts.

SO - no more Floyd reunion tours, or albums. Guess you'll have to settle for the laser shows at the planetarium.

Funny, you don't sound like the governor of Alaska

2008-09-15T21:22:00.000-07:00

Motor City Maniac

2008-09-10T23:51:00.000-07:00

I was reading a post on some blog - can't remember which one, but it was a link off FreakyTrigger, a site that humorously revisits pop culture touchstones of the past. At any rate, I was reminded therein of my first submission to the Letters section of Creem Magazine. It was March 1971, Volume 3, Number 1, and that's it at the top of the post. At the time I was very into local combo Brownsville Station, who specialized in revving up fifties chestnuts to high energy levels. About two years later they found international fame with "Smokin' In The Boys Room", and by that time had watered themselves down and turned faux-glam for fame and fortune.

I digress. Anyway, I had seen them a few times around town at the local dives, and being 17 had also started the ritual of drinking before going into the venue (they didn't serve alcohol back then). This undoubtedly made me more susceptible to their on-stage histrionics, because I sent this raving letter to Creem. And they published it. The letter was peppered with a lot of cliches, like "bees that way sometimes", which would assure them I was down with the brothers in the ghetto, if not one myself. Oh yeah, and "got to be a stone rock & roll maniac!" - that was one I remember using. Geez, how embarrassing. So this issue comes out, it's the first Creem in a new cut-page format rather than the old newspaper size version. And I see the letter! YOW! And not only do I see it, but this girl in my Econ class sees it, too. She's one of a group of girls, some from my school, that were at the ghetto ballrooms every weekend, but her aim was not to dig the sounds, but dig the band personally, if you get my drift. I seem to remember she was especially "friendly" with the MC5. She was always cool to me, tho. So on the morning after I got my copy of Creem, she sees me in class and says, "hey Bob (yeah, I was Bob in those days), I saw your letter in Creem". WOW! So did she see it at Wayne Kramer's house (see earlier post) or something? Did she say, "Hey, here's a letter written by this guy in my Econ class! He's pretty cool! Can I restring your Mosrite, Wayne?" At any rate, it was my first entry to a rock & roll magazine, the best one on the planet at the time, and it got published. But unfortunately it was prior to their policy of replying to each letter published with a smartass comment. Wonder what mine would've been?

"Yeah, we feel the same way Bob. Brownsville Station are ace!

"And you're a suburban asshole!"

Coulda shoulda woulda...

THIS JUST IN ...

2008-09-09T23:32:00.001-07:00

Sarah Palin's kids' names are coincidentally also nicknames for her va-jay-jay!

People Are Funny

2008-09-07T21:24:00.001-07:00

In the past two weeks I have started three posts and posted none. They were all politically inclined. I hesitated, and ultimately demurred, because I've already done some pseudo-political posts (If you want real political posts, go somewhere like Huffington Post). No one cares about my views on these sort of things, just like I don't care about anyone else's; I barely care about my own.

This whole political climate that exists right now has me vexed. Women in politics? Yeah, sure, do it, I'll cheer you on. But why always the wrong ones? Or else it's stupid old white men not knowing their ass from a hole in the ground - I'm becoming one of those myself. Politics for me always seems to be a case of not knowing what I want but sho-nuff knowing what I don't want.

Geez, lookit: a political post.

I need to get back to my uproariously funny, life-changing, you-better-dig-this-type posts. That's where I shine, n'est-ce pas?

I have a lot of things happening in the next couple months. My sister is visiting from Chad next week. My daughter is releasing her debut child the week after or thereabouts. I'm going to Hawaii for two weeks in October (houserobbers, take note).

And then in November I'm going to kick some dumbass cowboy motherf$#ker and his ugly ass wife out of their house. Yippee!!

La Bamba!

2008-08-28T23:39:00.000-07:00

First off, let me say I still endorse Alfred E. Newman for president.

Predictably all the forward-thinking lefty celebs are supporting Borat - no wait, that's BARAK. Er, that's not right, either. It's BARACK. BARACK OBAMA. Yeah, that's it. Y'know if I were him, I'd plead with all them beautiful people to stay away in droves. F'rinstance there's these stupid rock bands putting on concerts in Denver during the convention, thinking they're helping their man get over. Yeah. Rage Against The Machine, pseudo-radical has-beens who mix tuneless grunge with political rhetoric, have reformed because they think America needs them now more than ever, and they're Denver-bound to prove it. Joining the act in Mile-Highville is one of the elders, or elderly, Wayne Kramer. He was - IS - famous for being 1st chair guitarist in MC5, another group (in)famous for it's (pseudo)political leanings - that is until they realized - too late of course - it was an obstacle to their shot at *pop*stardom. Fact is, were it not for their Mao- and Panther-inspired manager they would've been a mere footnote in the cesspool of anonymous 60s rock bands instead of gladly copping to the moniker "forefathers of punk".

A lot of words about not much. As usual.

