TOTAL MUSIC GEEK by Drew Kerr

Michael Jackson -- "Rock with You" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 02:25:00 +0000

My personal memories of Michael Jackson:

1) Sitting in the back of my camp bus with a bunch of kids singing "The Love You Save" over and over to the AM radio.

2) Watching the Jackson Five cartoon series on Saturday mornings.

3) Finding it hard to believe he'd have such a huge hit with a song about a mouse from a horror movie ("Ben").

4) Watching NBC-TV's "Motown 25 Special" where he moonwalked his way across the stage and blew the world's minds.

5) Always inserting "I Want You Back" on every one of my early 80's party tapes. Motown made a resurgence in when New Wave was in full force.

6) Although Thriller sold a bazillion copies, I always thought the one before it, Off The Wall, was better. Less theatrical, more gritty. Who could top the bass intro and whirling arrangement of the opening "Wanna Be Starting Something?"

That came very close to my favorite, "Rock With You," written by Rod Temperton. Just that little snare drum snap to attention intro, and you had to go dancing with Michael. Great vocal overdubs, chord combos, hiking up a half key, and you didn't have to moonwalk. Rolled up my blazer sleeves and got taken in.

Michael Jackson - Rock with you
Uploaded by Discodandan. - Watch more music videos, in HD!

"Worst Music Videos" blog up now

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 18:39:00 +0000

In the great musical video wasteland, there have been millions of dollars spent to sell songs which were truly ill-conceived, dated, and laughable.

Road kill on the MTV Highway.

WorstMusicVideos.com is dedicated to all those videos. So bad, you had to look.

The first two videos are primo examples:

1) Frank Stallone's "Far From Over" (1983)
2) The Fat Boys w/The Beach Boys' "Wipeout" (1987)

If you have any suggested videos that make you cringe or shake your head, please send them to totalmusicgeek@gmail.com. We'll eventually be doing a Hall of Fame.

Yes -- "Into The Lens"/"Tempus Fugit" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 01:11:00 +0000

Rock bands have replaced their lead singers with extremely mixed success, from total bombs (Gary Cherone in Van Halen, Ray Wilson in Genesis) to rare success (Brian Johnson in AC/DC, Sammy Hagar in Van Halen). Lead singers are so front and center that replacing one is a huge risk based on if the fans buy it or not.

Prog rock poster boys Yes did one of the strangest switches -- not because it lasted one album... not because it was the only one througth 19 studio albums -- but because after the new lead singer left the band, he came back three years later to produce their biggest hit song, with the original lead singer intact (Jon Anderson).

Anderson left Yes with heralded keyboardist Rick Wakeman in tow after the Tormato album. Anderson's falsetto was so incredibly distinct and identifiable with the band's sound, that replacing him would appear to be impossible. Yet, the unlikely replacement was Trevor Horn from the New Wave band The Buggles, best known for their iconic "Video Killed The Radio Star." Horn was the complete package too, bringing along his keyboardist Geoff Downes.

While we all know Horn now as one of the most influential and successful record producers of the 80's and 90's, back then, he was best known for his wide glasses and fronting his one-hit wonder band. Horn's vocals sounded remarkably like Anderson's except in a slightly lower register. Not only that, the resulting Drama album sounded like the band had not missed an unsually metered beat.

I like to call Drama the "fluke album" that worked, criminally overlooked compared to Yes' heralded first heyday of "I've Seen All Good People" and "Roundabout" to their later second wind with "Owner of A Lonely Heart" and "Love Will Find A Way."

Lightening up on the sci-fi lyrics, probably because of Horn replacing Anderson as a songwriter as well, the best two songs were "Into The Lens" and "Tempus Fugit," two epic tangles of storming Steve Howe guitars, Chris Howe's racetrack bass, epic openings, complex meters and especially with the former song, a strong melancholy melody. As with all Yes albums, you really had to listen, put on headphones ideally, and absorb all the fine little strokes of these fine musicians.

These two tracks hold up just as well as any of Yes' "greatest hits," yet they are brushed under the rug as if they never existed. Yet, they were a fascinating part of this band's history. As a matter of fact, if this collaboration lasted more than one album, it would have made an interesting alternative history for this pioneering band.

Yet, after the Drama tour, Horn and Downes retreated back into the Buggles, weirdly enough, and released a New Wave pop version of "Into The Lens" retitled "I Am A Camera" the following year. That flopped, the band dissolved, and in 1983, Horn emerged as the producer of Yes' colossal comeback album, 90215 with "Owner Of A Lonely Heart."

To mark this unusual detour for Yes, here are three videos: 1) The official (and unfortunately a bit grainy) "Into The Lens" 8-minute video, which is rather entertaining watching all these characters squashed a bit on stage, switching instruments, performing this prog rock epic; 2) The official "Tempus Fugit" video, with the vocoder "Yes, yes!" and reminiscent of the band's good old days, with plenty of split screens; and 3) The Buggles' "I Am A Camera," just to hear how they redid "Into The Lens" as a pop single.

Into The Lens @ Yahoo! Video

Dwight Twilley -- "Girls" (1984)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 30 May 2009 16:26:00 +0000

In the 80's, Tom Petty did a Quentin Tarantino by pulling some of his heroes out of the mothballs and reviving their careers. Tarantino did it with Pam Grier, John Travolta and Robert Forster. Petty revived the careers of Del Shannon ("Runaway"), Roy Orbison and Dwight Twilley.

Twilley was a die-hard rock and roll fundamentalist from Tulsa who believed in a few simple chords, a ridiculously catchy melody, thumping electric guitar notes, and plenty o'slapback reverb. Along with his buddy, drummer Phil Seymour, they had one huge classic hit, "I'm On Fire," and unfortunately fell victim to record company runarounds and rejections, so he was unable to follow-up his initial success. Seymour split and had a one-hit solo career around "Precious To Me."

Finally in 1984, after being tossed around record labels and finally landing on EMI America, Twilley, along with his amazing lead guitarist Bill Pitcock IV, put out his second big hit single, "Girls." Ironically following the musical blueprint he created several years before that, Petty's endorsement of his friend and contributing background vocals finally put Twilley back on the well-deserved map.

Yes, it's got about three chords, an insane guitar hook matched by the one-syllable chorus ("Girls!"), and just about nothing in common with the big-sounding artists of the day like Phil Collins, Wham, Van Halen and Duran Duran.

That was Twilley's last roll through the Top 40. Since then,he's put out a number of fine independent albums (including a couple of cover collections), and compilations of unreleased material.

Two fun videos below. The first, the official 80's style video, seemingly modeled on Van Halen's "Hot For Teacher," where it's all frisky babe cheerleaders with big hair cascading through the gym locker. The second, the required appearance on weekly music TV show "Solid Gold," all rolled up jacket sleeves, lip-synched away, while Tom Petty's distinct nasal background vocals drift over the audio.

England Dan & John Ford Coley -- "I'd Really Love To See You Tonight" (1976)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 22:13:00 +0000

Just a short post about one of the 70's soft rock classics from this duo, who cranked out a bunch of them.

Dan Seals, the "England Dan" half, just died of cancer at 61 years old. He was the brother of Jim Seals of another famous pair, Seals & Crofts. Not that I had any great connection to him, but I did feel sad because England Dan and John Ford Coley were just so representative of that soft rock era.

England Dan & John Ford Coley sold a bazillion records and really were not known individually, like most soft rock acts (quick, name all three guys in America).

"I'd Really Love To See You Tonight" was just so gosh darn earnest and sensitive ("We can go walking through a windy park/Take a drive along the beach?"), and the music just so catchy and compact, that it actually remained sort of a cult sing-along favorite for many years afterward. You can even find the song in karaoke bars.

Here, with Wolfman Jack doing the intro, are England Dan and John Ford Coley performing "I'd Really Love To See You Tonight" on the Midnight Special TV show. Rest in peace.

The Replacements -- "I'll Be You" (1989)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 20:59:00 +0000

Coming late to the dinner table again, like the Dictators, I didn't seriously listen to the Replacements until Don't Tell A Soul, which turned out to be the next to last for the band. Warner Brothers mailed me the CD since those were the days I was still at Radio City Music Hall and my connections with the record biz were at their height.

I paid attention to this record for two reasons: I saw R.E.M.'s engineer and co-producer Scott Litt produced this album, and I read about singer/songwriter Paul Westerberg's affection for Elton John. The band was already a longtime critics' favorite and there was a mystique with Westerberg ever since they named the high school after him in the dark comedy film "Heathers."

I listened to this album straight through many times because while the music could have easily matched the Rolling Stones at their swaggering Exile On Main Street best, the lyrics were touching, emotional, and self-deprecating. As I would continue discovering from his later solo albums, Westerberg was a master of the cutting phrase, eminently more quotable than most garage-influenced rock bands.

When the Replacement used this album as their bid for more commercial success, they chose a producer who balanced the previous "dirt" with far better recording techniques. Litt tamed Westerberg's vocal wildness while positioning the guitars distinctly and warming them up.