McCain. Poor guy. McLame. He picks one song for his campaign, and how stupid is he, because it's "Running On Empty" by well-known lefty Jackson Browne. Does anyone else NOT know Browne is a dem-supporter? Hey, McCain has his supporters, too. Heidi Montag. Angie Harmon. Craig T. Nelson.

It's the same every four years. That's why I think celebs and musicians should be banned from publicly supporting politicians. Cuz then we get assholes like REM, or Bono, who's not even American, voicing their choice, and dispensing with their head-up-their-arse wisdom. Who cares what they think about politics? They're much too far removed from reality to know what's happening on the street. Maybe they should use their time more wisely and work on their craft, cuz their records sure do suck. And their support, in my opinion, hurts their guy. Look, we all know Hollywood & the rock world are gonna go Dem. So why bother to go all public with it? The publicity? Yeah, probably. It looks good on the resume.

At this point nothing anyone does is going to change anything about how America is going to vote. Either way. Not Biden. Not Hillary's "support" (c'mon - you believed that speech?). Not Rage or Michael Stipe. It would take a combination of Bill Clinton's cigar, John Edwards' booty call, Kwame Kilpatrick's bullshit and Charles Manson's bloodbath to NOT put LaBamba (I dig that one) in the White House.

Unbelievable! Linda McCartney Supports Biden!

2008-08-27T01:14:00.000-07:00

Biden Wants Band On The Run for Campaign Song

2008-08-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

Geez. What a weekend. Perfect weather, except I had to spend most of my saturday afternoon sleeping because I worked friday night. Everything was going fine until Sunday when I got the one-two punch of stupidity. First, I see the headlines screaming that Joe Biden has been picked for Vice-Principal. Then horror of horrors I see the Sports Illustrated cover with Pumpkin seeds-teeth in a halter top no self respecting hooker would wear. And I have decided this has to be the ugliest boy on the planet.

Truth be told, I don't know a lot about Joe Biden, but I will check him out. Not that it will alter my decision in the voting booth. I mean, come on. I don't know that Biden was a stupid choice. I just wanted someone more ... something.

But that's my opinion.

And you're welcome to it.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

2008-08-19T21:41:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody! Lookit over on the right side of your screen! I've added a list of blogs & websites that you HAVE to check out! They're in alpha order, so there's no favoritism exhibited. Take a moment and look for yourself.

BUT I must tell you if you're looking for good sounds on the web, (you knew I'd push this one extra hard) you GOTTA go to the WFMU site. You can dig archive shows, listen live and don't forget to visit their home page because they are truly orbiting elsewhere. And their blog is wildly entertaining, there are so many things happening. Shows that get the GoogaMooga seal of approval are Dave The Spazz (thurs 8-11pm - this is my favorite show), Michael Shelley (sat 10am-1pm), Fool's Paradise (sat 1-3pm), Teenage Wasteland (sun 5-7pm), and Downtown Soulville (fri 7-8pm) but there are certainly many more esoteric shows to check out. I usually listen archive-style, since many shows are going down while I'm busy doing other meaningless things.

Also the RootsRockReggae site has NO Dancehall, NO Ragga, NO Reggaeton - strictly roots! And WWOZ - well, what can I say, it's from Nawlins! And XFM is London's best modern music source, very diverse. But remember, they're 6 hours ahead of us.

OK, enough commercials - see ya soon!

I Could Use A Genny Cream Ale Right About Now

2008-08-18T21:05:00.000-07:00

Here I am, fresh from a weekend one could describe as a very sobering experience. I went to a baby shower - shut up - and I both arrived & left sober. Then I went to a party, and I left it sober - ??!!?? - How does that happen when you bring your own boatload of drinks? Well, I'll tell you how - because I left early when one of my crosstown passengers got the rockin' pneumonia and/or the boogie woogie flu. I won't say who, but he got my daughter pregnant (you know who you are). Then after all that I broke my toe. It's the one that if you could give the finger with your foot, that's the toe you'd use. Yesterday it was black, today it's purple. Tomorrow, probably green & yellow, if this is America.

Interesting fact: over the weekend I found out hundreds of people read this blog, but they're not commenting because they're holding the laptop with one hand & wiping with the other. True story. (Fishsticks: holla back)

Another interesting thing I discovered: you can win a shitload of olympic medals even when your mouth looks like a bunch of pumpkin seeds in a squeezy change purse. Somebody better call 1-800-dentist, and by someone I mean you Phelpsie!

So I really don't have anything else to say right now, so I'll cut you all loose & as soon as I have something to say about nothing which apparently is how some of you like it, I'll post another tirade.

All Hail The Queen

2008-08-12T22:25:00.000-07:00

Today marks my first daughter's birthday. Presley died 3 days after she was born. He had to make way for her. The world couldn't continue to spin with both of them in it. So be it: Adios, loser!

When she was little, she was bald & beautiful. Then her hair grew in, and she continued to be beautiful. I never talked to her with that "eechi-weechi-koochi-koo" shit, and maybe that's why she never needed a diction or elocution coach.