"I'll Be You" could rival any Jagger/Richards collaboration. Litt cleverly moves the crunchy guitar chords into their own ear space, placing them on the downbeat between words, perfectly positioned for air guitar. You're definitely not used to hearing power chords on that beat, but it works as a musical underline to me. If you love great sounding guitars, with a little Ian McLagen-ish boogie piano, this is definitely your song.

But the words... Westerberg never fails to make you think with his clever phrasing. The Replacements were one of the ultimate 80's cult bands, never selling more than those kinds of numbers. Don't Tell A Soul never quite pushed them over the top, despite the relative success of "I'll Be You." There was a weariness to these lyrics, "running their last race," yet a defiance because if it was "just a game," they were "bleedin' but not cut."

If it's a temporary lull
why'm I bored right outta my skull?
Man, I'm dressin' sharp an' feelin' dull.

Lonely, I guess that's where I'm from
If I was from Canada
then I'd best be called lonesome.

And if it's just a game
Then I'll break down just in case
Hurry up, we're runnin' in our last race.

Well, I laughed half the way to Tokyo
I dreamt I was Surfer Joe
An' what that means, I don't know.

A dream too tired to come true
Left a rebel without a clue
And I'm searching for somethin' to do.

And if it's just a game
Then we'll hold hands just the same
So what, we're bleeding but we ain't cut.

And I could purge my soul perhaps
For the imminent collapse.
Oh yeah, I'll tell you what we could do...
You be me for a while
I'll be you.

A dream too tired to get to (come true)
Left a rebel without a clue
Won't you tell me what I should do?

And if it's just a lull
why'm I bored right outta my skull?
Oh yeah, keep me from feeling so dull

And if it's just a game
Then we'll break down just in case
Then again, I'll tell you what we could do
You be me for a while...
You be me for a while...
I'll be you.

The Replacements I'll Be You
Uploaded by Celtiemama

New Order -- "60 MPH" (2001)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 07 Mar 2009 23:49:00 +0000

Isn't it crazy that this was the first New Order album I bought, after they put out like a dozen, right? It was one of those stars aligning kind of things because I bought it without hearing one song, but somehow I felt compelled to buy this one after reading reviews in the UK music magazines and I just felt I had to. Wouldn't the record industry love for me to have this urge more often?

I always loved some of New Order's classic singles like "True Faith," "Bizarre Love Triangle" and "Love Vigilantes," so I knew they program some terrific beats, shoved Peter Hook's electric bass front and center, and layer plenty of simple synth lines.

I call Get Ready "the album where New Order discovered electric guitar" because I had never heard them so prominently on any earlier album. Overdriven chords and arpeggios all over the place, and they fit in perfectly with their dance-driven music.

The one song that caught me immediately and I still can't get enough of is "60 MPH." If I could have sequenced this album, this would have been the lead track and first single. It has an actual intro of a solo analog chord waving through a filter sweep, attacked out of nowhere by the biggest, fattest guitar hook on the entire record, the drum machine practically flying off the beat.

This is the best, and maybe the only driving song New Order ever recorded. It speeds along so off the handle with a relentlessly unforgettable singalong chorus, that it really is made for loud accompaniment on the road.

I don't know if I told you,
But I'm seeking sanctuary.
You'd never guess the things that I do,
I've had the devil around for tea.

Don't you know that I'm here beside you?
Can't you see that I can't relax?
When I saw you in my rear view,
You could have stopped me in my tracks.

I'll be there for you when you want me to.
I'll stand by your side like I always do.
In the dead of night it'll be alright.
Because I'll be there for you when you want me to.

You could take me to an island.
Ride across a stormy sea.
We could worship pagan idols.
There together you and me.
Why don't you run over here and rescue me?
You could drive down in your car.
Why don't we both take a ride and turn that key,
We'll drive at sixty miles an hour.

I'll be there for you when you want me to
I'll stand by your side like I always do
In the dead of night it'll be alright
Because I'll be there for you when you want me to.

Tonight, I was playing the song with my son in the car and noticed that the relatively simple guitar solo (a rare New Order occurance) was also filtered from the beginning, starting sort of muffled and echo-ey and then sharp and high by the end. You don't know how many times I wish that the solo was a real cranked-up distorted frenzy because the chords are the perfect kind to solo over. But less is more with New Order -- not only is the solo cool and sedate, but all the other breaks are walls of synth chords, different from the ones used throughout the song, basically taking the whole thing to lift-off!

So here are two videos of this song made for the car: the official video, which of course features lots of cool driving shots cut with a dorky guy in a bear suit (!)... and then the band souping up the song live on Jool Holland's "Later" TV show. Man, what a performance. It's a good thing they discovered their electric guitars for this record because it makes a song like this even more exciting live . What I would give to see them reunite in concert here if it's anything like this segment.

Ultravox -- "Reap The Wild Wind" (1982)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 00:49:00 +0000

Big hair, big synths -- it must be the 80's! Along with Spandau Ballet, Ultravox ushered in the New Romantics part of the New Wave era with their grand gestures, very image conscious appearances, dramatic song styles, and load and load and loads of synths!

After s handful of albums led by John Foxx, the band hit its pop stride when the charasmatic mustached singer/songwriter Midge Ure joined and took the spotlight. Never enjoying the commercial breakout that Spandau Ballet did in the US with their True album, Ultravox was very much a European confined phenomenon.

They coaxed Sir George Martin of Beatles fame into producing Quartet. Considering that outside of the Fab Four, he didn't produce many other acts (America, Jeff Beck), I'd consider this quite an accomplishment and an interesting match. With electronics their primary musical tool (and a live drummer - yay for them), you'd be hard pressed to find exactly what George Martin's touch was on the album.

Yet, this became their most commercially successful album. "Reap The Wild Wind" launched Quartet with its solo hi-hat and then a wash of those synths to a galloping beat. Ure's vocals eerily resemble David Bowie on this song, who had a tendency to croon his singing, along with the echoed whispers. "Reap The Wild Wind" sounds very wide and cinematic, romping quickly and repetitively, twisting and turning. As pioneered in a song like Gary Numan's "Cars," the multiple keyboard pads and strings dominated the melody with a huge hook of its own.

Reap the wild wind.
Reap the wild wind.
Reap the wild wind.

A finger points to show a scene. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another face where mine had been. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Another footstep where I once walked. (Take my hand)
Take it all.

You take my hand and give me your friendship.
I'll take my time and send you my slow reply.
Give me an inch and I'll make the best of it.
Take all you want and leave all the rest to die.

Reap the wild wind.

A footprint haunts an empty floor. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
A fading coat that I once wore. (Take my hand. Take my hand.)
Oh, desolation where I once lived.
I have seen in times gone by.
I have felt a different shadow on the wall,
A stranglehold on a certain feeling.

With Ultravox, Ure became a UK national treasure, eventually releasing successful solo albums, while in 1984, co-writing that holiday perennial, "Do They Know It's Christmas," even singing one of the lines. I saw him open an INXS concert at Radio City Music Hall in the late 80's and he stole the show, practically being begged to do multiple encores.

The Thorns -- "Runaway Feeling" (2003)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 20:24:00 +0000

After writing about the British supergroup Electronic recently (Bernard Sumner and Johnny Marr with the Pet Shop Boys), here's an American supergroup of a much quieter nature, but no less powerful.

The Thorns were completely molded in the spirit of Crosby, Still & Nash, three brilliant individual talents with the emphasis on three-part harmonies on all the vocals and lots of acoustic instruments that combined together truly worked.

However, unlike CSN, where the members were on their way "up," the Thorns were three guys who'd pretty much been around for substantial, even long, amounts of time, had one Top 40 hit between them (not that that matters), and somehow found the time to do an album that was anything but surefire.

The Thorns consisted of power pop maestro Matthew Sweet, gritty singer/songwriter Shawn Mullins ("Lullaby"), and Pete Droge, whom I had never heard of. But anything Sweet is involved with gets my attention. They were joined by Atlanta-based producer Brendan O'Brien, who produced a couple of early Sweet albums and recently did the last two Bruce Springsteen records.

O'Brien seems to have taken an active role in the proceedings, producing a pristine throwback acoustic rock and folk record where you never hear any one singer solo, but always all three at the same time. In an unlikely move, the major label Columbia Records picked it up for distribution.

"Runaway Feeling," the album's lead track, is all bouncing major key guitars and mandolins, a perfect upbeat summer pop track. In 2003, nothing like this would have a snowball's chance in hell of being a hit, but who cares? This is just a great song, almost from another more progressive era, done in a style that you'd need to dig up on an indie label if you knew about it.

Somehow, I hope these three find the time to record another treat of an album.

Since this album's release, I saw Shawn Mullins perform at the Pleasantville Music Festival in summer 2007. If all you knew him by was that one-off megahit "Lullaby," like I did, you've got to try and catch him perform live. He's a husky fellow who writes some really powerful songs and does it all solo.

Below is the band performing "Runaway Feeling" live on the German TV show Rockpalast.

Fountains of Wayne -- "Radiation Vibe" (1996)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 00:47:00 +0000

Smart ass rock grew like weeds in the mid-90's. These are bands that were the equivalent of the smart kids you went to high school with who seemed to pick up on every cool cultural reference and then use it as a sarcastic weapon to make fun of the jocks and punks behind their backs.