At different stages in her life she did things I didn't understand, and while it would occasionally mess my head up, it was a valid part of life & that's kinda the way it should be. If you can read through this statement, kids should discard everything their parents do & parents should in turn hate whatever their kids embrace. Like I said, see through the cultural meaning of that statement.

There were more differences between my prior generation & me than hers & mine. Imagine life with no rock & roll or tv; sex & drugs & gay life were taboo & kept hidden in the dark crevices of life; no one paid attention to women unless they were stripping; no shopping on Sunday; no meat on Friday; no VIP sections at clubs. And all phones had cords, although phone booths apparently were a youth culture oasis.

When she was born I was in the throws of nascent Punk culture. I mean, I had a job & all that, but if stuff wasn't Punk-oriented, I didn't want to know. 1977 was year zero for Punk. I had a friend cut my hair short - SHORT - and she was dumb-founded. "You don't want it styled?" No, just CHOP THE SHIT OFF! And I remember The Clash playing on the stereo - repeatedly, since at the time all they had was one UK single. I tossed all my flairs and bell bottoms. It wasn't easy finding any other kindsa pants. But you could get straight leg jeans at Kmart, for the farmers, I guess. I actively sought out all Punk music. No one knew about any of it. Some things never change. I bought my first Punk records by mail order from New York. They arrived addressed to "occupant" - how blank-generation!

I wondered what would happen after I had kids. You certainly go through changes; you have to think differently about some things, but I was still the same person I was in most ways. And to this day, I still am. I remember back when I was single, taking my niece to the Thanksgiving Day parade, and getting her back a bit later than expected. My sister & brother-in-law were furious. They always thought I was an irresponsible hippie. "Wait till you have kids", my brother-in-law said as I walked out of their house. "not like you, motherf#%ker", I remember thinking. And I never was.

Somewhere there exists a cassette tape of me teaching my daughter how to say "rastafar-i" and "are we not men? we are devo!" She was maybe two.

So now my daughter is older than I was when she was born. And despite creaking bones and such, I'd like to think I'm the same as I was back then. I wish she could've experienced some things I did that don't exist anymore. Just like my mother might've, I guess. It's a tough world nowadays, mostly because of money and jobs. You gotta be strong. And that's certainly what my daughter is.

After all, she brought about the death of Elvis.

Bad Mutha...

2008-08-10T21:23:00.000-07:00

Here's why Chef is dead: he got all shirty about South Park. It put food on his table. And while I usually believe in biting the hand that feeds you, I gotta believe he HAD to have fun doing what he was doing. Nothing was to be taken seriously, and he had to be hip enough to know that. I think he was looking for an out, so he could revive his "Black (old man) Moses" persona. Or maybe reprise his role as Truck Turner.

AND THEN ... or actually EARLIER...

Bernie Mac, who I think is kinda funny even though he talks like he has a mouth fulla bar-b-q alla the time (he's whitey-approved) gets sick & up and dies.

Ike & Mac are co-starring with Jules from Pulp Fiction in an upcoming movie - two corpses, the negro "Dark Knight"?

WATCH OUT SAM JACKSON! MAKE THAT DR APPOINTMENT!!

2008-08-07T22:45:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I know, two posts in one day. Sorry, I couldn't help it. I mean, here's Deborah Harry. 60-year-old Deborah Harry. Former Playboy bunny "watch me dip" Deborah Harry. Mature Deborah Harry. Or so I thought. Grandma, HELP!

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS???

2008-08-07T22:41:00.000-07:00

This magazine should be called "WTF" !! Here's Kate Hudson looking like a Patrick Nagel drawing, that is, like a Duran Duran lp cover, that is, like a cheap piece of "art" in a furniture store.

That's all, just wanted to show you this ridiculous thing.

But Enough About Me...

2008-07-31T22:11:00.000-07:00

Sigh. This stupid world of blogs. I think about it and, I mean, what is this really but just an avenue for my opinions on stuff & a way to make people read them rather than listen to me tell them. Nobody wants that. Because if you do THAT, people glaze over & drift off & start thinking, "who cares? wonder if there's any chip dip in the fridge? I need to pee..." But given the fact that no one actually reads anymore except for the internet, blogs give people a chance to reply to one's tirades with a thumbs up, thumbs down, or an entirely different opinion that is or isn't related to what they're replying to.

And unless you're Bai Ling (look it up), who's actually responding to your blog? Your friends, if you have any? Your family, if they can be arsed? Maybe blogging is just another form of keeping a diary, but a bit more random than "day 13: today I finally pushed away from the dinner table..."

I don't care. Did I figure everyone would tell everyone else about my fab blog site, & people everywhere would read it, and somehow Dave Berry or David Sedaris or somebody would catch wind & start commenting back to me. To ME. And, y'know, the page wouldn't have to change because it's MY blog and the reason they're all reading it & commenting is because it isn't themselves. But maybe they can relate. Or the total opposite. Any reaction is better than none at all. Isn't that right, Bill O'Reilly?