That's when Weezer, Ween, The Presidents of the United States, Nada Surf, and their brethren came out of the woodwork, almost as a reaction to the loud, unruly grunge craze that preceded it.

If you look back, some of these bands are still around and kicking, quite successfully too, although not on a massive breakthrough basis. They inspire feverish cults and once in a while, throw off an actual top 40 single, like Weezer's "Beverly Hills" and Fountains of Wayne's "Stacy's Mom."

So when Fountains of Wayne broke out of the gate with "Radiation Vibe," they could have been any one of the other really good smart ass bands. I bought the debut album it came from as a used copy, and frankly, I'm a nut for good power pop so there was no way this could lose.

My description of "Radiation Vibe" to my friends was "the Cars meet The Ramones." This first record was little rawer than the ones that followed, but the super-hook songwriting was already in place. Later on, FOW polished up their act and blatantly milked their love of the Cars for "Stacy's Mom," right down to the rigid 4/4 beat and hand claps.

Even to this day, "Radiation Vibe" makes no sense at all, thumping along with its fuzzy envelopey guitar chords, but when the electric guitars and drums landslide in for the pre-chorus ("And now it's time to say/What I forgot to say") and then the 60's-modeled chorus, you've got to sing along to the stupid words. Songwriters Adam Schlesinger and Chris Collingwood perfected their characters and song punch lines album by album, but this one was like a wacko fluke that just worked.

Are you alone now
Did you lose the monkey
He gave you backaches

And now you slouch.

He didn't mean it
He's just a dumb ape
Reading Playboy
On your couch.

And now it's time to say
What I forgot to say.
Baby baby baby
Come on, what's wrong
It's a radiation vibe I'm groovin on.
Don't it make you want to get some sun
Shine on, shine on, shine on.

I went to Pittsburgh
And joined a pro team
Talk about a bad dream
I broke a knee.

But I can still croon
And make the girls swoon
Isn't that the way life's
Supposed to be.

But now it's time to say
What I forgot to say
Baby baby baby
Come on, what's wrong
It's a radiation vibe I'm groovin on
Don't it make you want to get some sun
Shine on, shine on, shine on
Shine on, shine on, shine on

The video is typical of that smart ass buzz that was typical of the times. Feet tapping in time while others are nailed to the floor, some weird scenes that seem inspired by "Eraserhead," and a Rod Serling look-alike with a cigarette in hand with swirling black and white backdrop.

Fountains Of Wayne - Radiation Vibe
Uploaded by jesus_lizard

Hipsway -- "The Honeythief" (1986)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 17:38:00 +0000

After spotting this CD secretly stashed in my friend's collection last night, I have decided to honor this prototypical New Wave one hit wonder single.

With the British taking American black soul styles and churning them back out for numerous New Wave hits (i.e. Paul Young, Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran, Phil Collins, etc.), Hipsway snuck in there at the end of the era for this dark white funk hit.

As a matter of fact, Hipsway remind me of Duran Duran for their clipped lyrics and sustained, snakey lead vocals. Besides all the catchiness and danceability in a mere 3 minutes and 15 seconds, the song's aura definitely comes from Grahame Skinner's deep menacing baritone lead vocals. When you are oozing out a song about the not-very-subtle "honeythief" of the title, that kind of tone is enough to excite all the girls who were listening in!

Sleek big cat, bible black
Honeysuckle I would never deny

The light of deep regret
Let me see what I don't get
The light of deep regret
Let me see what I don't get

Pass through the heat
Come on, come on and pass
Through the heat
Catch a thief, a honeythief
I am a thief, a honeythief

That's the price you pay
When love gets in the way
Stealth in the night
I come to steal with stealth
In the night
You got the sugar to satisfy
I am the man you can never deny

They sure knew had to make great singles in those days. The whooshing organ that comes out of nowhere for the middle break, the black background singers on the chorus, and that funky guitar line that rips off Spandau Ballet's "Chant No. 1."

But Hipsway was more than that one single. Like my friend, I also have that debut album which contained terrific singles that made it far bigger in the UK than the US, like "Broken Years" and the even more menacing "Ask The Lord."

In the official video, there's some vaguely weird about the African native clips cut in with the band performing and Skinner's strutting around.

The Dictators -- "Who Will Save Rock and Roll?" (2001)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 04:03:00 +0000

Kudos to Little Steven's Underground Garage channel on Sirius Satellite Radio to get me into New York City's other proto punk group many, many years after they first arrived on the scene.

I don't know why I never got into the Dictators. Probably like everybody else in the 70's, the record company botched promoting them, they weren't played on the radio and for some reason, nobody else had the decency to turn me on to them.

Yet, the Dictators put out their first studio album in decades in 2001 and Little Steven had the superior taste to put some of the tunes on the playlist. Even if you never heard any of their previous Epic and Elektra albums from their heyday, and I hardly knew them myself, the DFFD album was a blazing rock and roll statement that basically ignored if any other style of music ever existed.

Primal yet well-recorded, loud, and funn,y The Dictators broke everything down to its basics. Not just with their instrumental makeup -- your basic guitars, bass and drums -- and no synths or keyboards. The subject matter: the rawness and beauty of rock and roll conquers all.

The first song I heard from the album on Little Steven was "Savage Beat," an ode to the "primitive sound" packed with brilliant Flintstones references. Soon enough, it was life down on "Avenue A" and the catch-phrase happy "What's Up With That?"

Yet, the album's... and the Dictators'... statement of purpose opened up the whole escapade with "Who Will Save Rock and Roll?" The overdriven guitar notes lovingly ripping-off The Clash's cover version of "Police On My Back," lead singer Handsome Dick Manitoba sounds like an angry thug on the warpath, wailing on about the loss of the greatness of the music he loves.

I fall to my knees
and look to the sky.
Who will save rock and roll?

Murray The K, is not here today.
so who will save rock and roll?

Every protest singer.
every guitar slinger.
every punk rock sinner sells his soul.

My generation is not the salvation
so who will save rock and roll?

I saw The Stooges, covered with bruises
who will save rock and roll?

Every mercenary
Three chord revolutionaries.
Choose your side and choose it well.

June 1st, '67... something died and went to heaven.
I wish Sgt Pepper
never taught the band to play.

My generation
is not the salvation.
so who will save,
who will save...
tell me who will save
rock and...... roll!?

We've all had favorite guitar players, but a listen through "Who Will Save Rock and Roll" and the rest of DFFD record convinced me that the band's Ross The Boss (yes!) can swing that high gain axe through the Marshalls about as good as anybody. You begin to sympathize with that opening anthem because how often do you hear an album full of amazing raw rock and roll like this one in this day and age?

I found out over the next several years that some of these songs were re-recordings from earlier band and solo albums, including "Who Will Save Rock and Roll?" I had to go back and check out the early Dictators albums, such as their Epic debut from 1975, The Dictators Go Girl Crazy!! when Handsome Dick had a colossal afro and they were known for their irreverent cover of the Riveras' "California Sun" and whacked out punk classic "Cars and Girls."

It was only tonight that I finally found out that DFFD stood for Dictators Forever Forever Dictators. Here they are in 1999 in Detroit, raising the roof.

Lloyd Cole -- "She's A Girl and I'm A Man" (1991)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 01:20:00 +0000

Lloyd Cole is the true definition of an adult rock cult artist.

In the mid-80's, Lloyd Cole and the Commotions had a good success ride overseas with their folk/rock blend of Dylan and the Talking Heads. Cole stuffed a lot of words into stream of consciousness songs like "Perfect Skin" at almost early Springsteen-like levels. In States, the band was strictly under the radar.

By the time he ditched the Commotions and released his second solo album, Don't Get Weird On Me Babe, Cole had moved to the United States and recruited some of the same brilliant musicians who played on Matthew Sweet's classic power pop album, Girlfriend, like Fred Maher and Robert Quine. It may not have been a coincidence, since he was definitely aiming for some kind of crossover success, betting on intelligent guitar-driven power pop and ballads, so why not employ a similar cast?

His real gambit was the single "She's A Girl and I'm A Man," a clever tale of turning the tables sexism that probably went over the heads of many listeners not hip to the lyric's irony. Thankfully, alternative radio and college programmers got the message and dug the big echoey guitar riffs, mammoth melody and four on the floor drums.

When you first listen, you think some of the words are a bit harsh, but then you realize there's a lot more going on. The song pries into the male psyche of putting women down, getting hitched, only to find out that his wife is sharper than him: "You're not cool, you're just like me, you're a stupid man...." With lyrics this subtle, you had to listen to it a couple of times to appreciate Cole's ambitious songwriting craft.

She said she didn't understand him so she guessed he was deep.
He swore he'd never been to college and was too tall to be.
So as she led him to the slaughter thinking she'd be laughing last.
Now the lady in the question is his better half.

She's got to be the stupidest girl I've ever seen.
She don't care who, why, or where I've been.
She's got a right to be, with all that's wrong with me.
But she doesn't want to understand .
That she's a girl and I'm a man.

He thought that women and drink would make a man out of him.
But the extent of his studies left a jaded man.
So as she led him to the altar he was easily led.
And when they asked him if he did, well then, this is what he said.

Every time she's near me
She gives me a new reason to be alive
To try to get right
She looks right through me
She says you're not cool, you're just like me
You're a stupid man
Get over here, hold my stupid hand
She's all right...

If you're morose over the deteriorating state of adult rock music, then do yourself a favor and have your faith restored by buying a used copy of Don't Get Weird On Me Babe. Enjoy the video here on You Tube (there's no embed code, unfortunately) and the beautiful gold hollow body guitar Cole plays in it.

Electronic -- "Getting Away With It" (1989)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 08 Feb 2009 03:18:00 +0000

A British music supergroup teaming Bernard Sumner of New Order with former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr, Electronic was more of a cult item in the US as opposed to the total embracing the UK gave it.

No wonder. Taking its cues mostly from New Order, the duo did all the programming and songwriting, emphasizing electro-style dance music with acid house touches. Their debut album opened with Marr's distorted wah wah to the disco beat of "Idiot Country," followed by song after song of distinct high hat patterns mixed up front and layered with synths.

Electronic follows in the tradition of solo projects veered into successful partnerships, the most famous one being when Kenny Loggins "sat in" for Jim Messina's solo album in the early 70's, resulting in a string of hit albums together. Vocalist Sumner had planned a solo album, asked Marr to join him, and together they produced three albums over an eight-year period.

What really made Electronic's debut special were their two collaborations with the Pet Shop Boys' Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe, "The Patience of a Saint" and especially "Getting Away With It." The latter was a single released in 1989, well ahead of the full 2001 album, and it's a shame Tennant and Lowe didn't do the whole album with them. Now that would have been a super-super group and one wonders what that combination of talent would have been on an ongoing basis.

"Getting Away With It" is equal doses of all the brilliant talents involved -- Sumner's emotionally bleak lyrics, Marr taking a rare guitar solo, Neil Tennant's background vocals mixed at the same levels as Sumner's, and a polished melody that could only come from the pop skills of the Pet Shop Boys.

Primed by the organic combo of an actual electric bass and an acoustic piano pounding out the chords, "Getting Away With It" glides on a mid-tempo bed of strings, surging with bells on the chorus (a Pet Shop Boys arrangement trademark) and Marr's lovely acoustic guitar solo.

I've been walking in the rain just to get wet on purpose
I've been forcing myself not to forget just to feel worse
I've been getting away with it all my life (getting away)

However I look it's clear to see
That I love you more than you love me

I hate that mirror, it makes me feel so worthless
I'm an original sinner but when I'm with you I couldn't care less
I've been getting away with it all my life
Getting away with it all my life

I thought I gave up falling in love a long long time ago
I guess I like it but I can't tell you, you shouldn't really know
And it's been true all my life
Yes, it's been true all my life

I've been talking to myself just to suggest that I'm selfish
(Getting ahead)
I've been trying to impress that more is less and I'm repressed
(I should do what he said)

I remember that after the time of this single, Marr contributed another wah wah rhythm guitar to the Pet Shop Boys' incredible decade-introspective single "Being Boring" from their album Behaviour.

For appreciators of sophisticated electro-pop, if you are a fan of New Order and Pet Shop Boys especially, you want to track this debut album down for a cheap used copy. With New Order currently broken up, it's hard not to wish Sumner would find himself with Tennant and Lowe and cut a whole album together.

Joe Jackson -- "Sunday Papers" (1979)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 21:22:00 +0000

Late 70's England was a hotbed of angry young musical men, from the Sex Pistols' Johnny Rotten to the bespectacled and obsessed Elvis Costello. Joe Jackson came off this factory line too, but he abhorred the "new wave" tag and was very vocal about not being associated with Costello.

However, they both shared a penchant for biting satire and shifting musical styles like the weather. While Costello was all sexual frustration, voyeurism, and twisted psyche, Jackson had a comical purview of workaday England and going out for a pint.

His breakneck debut, Look Sharp!, fit into that nice neat short New Wave pop song blueprint of the time, and rarely has one just enjoyed the ride from the musical start. His signature hit, "Is She Really Going Out With Him," still resonates today and my young daughter loved it the moment she heard it for the first time.

When I played her the follow-up single, "Sunday Papers," which I've heard many countless times, I suddenly noticed that wonderful aggressive bass playing from Graham Maby. I don't know why I always took it for granted, but his counterpoint to the opening rhythm guitar chords was killer. But it didn't stop there. Maby's all over the place between the verses that it's practically a showcase for him as opposed to any other band member.

Jackson's band exemplified the sorely missed stripped down nature of the New Wave/punk movement, where all you needed were four musicians -- a drummer, two guitarists and a singer -- to get the point across.

I remember a cultural fascination with the tabloids began around this time and through the early 80's'. It was hip to dig them. Once the Talking Heads incorporated their aesthetic on their album and movie True Stories, that cemented it. However, you've got to credit Joe Jackson for taking a brilliantly funny icy look at them.

Mother doesn't go out any more,
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes.
But every weekend through the door,
Come words of wisdom from the world outside.

If you want to know about the bishop and the actress,
If you want to know how to be a star.
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, Sunday papers.

Mother's wheelchair stays out in the hall,
Why should she go out when the TV's on?
Whatever moves beyond these walls,
She'll know the facts when Sunday comes along.

If you want to know about the man gone bonkers,
If you want to know how to play guitar.
If you want to know about the other suckers,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.

Sunday papers don't ask no questions.
Sunday papers don't get no lies.
Sunday papers don't raise objection.
Sunday papers don't got no eyes.

Brother's heading that way now I guess,
He just read something made his face turn blue.
Well I got nothing against the press,
They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true.

If you want to know about the gay politician,
If you want to know how to drive your car.
If you want to know about the new sex position,
You can read it in the Sunday papers, read it in the Sunday papers.

Jackson's first two albums were pretty much all of one piece, clever pop songs with his crack band (I saw Maby many, many years later accompanying Marshall Crenshaw at a small club in Piermont, NY). He then chucked that model, saw the reggae light for Beat Crazy and then did another left turn into swing for Jumping Jive, and yet again towards Cole Porter with Night And Day. He had more in common with Costello's stylistic shifts than he thought.

So let's take a look at the young Joe Jackson, smirking, on top of the world, performing "Sunday Papers" on the UK TV program, "Old Grey Whistle Test."

Joe Jackson - Sunday Papers
Uploaded by ZzeMann

OMD - "(Forever) Live and Die" (1986)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 03:18:00 +0000

There were only a few truly impressive synthpop bands who gave us more than one classic single, such as the still-running Depeche Mode, New Wave poster boys Naked Eyes ("Promises, Promises," "Always Something There To Remind Me"), the campy Erasure ("Ship of Fools," "Stop," "Chains of Love") and the hyper-romantic Orchestral Manoevres in the Dark, thankfully shortened eventually to OMD.

That band name had an interesting role in the band's evolution. When they first started out with that long moniker, they were quite artsy and obtuse. They pulled off one hit New Wave single in 1980, "Enola Gay," with its repetitive early drum machine pattern, and everything that followed after that was not very accessible.

It wasn't until a few years later that they probably realized they could either continue toiling as a cult artsy synth band in their native England or remember that they were a synthpop band or go for the big time. They decided on the latter, upgraded their production, sharpened their songwriting, hired synthpop producer wunderkind Stephen Hague and boy, did the tables turn around. It probably helped their image that they became better known as OMD at that time.

While OMD will go down in 80's rock history for their most successful single, "If You Leave" from the Pretty in Pink soundtrack, they had other fantastic pop songs that charted such as "Secret" and "So In Love."

"(Forever) Live and Die," their "If You Leave" follow-up single had an unusual loping shuffle beat, which was unheard of for a song in this genre. The leisurely pace brought you along with simple chord arrangements, proving once again that you can write the best pop songs with just a few chords, as long as the melody works.

Andy McCluskey's vocals float all over the place, with layers and layers of harmonies over that chorus. They say pop music is all about repetition, and this was synthpop repetition at its most mesmerizing, so you could not get it out of your head.

People like
I never know, I never know, I never know why-y-y.
You make me wanna cry.
I never know, I never know, I never know why-y-y.
Forever live and die.

Watching the video reminds me of all the 80's English bands fronted by two guys, like Tears for Fears, Go West, and Naked Eyes.

Steppenwolf -- "Sookie, Sookie" (1968)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 22:18:00 +0000

Steppenwolf is the most criminally overlooked hard rock band of the 60's. Or should I say, "heavy metal," since I do believe they were the first band to not only use it in a song ("Born To Be Wild"), but they embodied the term first.

Astonishingly, they are not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and this has got to change.

This was not a cult band, but one that had huge hits and a couple of well-stocked greatest hits compilations. Yet, the closest Steppenwolf has ever been given a tribute was Blue Oyster Cult's animated covers that they performed in concert and on their 1975 live album On Your Feet Or On Your Knees. This connection is no coincidence, as BOC clearly was directly musically connected to the primal roar of Steppenwolf.