I had a pretty involved post going in draftland, about how Lindsay Lohan isn't gay (she isn't, y'know) and how her friend is a Pete Doherty wannabe and the sister of "gee I'm lucky, I hope no one finds out how talentless I really am" producer Mark Ronson, then I started thinking "does anyone even know who Pete f#*king Doherty is? or Mark f#*king Ronson?" It sucks when no one gets what you're writing about. And that's not a comment on people's intelligence, it just means most stuff really doesn't mean anything to anyone. Like I'm surprised I even know who Bai Ling is, except I she was popping up in some of the stuff I read online (indicative of what?), & I felt the need to look her up (she seems enigmatic. also she's fairly stupid and shallow. I like that, but I don't actually like her).

Blogging is the 21st century t-shirt. Way back when, the t-shirt was the way to let people know you were pro-Foghat. Before that it was the bumper sticker - "Vote 'yes' on 'C'". But now, we have become such complex beings that it takes a whole series of promotional shitfests to get people to get us.

Back in the punk days it was so much simpler, I honestly didn't care who got me. I got me. Maybe my friends got me, grudgingly. Now my friends who got me are dead, and there isn't enough time for new friends to get me. That's why we have blogsites. You can get me at your leisure, that is if I'm telling the truth.

New Found Freedom In Suburbia, ca. 1964-65

2008-07-25T01:57:00.000-07:00

The see-saw ride that is "yay summer" / "boo hiss summer" continues. This is a "yay" post; not that the last one was a "boo hiss" one, but it DID deal with death. This one doesn't. It's very much about life.

Without fail, my summers always resurrect memories of summers gone-by, and most always two years in particular: 1964 and 1965.

The summer of '64 is very special to me. My father died the previous March. It was my first summer out of the lower east side ghetto that made up my first 10 years. Also The Beatles had exploded onto the US scene just before spring. You may not think their arrival is such a big deal considering the way stuff happens now, but there was literally nothing happening since 1959; Neil Sedaka, Bobby Vinton and Del Shannon. Dire. Five years of crap (because Phil Spector was just getting it together). The British Invasion added to my other new beginnings and you have an importance on my life that you couldn't believe.

My mother and I spent 2 weeks visiting relatives in Pennsylvania that summer. Week two was spent at an aunt's cottage and it was there that I met the first girl I had a crush on, I can't remember her name but her brother was a DJ at WNEW in New York. They had a shitload of records at their cottage. He gave me a DJ copy of The Beatles' "And I Love Her", probably to stop me from hanging around him & asking questions. I clearly remember playing some card game for matchsticks at their cottage alot & they repeatedly listened to "The Womenfolk" lp (early folk singers http://www.amazon.com/The-Womenfolk-Vol-2/dp/B001A3CN7E ), especially "Little Boxes" (yeah, from "Weeds") Anyway, I got sympathy from a lot of those relatives 'cuz I was single parented. Whatever.

That first summer, using directions from my neighbor I walked, by myself, to Eastland, an "outside" mall like they try to "niche up" nowadays (they didn't go indoor until the mid 70s). It was a little over a mile away (remember, I was 11). Such were the times, nothing to fear as long as you weren't totally stupid. When I got there, I went straight to the record shop and bought two singles: "Tell Me" by The Stones and "The Girl From Ipanema" by Stan Getz. Why at 11 did I buy that one? One could say why at 11 did I buy any? That's me. Then I had no more money & lots of time to kill, walking around with that bag.

The following summer, 1965, I got a brand spanking new bike for my birthday, a 3-speed racer that I kept in my room for quite awhile. I rode that thing everywhere, and if you remember from a previous post I mentioned how I rode it to Eastland (same place) & it was stolen. Again with the record shopping, too (My Generation).

I could go just about anywhere within reason. My friend across the street and I used to ride to school playgrounds & play with matches, smoke cigarettes we stole from parents, and make up dirty rhymes & songs (He had a favorite: "Goddamn motherf$*ckin' blue-balled bitch/ Hang around me you'll get your big ass kicked" - claims he heard that from his older brother).

We had a drug store on the corner that carried everything a 10 or 11 year old boy could want: candy, model cars kits (paint too), sunglasses, comic books (and then of course Beatle magazines and even for a short time "Rave" - which was like a British "Tiger Beat"; they ran really ace color photos of people like Small Faces and The Pretty Things - fantastic!

http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/Beatles-Harrison-Various-Rave-No-5-60s-pop-magazine_W0QQitemZ130196468567QQcmdZViewItem?_trksid=p3286.m20.l1116 ).

When Beatle collector cards came out (like baseball cards), we'd buy them all the time, at a nickle a pack.

(http://cgi.ebay.com/Beatles-Gum-Cards-from-Liverpool-UK_W0QQitemZ190238022271QQihZ009QQcategoryZ156521QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem)

Then right around the corner the mother of the drug store owner had a little grocery shop with a penny candy counter. A few blocks away was Anderson's, all I remember them selling was stuff like trick matches, onion gum, whoopie cushions - like the back of a comic book. Kid heaven!

Every saturday and sunday we talked someone's parents (or my sister - my mother didn't drive) into dropping us off/picking us up at the movies. Two or three movies that ran continuously until about 5pm. There were about a half dozen theaters we'd go to, and on weekends during the day they were ruled by kids. Absolutely no adults coming in to catch a flick, now that I think of it. Can you imagine what that was like? It was the precursor of going to the mall, and for me & my ilk it was the precursor to going to rock ballrooms every weekend six years later or so (we didn't hang out at the mall).

After those first two summers in the suburbs I entered junior high, and grudgingly welcomed self-consciousness, self-doubt and self-loathing. All the fun kid stuff I was wrapped up in was now closely scrutinized and a very extreme "keep/discard" system was applied. And from that point forward the opinion of the opposite sex was always a factor. Gone were the days of "can I eat all five of these snickers", or "I can belch the theme to The Flintstones", or even "I can pretend this tennis racket is John's Rickenbacker and when I put this Beatle wig on I'm him".

Girls don't dig that stuff.

Death Haunts My Summer

2008-07-22T22:38:00.000-07:00

This middle month of summer has not been kind to the world of celebrity. Let's have a quick glance at this corpse-strewn planet of ours:

July 3: BOZO!!! Bozo (legally Larry Harmon) is DEAD!!!! Awww no!!!! Who's gonna raise Butchie-Boy now (except he's about 50)? Bozo is dead, and now WGN has to fill two hours of Sunday morning programming. I vote for vintage Meet The Press outtakes, with Tim Russert (d. 6/13/08).

July 4: Jesse Helms. Shit-for-brains self-described redneck politician from North Carolina. Racist. Moron. Anti-integration. Anti-civil rights. Anti-abortion. Anti-gay rights. Glad you're dead, you piece of shit motherf*#cker. Only wish you'd have taken about 5,000,000 of your ilk with you.

July 11: Chuck Carbo. A Nawlins music staple since the 50s, when, as a member of The Spiders - with his brother Chick - he had a national hit with "Witchcraft" which Presley (d. 8/16/77) covered (and once again made more money from). But if you really wanna hear Chuck kick some soul grooves, search the web to stream "Can I Be Your Squeeze" (actually you can listen to it here http://funky16corners.wordpress.com/2008/07/20/chuck-carbo-rip/ ). This is one funky-ass jam.

July 16: Jo Stafford. A singer of pop standards in the late 40s/early 50s. Best known for her hit version of the WWII ballad "You Belong To Me". She was also half of the spoof musical duo "Jonathan & Darlene Edwards" (she was Darlene), in which she sang standards (again) calculatingly off-key while her real life husband, Paul Weston (d. 9/20/96), accompanied her on piano in a decidedly hack fashion. These songs were featured on 60's Detroit horror show "Sir Graves Ghastly" between film segments, with Sir Graves (d. 4/24/07) miming to the songs in drag as "Tillie Trollhouse".

July 21: Roy Shirley. A Trenchtown native, he was a part of Jamaica's first golden age of music. Back in 1967 he had the first big rocksteady hit, "Hold Them", produced by Joe Gibbs (d. 2/21/08).

July 22: Estelle Getty. Probably struggled many years as an actress, but became most famous as the Golden Girls' sassy octogenarian Sophia. She knew how to deliver the lines written for her character, one would only hope she was that tart in real life.

Now on to the wake!!

Everybody's Entitled To One

2008-07-16T23:09:00.000-07:00

I have a few trademark sayings - rejoinders may be more accurate; sure sounds spiffy - that make me me. For all I know, they may piss people off, but then any reaction is better than no reaction at all. One of my favorites is my response to visitors' farewell: "thanks for having me/us"; I say: "Thanks For Being Had". I absolutely love that one, don't let me catch you using it. Another fave, and this really isn't a rejoinder, just a real honest-to-goodness saying, is flexibly used with varied verbiage, but the gist of it is this: "heart attacks - everybody's entitled to one."

Recently I have applied this last bon mot to the 21st century version of the pacemaker, the iPod !!!

Everybody's entitled to one - nay, it's de rigeur!!!

I am sceptical of all technology when it first arrives on the scene. That's because I've worked in the technology field for the past 372 years, and have come to know that once all the saps have spent their money on "X" the very day it hits the shops, "X v.2" will be out in one or two months with all the bugs fixed. Common people are such lemmings.

My thing is: I just like stuff. Yeah, I know, that's brash & it rather smacks of gross consumerism, which I would appear to be against (but all the same, it's kinda Warhol-ish, too). But I am still really selective in my "stuff". And I just thought it might be time to have an iPod, regardless of the commercials that make me wanna learn how to pull a trigger.

So I got one for my birthday, and in my own fashion, it took me a week to even take it out of the box for real. And that was prompted by an impending visit from my son-in-law, who is a tech freak and can probably make one, McGiver-style.

I really got into loading it. That process is just as cool as actually listening to it. I have 1500 songs on it so far (it says it will take 3.5 days to run through them all), and it's always in shuffle mode. I have deleted & added songs here & there, & currently have the best summertime mix imaginable.