Fronted by the always-in-shades John Kay (born in Germany with the much more complicated name of Joachim Krauledat), Steppenwolf was a blues-based hard rock band that had a lot of soul, a characteristic that was way ahead of its time. They sometimes could actually bring on the R&B in their tidal wave of Marshall amplification and Goldy McJohn's glorious organ, and there was no better example than the first song from their debut album, "Sookie, Sookie."

Co-written by longtime soul songwriter Don Covay ("Chain of Fools"), "Sookie, Sookie" was all shuffle rhythm made for the 60's dance floor, much like the popular fad dances like The Watusi and The Swim. Steppenwolf just lays three heavy opening chords (for no apparent reason), and segues into pure heavy metal party funkiness, hitting that major 7th chord nearly the entire song long, and going up a key at the end.

Combining hard rock and funk were almost unheard of at that time. This was almost as monumental as Run DMC rapping their way into heavy metal with Aerosmith in "Walk This Way" in 1986. Yet, Steppenwolf didn't give up its rock cred at all when they released "Sookie, Sookie" as a single right after the iconic "Born To Be Wild."

The hip hop/rap connection to Steppenwolf stretched on years later, as "Magic Carpet Ride" was sampled and covered by Grandmaster Flash ("The Message") in 1987.

Here are two videos from 1968, and of course what caught my attention are those Rickenbackers on rhythm and bass! Who said Ricks had to be just the jangly Byrds tone? The color one features lots of groovy threads but the big question is whose party has Steppenwolf as the house band? Lucky them. Then there's a splendid black and white appearance on the British TV show "Beat Club."

The Vapors -- "Turning Japanese" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 00:35:00 +0000

The absolute ultimate skinny tie New Wave one hit wonder band (and song) has to be this one by The Vapors, who came and went with this enduring power pop classic.

Leaving no Asian cliche unturned, this ultra-catchy guitar pop tune actually has lyrics worth analyzing because they are just freaky, bizarre and pretty funny. Let's just start right there:

I've got your picture of me and you,
You wrote I love you I love you too.
I sit there staring and there's nothing else to do.
Oh it's in color, your hair is brown,
Your eyes are hazel and soft as clouds.
I often kiss you when there's no one else around .

I've got your picture, I've got your picture,
I'd like a million of them all round my cell.
I asked the doctor to take your picture,
So I can look at you from inside as well.
You've got me turning up and turning down,
And turning in and turning round.

I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
I'm turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.
Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so.

No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women,
No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark.
Everyone around me is a total stranger,
Everyone avoids me like a cyclone ranger, everyone.

The guy is clearly in an asylum, locked away and going nuts without his girlfriend (if she's even real), and now he's "turning Japanese?" With the whole Oriental octave guitar riffs to add to the whole cliche?

The killer line is "I asked your doctor to take your picture/So I can look at you from inside as well." Hmm, now just what does that imply?

Because of the tongue-in-cheek nature of "Turning Japanese," I don't think it cause much of a racial stir back then. But I wonder if the song was released now, or even covered by another band, would the political correctness police come storming down on it?

I mentioned the song to my Japanese physical therapist, and not only had he not heard of the song, he was kind of amused somebody wrote a song with that title. I don't know how he'd feel if he heard the lyrics and watched the video, but I am going to find a way.

The Vapors - Turning Japanese
Uploaded by mg217

Tears For Fears -- "Sowing The Seeds of Love" (1989)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 01:36:00 +0000

What if you had a worldwide smash album and your record company basically handed you a blank check for the follow-up?

Tears for Fears had this opportunity after Songs From The Big Chair, and they spent it, all right. This multi-million bomb of an album that took four years to make was an overindulgent frozen rock that perhaps signaled an end to kitchen-sink productions like The Seeds of Love.

I was hanging out with the guys who worked at Sam Ash on Queens Boulevard when somebody said to check out the new Tears For Fears song. People accuse Oasis of lifting from the Beatles, but Tears for Fears crammed just about every psychedelic Beatles production trick in the book in this one 6 and a half minute song: flanged drums, megaphone vocals, backwards reverb, woodwind section, solo trumpet right out of "Penny Lane," the verses were close cousins to "I Am The Walrus," and screeching strings from that very same song.

Musical history is littered with rip-offs, and I actually like this song, despite the Fab Four lifts. It's still catchy and fun, but it goes on for far too long. It runs out of gas around the time the big organ chords come in at the 3:30 mark. If Tears for Fears lobbed about a minute to 90 seconds off "Sowing The Seeds of Love," they could have made their point and saved themselves thousands of dollars in production.

Somehow you feel that a ridiculous amount of music was left on the cutting room floor for "Sowing The Seeds of Love," but somehow through the magic of editing, they put it altogether for this epic mess. No surprise that the next record was a greatest hits compilation and the band's two members split apart, with Roland Orzabel continuing under the TFF name.

I liked Tears for Fears much better when they were suicidal and depressed on their first two albums. Some bands are meant to be that way.

The video for "Sowing The Seeds of Love" seems like a no-expense-spare effort as well. Once you get past Roland Orzabel's teeth for the first 45 seconds or so, it takes off into a dream-like New Age spaced out reverie that looks like Jim Morrison's peyote trips from Oliver Stone's film "The Doors."

Graham Coxon - "Spectacular" and "Freakin' Out" (2005)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 03:26:00 +0000

Recently, I had the pleasure of reacquainting myself with Graham Coxon's album by throwing it into my car's CD player and blasting it away.

Then by sheer coincidence, I was reading an interview with British guitar band producer Stephen Street (The Smiths, Blur, Kaiser Chiefs, The Cranberries) in Tape Op magazine this week and he spoke at length about producing Coxon, adding he thought Coxon was the best guitarist he'd ever worked with, even Johnny Marr.

Coxon is probably the most unassuming guitar god out there because he doesn't fit the mold. No long waving hair, extended solos, covers of Guitar World, and posters hung up in boys' bedrooms. He just plays like a monster and listening to Happiness in Magazines is definitive proof.

Coxon was famous Britpop band Blur's longtime guitarist until he split during the band's 2003 recording of Think Tank. He looks like a huskier version of Elvis Costello, hornshell glasses and all, wearing a stylish tie and jacket. His early solo albums passed under the radar, but producer Street changed that all dramatically when they collaborated on the terrific Happiness In Magazines.

Not to be confused with Britpop except in its melodic catchiness, the album was an assortment of mid-tempo English bloke tales of dating, working and being forced to grow up. Coxon was clearly more driven by the Kinks, pop and punk, with a little sci-fi corn thrown in, none of it Blur connected.

Sharpening his songwriting and clearly working on his quite English vocals, Coxon came flying out of the box with "Spectacular," an under-three-minute charging ode to falling in love with a girl on the Internet, perhaps on a porn site? Riffs are pouring down everywhere, tom toms pounding the verses, and Coxon bursting into short wild solos after each insane chorus.

Saw you in my computer,
Never seen no one cuter,
Posing with a shooter,
You got me in a stupor.

You... are... something quite spec-tac-u-lar!

A mere five songs later, out he emerges again blasting with "Freakin' Out," moving so fast that you can feel the chaos of his life spinning out of control, tongue planted in cheek. Coxon goes even more nuts on this one, the delays on his vocals just adding to the effect. He knows how to make a good "pushing the car past the speed limit" song, and just rolls those raw riffs and solos off like a madman.

Filling the space between my ears,
Why don't you all just disappear.
With all your friends just way too dear.
You are foaming at the mouth,
You are mad without a doubt,
Cos I'm really freakin' out!

And I'm going out of my mind,
TV got me going blind,
And I'm really freakin' out!

These two songs seemed like cool musical bookmarks, so I'm featuring them both. First, here's the "Spectacular" video, with Coxon on what looks like a Rickenbacker 360, much like the one I own. "Freakin' Out" is all classic Gibson SG's, the famed "horn" shaped guitar, shooting from the gate like the frantic opening of The Ramones' "I Wanna Be Sedated."

Philip Oakey and Giorgio Moroder -- "Together in Electric Dreams" (1984)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 11:34:00 +0000

Here's a one-off collaboration that thankfully actually led to a full album afterwards and it was quite ideal. Moroder did a spectacular job producing Blondie's "Call Me" for the American Gigolo soundtrack, and then went off to join David Bowie for the aforementioned theme from Cat People.

It was truly inspirational that the lead singer of the Human League, Philip Oakey, hook up with Moroder to create one of the great synth pop singles of the early 80's for an entirely forgettable movie. At the time, a comedy about a love triangle between a boy, a girl and a personal PC probably seemed very "cutting edge," and you could stuff it with all kinds of hot New Wave acts on the soundtrack, but the only thing worth remembering is the sort-of title song.

Oakey had one of the unmistable voices of the new wave era, if you think back on all the Human League hits. Really a blueprint for what characterized many lead vocalists those days -- disaffected, not a hell of a lot of range, yet able to carry a memorable tune. The Human League was all about mopey pop tunes covered in synths, so it was a true stroke of genius to pair him with the man who basically turned synthesizers and drum machines into disco classics.