I don't "buy" songs from iTunes: f%$k that. I own 34,847 cds, no one has much of anything I want & don't already have (except maybe crazed James Brown-flavored African music from the 70s, and guess what, I just downloaded that today!). I just add selected tracks to the iTunes software I downloaded to my PC and keep a central playlist therein. Then the whole shebang gets transferred by dragging-and-dropping and, Bobs-yer-uncle, a 1500 song playlist no radio station in the world can match!

I use it in the car instead of a radio (which I never use anyway), and sometimes at work (when I'm not listening to my fave shows over the web), and I sleep with it most nights at the lowest possible volume. Obsessive? I guess. But I'll tell you this: I'll never be without one from now on.

How's that for an endorsement?

Chin - and batter - Up!

2008-07-15T21:39:00.000-07:00

There's really no reason for this brief, useless post. It's just that this photo, and a few others taken from the same event, have been nagging at me the past few days. And now I've finally figured it out...

Here's Norma Desmond, accompanied by hack writer Joe Gillis, played by William Holden stand-in Guy Himbo. She's ready for her close-up, but don't get too close, because her face may melt.

Whatever happened to the unibrow slut from Rochester who ran off to the Bronx so she could be a club kid?

Would You Believe It, I Have A Cold

2008-07-10T23:43:00.000-07:00

A great opportunity to use the title of an obscure Huey Smith & The Clowns single. Yes, the one and the same Huey Smith who is one of the Apostles of Nawlins music.

Yes, I do have a summer cold.

They say they're the worst, summer colds; I don't think that's due to their severity level. It's just that it's SUMMER. A cold is for February, so you can call in sick & get under the covers & eat soup & watch Road Runner cartoons.

Whatever. I'm still going to drink mojitos.

I've been sleeping alot. I don't even know if it's mojito-drinking weather or not.

I must be sick. It doesn't have to be a certain kind of weather to drink something.

This is turning into an extremely boring post. I think I'll close out for now.

Moondog, it's all your fault

2008-07-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

So I got the stupid bike. Actually, I like it alot. I'm not gonna say love, not just yet. But I'm in love with having it. Isn't that just so 21st-century-american-consumer?

I visited Cleveland this past weekend. What a nice city, from a tourist standpoint. (You never see the shitholiness of a place until you have to work & pay bills there) I went to the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, and found numerous errors in the information they bring to the unwashed masses. What a surprise. I was really moved by parts of an inductee film they showed. Great performances/artistry/music can choke me up. I was reminded of the fact (which I forgot) that The Ramones, The Clash, Elvis Costello and The Velvet Underground have all been inducted! But I was equally dismayed that The MC5, The Stooges, The New York Dolls and, geez, OK let's say Mitch Ryder have NOT. Other than ol' Mitchy-poo, the others were trailblazers, originators, and just plain super-duper. But you just can't deny Mitch's importance; I mean, the Rascals are in; the Righteous Brothers are in; what, no more blue-eyed soul? Maybe someone should play the jurors "Jenny Take A Ride" again. Oh well. that's my life in a nutshell! Oh yeah, another groovy thing from that inductee flick (which spotlit the gang from each year since 199?) was at the end of the 2006 segment, they just displayed the letter of response from The Sex Pistols, when they refused to be inducted and refused to participate. The place was silent, no soundtrack, no nothing, just enough time to read the letter; I applauded; my wife slapped my hands down.

And my visit to this bunker of rockroll big bizness reminded me of the Michael Shelley radio program (WFMU, what else) I listened to this past week. He was doing a 20 questions/actors studio thing with my favorite DJ, Dave The Spazz, & he asked Dave who the most overrated band was. Dave said "Beatles". Well, OK, I wouldn't totally disagree, because they were shitty musicians, but walking through the R&RHOF I was reminded of more obvious answers: U2, REM, Pink Floyd, Talking Heads, Eagles, Police ... they're just dire, yet they seem to evoke hushed tone reverence.

BUT - the weather was great, had a near-perfect pizza in Little Italy, and got to visit with my daughter & son-in-law. And summer is still going strong!

I HATE SUMMER

2008-06-29T22:10:00.001-07:00

Y'know that bike I've been waiting for? The one I alluded to in my last post so aptly titled "hot fun in the summertime"? The one I've been surfing the net reading about until I got to know it as well as it's manufacturers, getting into the "bike groove" searching for pictures of vintage bikes like the ones I had throughout my childhood, looking for boss accessories to enhance my biking experience...Well - I don't have it. The store - which, by the way, initially made quite an impression on me with its knowledgeable and friendly staff, their "hey-I'm-almost-white, dude" black staffers, their stock of really gassy rides and spiffy bells, seats, carriers and all the other crap they could've talked me into buying - well they dropped the ball completely. Customer service: zero. I was waiting for delivery from another shop. I had to call to see if it came in, every day, for three days. Then I had to call, for two days, to see if it was assembled & ready for pick-up. Then I had to call, again for two days, to see if the paint job that was botched would a)reduce the price and if so, I was OK with that, or b)when Electra - YEAH THAT'S RIGHT ELECTRA BIKES THE MAKERS OF MY "TOWNIE 3" (in red) - would get another bike to them. They never - NEVER - made any effort during any of this. And to top it off, every time I was talking to them, they asked if I was calling about MY WIFE'S BIKE WHICH WAS SITTING IN THE GARAGE!!! Needless to say I had to "pull Mr. Prick out of the box", which I don't really like doing because the older I get the more comfortable I get doing that which actually makes me more un-comfortable but hey I'm keeping it real.

So ... DO NOT EVER BUY ANYTHING FROM AMERICAN FITNESS / TREK BIKES, 18517 HALL RD AT THE CORNER OF ROMEO PLANK, MACOMB MICHIGAN 48044. THE MANAGER IS DAN AND HE'S A REAL TOOL.

Anyway, Saturday night I'm out with my brother-in-law (etc. but that's not the point) and I tell him I'm getting a new bike (ahem), and he says, "yeah, I got one, too - ever hear of a "Townie"? I went wacky!

I hope it snows.

Hot Fun In The Summertime

2008-06-26T22:50:00.000-07:00

I am just so ... summerized! I feel summer every living moment of every day! Summer is running through my veins like a coppertone & lime drip! June is ending, so there's no turning back, summer is upon us. I'm going on a mini-vacation next week (big-ass one in the fall), which besides seeing family will spotlight rock & roll (much bitching and eye-rolling I'm sure), I'm waiting for the delivery of a brand-spankin' new bike (red!!!), I've re-activated my dj skills in my basement (and I'm rockin'!), and I still have things to look forward to:

- my first mojito of the summer

- my first grown-up cigar of the summer (not the tiparellos I usually smoke)

- my first swim of the summer

- my first shut-off notice of the summer

I could go on & on (well maybe not, I've done a lot already). Summer is such a wonderful time, it's funny how we fuss over what amounts to about two months time. But there are so many small rewards during this season:

- morning commutes without school buses or moms dropping Dylan and Bethany off at school

- corn on the cob

- mojitos

- shades

- some (some, mind) groovy tunes that make you wanna eat a popsicle on the sand

- icy cold red stripe (yes mon!)

- sandals & shorts & t-shirts & bare feet

- open windows & doors

- water becomes a major player

- sunstroke

- mojitos

- baseball (yeah, I dig it now & then)

- the freaks come out at night (like I'd know, mr. suburbia)

- mojitos

Gee it all sounds so wonderful! It's too bad people are losing their jobs left & right, and that gas prices are at an all-time high, and that we lose a little more of our human rights with each tick of the clock.

But at least it's SUMMER!

What Did I Tell You?

2008-06-23T21:42:00.001-07:00

Now maybe you'll start taking me seriously.

SPREAD THE WORD

2008-06-18T23:22:00.001-07:00

I better start getting more readers & comments or Fido gets it.

Soul Power

2008-06-16T21:55:00.000-07:00

The title has nothing to do with this post (at this point); it's just that I was listening to "Double Barrel" by Dave Barker & Ansell Collins, a fantastic rocksteady scorcher from late 60s JA (did I squeeze in enough superlatives?), and one of Dave's toss-in remarks was "soul power!" So it hit - and stuck with - me.

Which reminds me: ever go to the "Roots Rock Reggae" website?

http://www.rootsrockreggae.com.jm/

You can listen to classic reggae all day & nite, with no interruptions. And it's none of the present-day crap that is so damn dire & US (read hippity-hoppity)-influenced. So it's non-stop ska, rocksteady, dub, rockers, lovers rock ... turn it up loud & open a Red Stripe: it's HOT in here!

As the kids all know, summer has its own soundtrack, and it's all very feel-good. splashy-splashy and breezy-cool (daytime) or sticky-hot (darktime). I discount it the rest of the year, but as the weather warms up I (slightly) embrace that leisure-based playlist. I can even tolerate Brian Wilson's beachy crap. And, to be sure, Jamaican music is an absolute must in the summertime.

I don't wanna write anymore. I wanna wriggle my toes in the sand.

! ! ! ? ! ? ? ! ! ! !!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-06-13T22:16:00.000-07:00

I love exclamation points! They make a common statement into something of world import! Just look at the following example:

Bless me father for I have sinned.

now:

Bless me father for I have sinned!

And when you add italics & boldness, it really sings:

Bless me father for I have sinned !

YEAH!! That's what I'm talkin' about! Who is that speaking? Manson? OJ? Cheney? Bill O'Reilly? Me??? YOW!!!!!

I had noticed while deciding to post another rip-snorter that all of the titles of my June postings so far had exclamation points! As today's teens say, Exclamation points rule!

Now on the other side of the coin, there are so many people I come in contact with that talk in what I call upspeak. I don't know what the actual term for this is, maybe "non-committal class-based arrogance", but I think it was perpetrated by the media. It's probably been around forever, but I seem to remember it taking a very noticeable place in the queue of life back in the '80s, so we'll blame it on Thirtysomething.

I have a co-worker that is an incessant upspeaker. It goes a little something like this:

"I'll be right back? I'm going to the ladies room?"

Bitch, how the f%*k do I know?