As noted with my Bowie entry, Moroder's songwriting style was always very simple, truly in the Europop tradition that gave us groups like ABBA. No fancy chords or tricks. It was all about the irresistable froth melody. So imagine that Oakey voice from "Don't You Want Me" surrounded on beds of analog and digital synthesizers, pushed by a fast galloping drum machine, singing as sugary a dance confection as "Together In Electric Dreams." In a nod to the two female members of Human League, Moroder even soundalike women singers echoing the end phrases of each verse.

Moroder always liked a rock guitar cutting through the keyboards (remember Jeff "Skunk" Baxter's turn on Donna Summers' "Hot Stuff?"), so they come piercing through here with the melody over the intro and then really phased out and distorted during the break.

I only knew you for a while
I never saw your smile
'Til it was time to go
Time to go away (time to go away).
Sometimes it's hard to recognise
Love comes as a surprise
And it's too late
It's just too late to stay
Too late to stay.

We`ll always be together
However far it seems.
(Love never ends)
We`ll always be together
Together in Electric Dreams.

Because the friendship that you gave
Has taught me to be brave
No matter where I go I`ll never find a better prize
(Find a better prize).
Though you're miles and miles away
I see you every day I don't have to try
I just close my eyes, I close my eyes.

We'll always be together
However far it seems.
(Love never ends)
We'll always be together
Together in Electric Dreams.

When "Together In Electric Dreams" became a smash, it was a no-brainer to do an entire album together, and apparently, the duo completed it in fairly quick time. The first side of the record was all segued together, creating 15 minutes of non-stop danceable synth pop. I remember that a couple of the tunes were single-ready and ripe for 12" remixes, like "Electric Dreams."

The album eventually came out on CD, but is long out of print. However, if there's anything you should look to download is the "Together In Electric Dreams," which still is unforgettable to this day. Here's the official video, with scenes from the movie, and obviously shot around San Francisco.

David Bowie -- "Cat People (Putting Out Fire With Gasoline") (1982)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 01:53:00 +0000

David Bowie, like Elvis Costello, has a long career of "hit and run" collaborations with other talented artists. He dueted with Mick Jagger on the overblown cover of "Dancing In The Street," dropped into Queen's "Under Pressure," let Chic co-founder Nile Rodgers produce him on Let's Dance, and did a memorable turn with jazz guitarist Pat Matheny on "This Is Not America" from the soundtrack of The Falcon and The Snowman.

However, if there was one joint venture that I wish had extended to a full album was this one with pioneering disco synth producer/songwriter Giorgio Moroder, who is best known for his work with Donna Summer.

The theme song from director Paul Schrader's weird, kinky thriller, Cat People, blended the off-kilter lyrical and vocal touches of Bowie with the simple chords and pumping synths of Moroder, packaged in an arrangement straight out of the latter's playbook: start nice and slow (remember Summers' "Last Dance?"), and then kick it in full speed, layers of keyboards pouring down, female background vocalists tearing it up at the end.

Bowie always had a knack for turning a phrase, and he packs two: "You wouldn't believe what I've been through!" and "it's been so long!"

Schrader's movie was a modern update of Val Lewton's 1942 horror film, except he kicked up the sex and the violence. Schrader introduced the world to Natassja Kinski, as a peculiarly hot chick who may, just may, turn into panther after she has sex, and have an incestuous relationship with her brother, played by Malcolm McDowell.

So if you're going to have something as twisted as this, Bowie would have to be your man. The video clip below pretty much explains why Bowie, this song and the film were perfect: it's the opening of the film where you are introduced to this race of people who are somehow related to felines in a sexual way... lots of mist... a female led to a mystical sacrificial tree... and Bowie's croon, set to a tribal beat before jumping into the second faster part of the song.

The Most Absurd Disco Cover Songs of All Time

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 15:40:00 +0000

By the time disco was running full steam in the late 70's, the rush to cash in on the disco craze was so compelling that some rock artists jumped on the bandwagon, much to the dismay of their fans, notably Rod Stewart ("Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?"), Kiss ("I Was Born For Loving You") and even the Electric Light Orchestra ("Shine A Little Light").

In the pursuit of the almighty dollar, disco actually turned its eyes to the classics. No, I don't mean Chopin (he was exploited for Donna Summers' "Could It Be Magic") or Beethoven (Walter Murphy got him with "A Fifth Of Beethoven").

I mean classic rock and folk songs from the 60's and 70's that didn't sound remotely like they should be played in a discotheque and probably should have been left just the way they are.

Disco turned the tables -- literally and figuratively -- on rock and roll.

There has been no musical category too sacred for a disco makeover. Some covers made perfectly logical sense because they were already rhythmic and soulful, like Bonnie Pointer's take on the obscure Motown tune "Heaven Must Have Sent You," Angela Clemmons' straightforward handclapping re-do of the Chairmen of the Board's "Give Me Just A Little More Time," and Donna Summer's synthesized epic "MacArthur's Park Suite."

However, the whole trend moved into the absurd when record executives and producers had the bright idea that the rock, folk and Broadway musical catalogs had to be raided, spiffed up with a 4/4 bass drum, 8th-note high hats, bouncy strings, hand claps, and oh, jacked up to about 125 beats per minute. Many songs were not meant for this destiny, but clearly destiny be damned! And that's what this post is about.

Remember the audience for the pseudo-musical "Springtime for Hitler" on opening night in "The Producers," jaws agape, eyes wide open in disbelief. You know what you are seeing and hearing is so bad, you can't decide if it's really awful or you just want to laugh at the whole thing and pretend it's a joke. You may have the same reaction when you hear and see these heretical disco genre twists.

Yes, here are the 10 most hard to believe songs that somehow found themselves converted into disco hits. You will see another recurring theme here -- the magical year of 1979, when the genre seemed to peak with insanity.

1) Viola Wills -- "If You Could Read My Mind" (1981): Gordon Lightfoot's 1970 slow sensitive breakthrough folk hit about his devastating divorce gets completely overhauled for the dance floor. The sadness of Lightfoot's fallen-apart relationship? Tossed out! Here's Viola Willis on "Solid Gold" with several women finely choreographed in sparkling gold spandex outfit belting out about that sad breakup. P.S. Not satisfied with desecrating one 70's Canadian folk artist, Wills released a disco version of Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" too.

2) Rosebud -- "Have A Cigar" (1977): Only a mere two years after Pink Floyd released their prog-rock tribute to drugged-out former bandmate Syd Barrett, Wish You Were Here, Warner Brothers released a 12" single from an anonymous studio band covering Roger Waters' song about, cough, the greed and hypocrisy of the record business. The song kind of takes on a whole new meaning when a funky slap bass and pounding cowbell accompany a couple of unknown singers belting out repeatedly in a rather quantized fashion: "Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar, you're gonna go far (go far-r-r-r-r!), a-ha!"

3) The Raes -- "School" (1979): Continuing the disco-izing of famous 70's prog-rock songs, this Toronto couple took on the opening song of Supertramp's Crime of the Century album. Like Pink Floyd, Supertramp seems have had some traumatic experiences in early UK education and paint a picture of a scared kid being poked around by his parents, friends and teachers. The Raes' version rethinks the song as a duet, where they take that tagline of "He's coming along!" and shout it along with some big cop show horn riffs.

4) Linda Clifford -- "Bridge Over Trouble Water" (1979): Nobody minded when Aretha Franklin made this song into a deep gospel take on Simon & Garfunkel's Grammy Award winning song about companionship even in the worst of times. After all, she was the queen of soul and she could sing the phone book and move the world. On the other hand, I don't think anybody expected this epic tune to feature background singers flittering: "Gonna be a bridge!" And if that point wasn't driven home clearly, here's Linda Clifford, a vision in red while dancing over the Williamsburgh Bridge, belting it out for all the cars driving by and perhaps a jumper who couldn't not believe what they were hearing. Note the jogger running past her at the 1:15 mark!

5) Elton John -- "Johnny B. Goode" (1979): Even the greats make their mistakes. John's career was at its nadir when he released his official disco album Victim of Love, produced by Giogio Moroder partner Pete Bellotte. I bet you didn't even know this album existed! Hoping to capture some of the stardust Bellotte gave Donna Summer, John opened this travesty with an ill-conceived eight minute disco rendition of Chuck Berry's rock and roll classic. Don't choke when you see Elton lip synch the single on TV here. Just keep thinking: "He went on to write 'Little Jeannie' the next year, thank God."

6) The Wonder Band -- "Whole Lotta Love" (1979): Even sacred hard rock bangers Led Zeppelin was not safe from the usual anonymous studio band treatment on this headbanging classic from their album, Stairway to Love. Speeding up that slow throbbing beat, the immortal guitar riff is short and clipped while those singers get their lines in over the hot congas: "You need coo-o-o-olin'! Baby, I'm not foo-o-o-o-lin'!"