When it's used in making a point, it takes on a very real "you're kinda stupid? so I'll tell you this in a non-threatening tone? and maybe it will seep into your 'I-don't-use-a-pda' psyche?"

dig:

"This needs to be reviewed for errors? Because Mr. Jones has an important meeting in an hour?"

it's like explaining to a child: "blah blah blah blah - oohhhh-kaaaay? and maybe you'll get a cookie, mmm-kaaaay?""

If you realize you're doing this, and now you're catching yourself & your shit is all off & you're cursing me, then my job is done!

Oh yeah, by the way: a word about that photo at the top? Yes, that one? Aren't they special!!!!!!

Hey Lookit Me! Eat My Royal Shorts!

2008-06-12T01:36:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm going through another uninspired phase. Just give me a minute ...

Nope, not quite yet ...

Oh, alright, this seems kinda thin, and rather cheap shottish, but here goes:

If I see one more aging celeb with POINTED HAIR I'll learn how to pull a trigger. Yeah, I'm talking to YOU, Bono! I saw that hair on Travis' drummer in 1999! And those tinted glasses that you probably stole from your kid, act your age! And to top it off, his Gallic mug throwing peace signs with Africans, like he's Audrey Hepburn! Hate is a strong word, but on him it looks good!

And then there's Junior League millionaire-cum-Bono understudy Chris Martin from Coldplay, on the cover of Rolling Stone sporting the latest rockwear from Make Trade Fair clothiers. (it's a joke, don't wear your googler out)

And then I see a photo of Macca & Yoko front & center at a Stella McCartney fashion show. He of the boiled-egg puss, and her still flaunting those 40-long cans of hers like she's a Bond girl's granny. I can just imagine their conversation: "You know, Yoko, those are my daughter's creations you're gazing at" "You know, those are my creations you're gazing at". (actually, I had another snappy retort the likes of "those are my husband's creations you're living off of")

The cover of Interview Magazine: "Andy Is 80"! Yeah, and he's still relevant. Just goes to show you, start with stuff that's full of shit & you'll fit right in when everything dumbs down! (all kidding aside, I do admire him)

More Madge-Guy breakup rumors! Guess she's getting tired of him asking for an advance on his allowance all the time. (pay attention, Mariah...)

Who the f&#k is David Cross? Like I said, ...

Four of People's top five stories this week: "Jessica Alba has a baby girl"; "Tori Spelling has a baby girl"; "Angelina's twin pregnancy"; "Sarah Evans wants another baby". Question: what are you gonna do when those shoes go out of style?

Why am I even bothering with this stuff? I need a life.

Corpses On Parade!

2008-06-05T01:58:00.000-07:00

The number of famous people dying recently has been on the upswing. Of course there's Bo, who I spotlit in the previous post, and film cat Sydney Pollack, and the screamingly funny Harvey Korman, Yves St Laurent, Dick Martin of "Laugh-In" fame (how else might you know who I was talking about?) and Mel "yeah, I nailed Audrey Hepburn" Ferrer. But there's also Jimmy McGriff.

People occasionally confused Jimmy McGriff with Jimmy Smith; both were masters of the Hammond B3 organ, also they were childhood pals, but that wasn't the cause for confusion. It was the Jimmy/organ thing. This also happened with Lonnie 'Liston' Smith & 'Dr.' Lonnie Smith, also both jazzbos! And both keyboard players!! (while 'Liston' is strictly piano, the Dr. is strictly Hammond B3) (also I don't believe these last two were kidpals). True story: once in a record shop I inquired of the store manager about a certain lp by Charlie Parker, and she (who, by the way, was very VERY keen on the then-just-released lp "Boy" by U2 - haw haw haw!!) replied, "oh yeah, ol' Charlie Bird". And of course I immediately corrected her with "no, it's Charlie PARKER." She thought I was just being smarmy, but in actuality there IS a jazz guitarist named Charlie BYRD, and unless you spelled it out how would you know the difference in a conversation. They are NOWHERES NEAR similarityville. Just connected by the slightest thread of jazz-ism. (ps - Byrd is yawnsville IMHO, while Bird is god). Yeah, this is the same person that told a customer over the phone to come in & ask for her: "I'll be wearing black. I ALWAYS wear black." Whadda simp! So Jazz can be confusing, I guess.

So anyway, McGriff had a smokin' actual HIT with a two-part instro version of Ray Charles' "I Got A Woman" in about 1962. It is danceable, has a great beat, and just kicks right down the line. He also had another not-quite-so-big notable called "All About My Gal".

That was it for hits. He played with David "Fathead" Newman, Junior Parker, Buddy Rich, and even Dr Lonnie Smith!! He recorded a bunch of stuff that in recent years have become valuable to those who search out the rare groove/jazz breakbeat stuff from the 60s & 70s. Hey, it's groove-heavy B3, how can you go wrong?

So heaven must be a groovy place today, what with Bo Diddley's beat & Jimmy McGriff's groove, and Harvey Korman frugging in a dress at one of them Laugh-in type parties hosted by Dick Martin.