7) Amii Stewart -- "Light My Fire" (1979): Making over Eddie Floyd's old Stax hit "Knock On Wood" is Stewart's claim to fame, but she found the time to follow the Donna Summer playbook for The Doors' breakthrough rock classic -- start nice and slow, and then rev up the beat and hold that note on "fi-i-i-i-ire" forever on the tempo transition. Stewart's costume and Egyptian-like dance moves (which clearly seems to have influenced Madonna later on) make this video clip a mesmerizing relic.

8) Sheila & B. Devotion -- "Singing In The Rain" (1977): Words fail me. I'll let the video say it all. A complete 6-minute choreographed routine that easily rivals the "Satan's Alley" finale of the film "Staying Alive."

9) Chilly -- "For Your Love" (1978): Lots of cheesy psychedelic camera visuals... and laughs galore from a group that looks like the cast of "Hair" annihilating the Yardbirds classic.

10) Ethel Merman -- "There's No Business Like Show Business" (1979):This may take the cake. Broadway warhorse with super lungs Ethel Merman was 71 years old when she recorded an entire album of show tune disco remakes, many of them of her own signature properties. I'll spare you "Everything's Coming Up Roses" for this surreal version of the "Gypsy" show stopper.

OTHER "PRIZE WINNERS":

Witch Queen -- "All Right Now," originally performed by Free
Witch Queen -- "Bang A Gong (Get It On)," originally performed by T. Rex
Salazar -- "Let's Hang On," originally performed by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons
Salazar -- "1-2-3," originally performed by Len Barry
Vicki Sue Robinson -- "To Sir With Love," originally performed by Lulu

3 SONGS THAT WOULD MAKE GREAT DISCO COVERS:
(I don't think anybody would mind if somebody redid these as disco songs if they were done well)

"I've Got The Music In Me," originally performed by Kiki Dee
"Gimme Gimme Good Lovin'," originally performed by Crazy Elephant
"Na, Na, Hey, Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye)," originally performed by Steam

The Recession Playlist 2008

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 20:16:00 +0000

If you're going to be out of work, out of money, unable to pay the rent, flipping out at food prices, cutting coupons, searching for sales, pinching for pennies, suffering service outages, scraping to get by, begging for a job, borrowing cash, and standing on the dole line, you may as well sing and dance about it.

With kudos to my friend Andrew Pendrill, here's our Recession Playlist, in no particular order:

Clarence "Frogman" Henry - "Ain't Got No Home": Straight from the city of New Orleans, this was a rousing 1956 blues number later covered by The Band. You can hear the song on the soundtrack to the film "Diner." According to Wikipedia, Henry opened up 18 North American concerts for the Beatles in 1964.

The O'Jay's - "For The Love Of Money": Philly Soul's famous ode to greed, driven by a funky major 7th bass riff which is up front and center the whole song long. Lots of flanger effects, ghostly voices, a trilling trumpet and the three O'Jay's repetitively singing: "Money, money, money, money... MONEY!"

The Kinks - "Low Budget": Brilliantly timed 1979 rock singalong from Ray Davies and the boys when the country was in a recession. "Cheap is small and not too steep/But best of all, cheap is cheap/Circumstance has forced my hand/To be a cut-price person in a low budget land."

ZZ Top - "Cheap Sunglasses": That lil' ol' band from Texas gets down and dirty with a bluesy tribute to inexpensive eyewear. From the album Deguello, this was the first time they used a keyboard in a hit song, in this case, a gritty rough electric piano.

REM - "Everybody Hurts": Something of a modern classic, lead singer Michael Stipe aches along with this ballad that basically says you're not alone, we're all suffering. "Sometimes everything is wrong/Now's the time to sing along" is a worthwhile philosophy we can all live by now.

Gwen Guthrie - "Ain't Nothin' Goin' On But The Rent": Late 80's disco diva wailing about "bill collectors at my door" so "what can you do for me?" Not your typical sugar daddy request, but a man to help her pay the rent and perhaps in return, they'll get something in return. She makes it pretty clear that there's "no romance without finance!"

Johnny Rivers - "The Poor Side of Town": Moving rock and roll aside for a soulful ballad, Rivers took out the twangy guitar to tell his girl that the rich guy she'd been dating was using her as a "plaything." His best line is "Girl, it's hard to find nice things/On the poor side of town."

ABC - "How To Be A Millionaire": Leave it to singer Martin Fry, the man who gave us the witty New Wave hits "Poison Arrow" and "The Look of Love," to open up this 1985 dancer with "I've seen the future/I can't afford it/To tell the truth, sir/Someone just bought it." Like the Guthrie song, you can dance as a poor person and hope somebody, or at least fate, can deal you some extra cash.

ABC - How To Be A Millionaire
Uploaded by ABC

BB King's "Help The Poor": A blues classic from the great Gibson guitarist. Former LA Express guitarist Robben Ford did a terrific cover on his first Warner Brothers solo album, and then King joined Clapton for a version on their duet album. Is the singer looking for monetary charity or lopve from a girl gone away: "Help the poor/Won't you help poor me?/I need help from you, baby/I need it desperately."

The Beatles - "Money (That's What I Want)": A late 50's hit by Barrett Strong and co-written by Motown founder Berry Gordy, this searing rocker has been covered by the Fab Four, the Flying Lizards and even Josie and the Pussycats! That's doesn't make its sentiment any less serious. "The best things in life are free/But you can keep'em for the birds and bees!"

Chuck Brown & The Soul Searchers - "We Need Some Money": Eight minutes of solid thumping go-go beat, right out of our nation's capital. With overabundant percussion, funky horns and glitchy analog synths, Brown updates the Gordy song sentiments and there's no holding back: "I'm gonna lay it right on the line/A dollar bill is a friend of mine/We need money!"

Nobody Does It Better: The James Bond Theme Songs From Best to Worst

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 14:26:00 +0000

AS HEARD ON NPR'S "ALL THINGS CONSIDERED"

With "Quantum of Solace" opening this weekend, this is a timely opportunity to evaluate all the James Bond theme songs from best to worst.

Performing the title song to a James Bond movie used to be a musician's badge of honor, and many of them became hits. However, starting with the film "License to Kill" in 1989, not only did the hits dry up, the songs almost uniformly stunk. Yes, the opening credit visuals that accompanied them were still stunning and the movies they went with were almost always excellent. But that musical badge of honor didn't mean anything if they didn't deliver the goods.

The James Bond franchise is very special, but certainly one of the main contributing elements has been the music. Never has there ever been such a long series of films so closely aligned with the style and output of one composer, the brilliant John Barry. The producers lucked out with the English jazz trumpeter and orchestrator, who had such an individual style, emphasizing big brass stabs, swinging jazzy chops, and a penchant for blending major and minor chords for stark effect over three decades.

Most of Barry's theme songs (which he co-wrote with different lyricists) were either big sassy numbers like "Goldfinger" and "Thunderball" that became stylistically dated as the 70's rolled on, or straight-ahead pop ballads like "You Only Live Twice" and "We Have All The Time In The World." He collaborated with rock artists on two theme songs, imparting his signature brass hits on "A View To A Kill" and "The Living Daylights," although the Pretenders did two very cool numbers on the latter soundtrack, which flew under everybody's radar. Three of Barry's theme songs were sung by histrionic Welsh belter Shirley Bassey: "Goldfinger," "Diamonds Are Forever" and "Moonraker." Most Bond title songs have never "rocked."

Barry pioneered the use of signature themes in all his Bond scores, long before John Williams did the same for all the Star Wars and Indiana Jones flicks. The surf guitar of "The James Bond Theme" is as instantly recognizable as the Coke logo. That minor chord pattern in the same theme was dipped into a number of his future scores and songs, and ripped off blatantly for the guitar lick in Johnny Rivers' "Secret Agent Man."

Three times during the Sean Connery/Roger Moore/Timothy Dalton era, the Bond assignment went to different composers and two of those title songs were smashes too. Famous producer George Martin scored "Live and Let Die" so it was inevitable that Paul McCartney did those opening honors, while Bill Conti (best known for the "Rocky" theme) did "For Your Eyes Only." When they hired 80's hitmakers Narada Michael Walden, Jeffrey Cohen and Walter Afanasieff for the "License To Kill" theme song, it understandably bombed along with its pedestrian Michael Kamen score, beginning a still-standing dearth of title song hits.

What makes a good James Bond song, as opposed to just any other song? It has to be seductive, with the sort of "spy"-type arrangements and chords that acid jazz musicians have appreciated for years. Some bombast falling just short of annoying. Lyrically containing those existential "live" and "die" themes that preoccupy the movie titles themselves. Honoring the John Barry tradition of jazzy horn stabs would be admirable.

I've heard the Alicia Keys/Jack White duet "Another Way To Die" from the new film. It has a few of the Bond song trademarks -- darting horns, deep mysterious piano notes, and the word "die" in the title. However, there's a lot of semi-rapping and shouting, not much melody at all, and it takes over 40 seconds to get started. I'll take a pass on this one, unfortunately.

People are always arguing over and listing their favorite James Bond movie, actors, villains and stunts. But I don't recall a ranking of those nearly two dozen theme songs, so here's my totally opinionated evaluation, from worst to best, with links to each title sequence.

20. "Die Another Day" performed by Madonna: A plum assignment handed to the globally famous musical chameleon and she blew it big time. Released the year before her inferior "American Life" album, Madonna foresakes the memorable dance beats of her "Ray of Light" hit for jagged samples and a forgotten thrown together mess. So much for banking on what the producers were hoping would be a sure thing. Totally ridiculous S&M inquisition video too.

19. "License To Kill" performed by Gladys Knight: Sampling the horn hook from "Goldfinger" (and paying the original composers the royalties too), the songwriting team behind 80's Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Aretha Franklin and Starship hits forces poor Motown great Glady Knight to grumble in a low register and spend a lot of time groaning "Uh-huh" and "license to kill!"

18. "The Man With The Golden Gun" performed by Lulu: The corniest title song ever composed by John Barry matched this equally silly film. Sample awful lyric: "His eye may be on you or me/Who will he bang?/We shall see!" Somebody dragged obscure English 60's pop sonstress Lulu out of the mothballs in 1974 to sing this one. Not worthy of John Barry stature by any means. The Alice Cooper song of the same name was far better.

17. "The World Is Not Enough" performed by Garbage: Current Bond score composer David Arnold has yet to create a good title song to this day. Trying to turn Garbage lead singer Shirley Manson into a chantreuse was a huge mistake and this sounds nothing like the crunchy grungy rock of Garbage. This is a very ordinary song, far from the standards of what a Bond title tune should be.

16. "Tomorrow Never Dies" performed by Sheryl Crow: One would have hoped this could have been a rocking Bond theme song with Crow in place, much like what I anticipated from Garbage. Instead, Crow rolls out an unmelodic swaying ballad which just comes and goes with no notice, much like "The World Is Not Enough."

15. "Moonraker" performed by Shirley Bassey: Coming on the heels of Carly Simon's enormous 70's contemporary pop hit of "Nobody Does It Better," pulling Bassey out for one last glitzy over the top rendition felt like the franchise took one step backwards. While the song was bonafide John Barry, with those delicately placed strings and his trademark major-minor chord transitions, it was not one of his best and too Las Vegas-y to make it up the charts.

14. "You Know My Name" performed by Chris Cornell: Finally getting close to the mark, new Bond score composer David Arnold joined forces with great rock baritone Cornell for something that sounds, well, James Bond-ish. Charging distorted guitars, rising strings, a pounding sense of desperation, and a real rock song melody. Appropriate that it appears in the film series' recent return to old school form.

13. "For Your Eyes Only" performed by Sheena Easton: Notable for being the only Bond title song where the artist actually appeared in the opening credits, "For Your Eyes Only" was a nice smooth pop ballad with a good hook and a babe on the vocals. Very synthetic and perfect production values.

12. "Goldeneye" performed by Tina Turner: Many surprises here. Turner was made for singing a Bond title song and it's a revelation that it took until 17 movies for somebody to come up with that idea. Give all the credit to writers U2's Bono and The Edge, along with urban producer Nellee Hooper, who created all the earmarks of danger and mystery: finger snaps, a bursting brass riff, a choppy rimshot-driven drum loop, and low pizaccato strings evolving to the romantic undertones that had been missing for so long.

11. "All Time High" performed by Rita Coolidge: Thankfully not using the title "Octopussy" anywhere in it, Barry swung for the adult contemporary radio format fences and got himself a huge hit. You know it's Barry by the giveaway string arrangements. This was Coolidge's last chart-topper, as it came at the end of a run of successful soft rock covers ("We're All Alone" and "Higher and Higher").

10. "Diamonds Are Forever" performed by Shirley Bassey: For Sean Connery's last Bond venture, Barry put a little more swing into Bassey's bellowing ("Diamonds are forever, forever, forever"), some blatant sexual innuendo ("Hold one up and then caress it/Touch it, stroke it and undress it"), a dose of guitar wah wah, and plenty of seductiveness.

9. "Live and Let Die" performed by Paul McCartney & Wings: A truly bizarre song for the Bond genre, employing McCartney's tried-and-true "three songs in one" gimmick (see: "Band On The Run," "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey"). The lyrics are utter nonsense, and there's much ado going on with big orchestra runs with chase scene riffs, with that dramatic unexpected minor chord ending.

8. "Nobody Does It Better" performed by Carly Simon: A perfect 70's hitmaking machine behind this huge pop hit -- composer Marvin Hamlisch and lyricist Carole Bayer Sager, cranking out a fluffy concoction that transcended the Bond movie into a popular catch phrase of the era.

7. "From Russia With Love" performed by Matt Munro: There's something truly Rat Pack-ish about this song, as you can almost picture Sinatra belting this one out in a nightclub. With Lionel Bart's dashing playboy lyrics ("From Russia with love/I fly to you/Much wiser since my goodbye to you/I've travelled the world to learn/I must return/From Russia with love") and the Slavic tack piano effects, this was the series' "Strangers In The Night."

6. "A View To A Kill" performed by Duran Duran: This is the first Bond song that actually "rocked" and did it very successfully. The New Wave stars collaborated with Barry on a horn-hit filled 80's-styled danceable rock tune with those immortal words: "Dance into the fire/The fatal kiss is all we need!" Crunching heavily-compressed power guitar chords and funky little Strat licks, those immortal Bond minor chords simmering underneath, Duran Duran and Barry's joint venture still sounds well today, especially to 80's nostalgia fiends.

5. "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" performed by The John Barry Orchestra: The title theme of a movie full of "only's" -- the only film to star George Lazenby as James Bond, the only film directed by renowned editor Peter Hunt, and the only film to have an instrumental title sequence. If you thought the James Bond theme itself was wicked, this came in a very close second. Oozing cool, Barry's composition sounds like the best action chase music from the late 60's, building horns, changing keys, and a fuzzy harpsicord-sounding Moog synthesizer running down the twisting baseline.

4. "Thunderball" performed by Tom Jones: The Welsh singing god of the 60's rips his shirt open once more in this bombastic ode to the man who "runs while others walk." Surrounded by a maximum horn riff as beguiling as the one Barry created for "Goldfinger," I can always picture the silhouetted female scuba divers from this film's credit sequence. You've got to hand it to Mr. Jones when he used every ounce of air in his lungs when he explodes with that last "Thun-der-bal-l-l-l!"

3. "The Living Daylights" performed by a-ha: I have great love for this song which went nowhere in the US but of course was a huge European hit. The Norweigian synth pop group collaborated with Barry, like Duran Duran, and produced the sleeper of the whole bunch. As I wrote back on this blog in December 2007: "a truly compelling title song, with tricky key changes, wide open production, a veritable mix of dark Europop and John Barry snazz... Heavily treated electric guitars, hard acoustic guitar strums at emphatic parts, galloping drums with suddenly building snares, twinkling synths, a distorted sax solo, and the falsettos and harmonies of the group itself. John Barry comes in loud and clear with his trademark brassy blasts during the intro and the chorus. Listen for the in-time horseshoes when the song settles in about halfway through before that dirty sax solo."

2. "Goldfinger" performed by Shirley Bassey: The flagship Bond song -- huge, pompous, and mysterious. The blueprint for all future lyricists assigned to focus on a villian as their subject. Parodied and worshipped, Barry's masterwork came in the third Bond film, where he was allowed to step out for the score from beginning to end. Where did he come up those chords for the words "Goldfinger" -- an F major leading to a D flat? Hats off to lyricists Anthony Newley and Lesley Bricusse for coming up with the phrase that he had such a "cold finger." My God.

1. "You Only Live Twice" performed by Nancy Sinatra: This movie and song had a profound effect on me in 1967, as it was the first Bond film I saw in a theater, in this case, the Green Acres Theater in Valley Stream, Long Island. The combination of Sean Connery machine gunning around in that flying Little Nellie, bodies flying through the air from explosions inside the empty volcano crater, exotic Japanese women, and spaceships eating other spaceships was mesmerizing. But that song -- Nancy Sinatra's sexy voice mysteriously floating through the classic Barry melody, with those endless major/minor chord switches, the downward cascading strings, and the Asian influenced xylophone notes, accompanying the literal explosions of chrysanthemum color of the Maurice Binder-designed credits. I never get tired of this song and I knew I was justified when I heard Coldplay perform it live on the b-side of a CD single I bought in the UK several years ago.

SPECIAL MENTIONS

Although these songs were not the "title" theme songs, they were prominently featured on the soundtracks and I consider them very worthy and prime additions to the Bond genre.

"We Have All The Time In The World" performed by Louis Armstrong: The very last performance from the great jazz trumpeter, the song has great simplicity and poignancy that reflects the ironic jarring ending of "On Her Majesty's Secret Service." Armstrong enunciates every syllable delicately while Barry's swirling strings hit you right in the gut.

"Where Has Everybody Gone?" and "If There Was A Man" performed by The Pretenders: These are two treats on soundtrack of "The Living Daylights," true collaborations between Chrissy Hynde and John Barry. The former is a snarling Bond-ish rocker with mocking open trumpets and switchblade guitar work, while the latter is one of the most beautiful ballads ever to appear in a 007 movie.