TOTAL MUSIC GEEK by Drew Kerr

The KLF -- "What Time is Love?" (1988)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 02:44:00 +0000

Reloading a new terabyte external drive drive in my production studio tonight, I clicked on a bubbling synth bass loop on a disc called "Psychedelic Trance and Goa," rippling so fast, reminding me of one of the UK's pioneering acid house hits, "What Time is Love."

The KLF, to the average American, means practically nada. In the UK, they were complete chart domination in the late 80's, two guys who made up this whole back story of being followers of the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu (!!) ripped right from Robert Anton Wilson's classic conspiratorial Illuminati trilogy (so there, Dan Brown!).

Bill Drummond and Jimmy McCauty concocted weird videos, dressed up in Druid-type robes, and had a damn good laugh all the way to the bank, as they pretty much retired KLF once it peaked. They came in, made a ton of money with their records and videos, and knew when to call it a day.

But while they were masquerading as The KLF (??), they were taking the UK's burgeoning acid house scene and putting it on the Top 20. Stomping psychedelic electronic music, heavy with samples, with a charge of hip hop, and a throttling raw Roland 303 synth bass, it was the music of heavy clubbing and drugs in Europe. I was in London at the time, buying up double-CD compilations that were not available in the US, just to soak up all this music that I couldn't hear back home.

"What Time Is Love" brilliantly starts off a clip of Detroit garage rock legends The MC5 doing their famous "Kick Out The Jams" rally cry, sliced right into the 135bpm one-chord rave-up, police sirens swarming in from all sides, and another sample of C+C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat." The KLF boys had the women shouting "Mu! Mu!" during the breaks, in case you forgot this was the dance music of conspiracy theorists who packed the club floors in a psychedelic fury.

And if you didn't get the joke then, The KLF continued pulling the public's leg, albeit with great music, when they released another single called "We're Justified and Ancient" sung by country warhorse Tammy "Stand By Your Man" Wynette.

The KLF barraged the world with numerous remixes of each songs, twisting and turning them, tongue firmly planted in cheek. Why just look at the videos for the three "What Time Is Love" remixes below. First, you have your original version, complete with aerial shots of crop circles (gimme a break!). Then their electric guitar-inflected 1992 American bid for the song, complete with one of the "Justified Ancients" standing on a rock in the middle of the windy sea extolling their perilous journey to the U.S. on board what looks like a Viking boat with a drum kit set up in the rear. Finally, the "pure trance" dub version of the song, featuring lots of grazing sheep out in a field, long extended shots of a police car riding through a valley, and then back to the sheep again!

American producers have had relentless efficiency in cashing in on manufactured pop with a decidedly straight face. But The KLF was a purely British creation of not only concocting a silly elaborate musical scheme, while actually pioneering the musical genre it was delivering.

The Jim Carroll Band -- "People Who Died" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:06:00 +0000

I'd been thinking of posting about Jim Carroll's one classic new wave/punk song not long ago when I just heard he died on Friday, September 11th of a heart attack at age 60.

In the late 70's, New York was at the height of the punk movement but at the same time, just scraping by through its financial crises. Carroll was a natural to join the musical fray, having written the underground college classic book "The Basketball Diaries," about his own downward spiral from aspiring street athlete to heroin junkie.

Carroll couldn't sing worth a damn, but he had a rather staggering spoken style of cadence infused with pain. When "People Who Died" came out, its title was easy to dismiss as a novelty number. After all, in the 70's, oddball songs did crack the Top 40.

But this was as startling a number as there could be -- a roll call of friends who OD'd or were brutally killed, all done to gatling-gun breakneck guitars and yes, it rhymed. As a matter of fact, the lyrics are so wild, he repeats them all over again, like a mantra of warning, regret and sadness.

Could you imagine anything remotely like this played on the radio now? No way.

Teddy sniffing glue, he was 12 years old
Fell from the roof on East Two-nine
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died

G-berg and Georgie let their gimmicks go rotten
So they died of hepatitis in upper Manhattan
Sly in Vietnam took a bullet in the head
Bobby OD'd on Drano on the night that he was wed
They were two more friends of mine
Two more friends that died.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Mary took a dry dive from a hotel room
Bobby hung himself from a cell in the tombs
Judy jumped in front of a subway train
Eddie got slit in the jugular vein
And Eddie, I miss you more than all the others
And I salute you brother.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Herbie pushed Tony from the Boys' Club roof
Tony thought that his rage was just some goof
But Herbie sure gave Tony some bitchen proof
"Hey," Herbie said, "Tony, can you fly?"
But Tony couldn't fly, Tony died.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Brian got busted on a narco rap
He beat the rap by rattin' on some bikers
He said, "Hey, I know it's dangerous, but it sure beats Riker's"
But the next day he got offed by the very same bikers.

Those are people who died, died
They were all my friends, and they died.

Carroll's "The Basketball Diaries" became an early Leonardo DiCaprio film many years later in 1995. Below is Carroll intercut with scenes from the movie. Jim Carroll, we salute you brother.

Ellie Greenwich, songwriter RIP

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 01:27:00 +0000

Ellie Greenwich, who along with her ex-husband Jeff Barry, wrote many classic Phil Spector "girl group hits" died today of a heart attack at the age of 68. They were the classic Brill Building songwriting duo, much like Carole King and Gerry Goffin.

They co-wrote "Leader of the Pack," "Be My Baby," "Da Doo Ron Ron," and "Chapel of Love," all of them iconic songs of the era.

Here is Ike and Tina Turner performing one of Greenwich's most famous compositions, "River Deep, Mountain High" in 1971.

The hit songs from Hair

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 21:34:00 +0000

With the hype of the 40th anniversary of the "Summer of Love" behind us -- Woodstock nostalgia getting the lion's share of it -- and the revival of Hair a success, it's time to take a look at this groundbreaking musical.

Not that it was a very successful "hippie" musical that featured a bit of nudity and went on to win all kinds of awards. It was the last Broadway musical that spawned Top 40 single cover versions, in this case, four of them, all in one year. Talk about endless free built-in saturated AM radio marketing for your show.

Think back.. how many musicals produced big hit songs in the rock era? The Jackson Five had a minor ride with its cover of Pippin's "Corner of the Sky." Bar mitzvah DJ's love spinning "Seasons of Love" from Rent, but it's never made it onto the Billboard charts. After Hair, you'd have to go back to 1972 for the cast of Godspell and "Day by Day" (also written by Pippin's Stephen Schwartz). Since then... nothing.

It's a tribute to composers James Rado, Gerome Ragni and Galt McDermott that they not only created a musical that would still resonate after all these decades, but one that would be the blueprint for classic songs that truly represent the pop-making machinery of the era. The show went so well when it first appeared off-Broadway at the Public Theater in 1967, that by the time it reached Broadway two years later, these cover versions were primed to go right to the radio.

THE 5th DIMENSION -- "AQUARIUS/LET THE SUNSHINE IN" (1969)

The quintessential big LA pop production, the 5th Dimension already had two big cover version hits behind them, Jimmy Webb's immortal "Up Up And Away" and Laura Nyro's "Stoned Soul Picnic" ("Can you picnic?"). Their producer Bones Howe came up with the ingenious idea of seamlessly splicing two Hair songs together, literally and figuratively, each in different keys and rhythms and turning it into one cohesive single. You can read more about how it call came together from this article in Mix magazine.

THE COWSILLS -- "HAIR" (1969)

The Rhode Island-based bubblegum group which was the inspiration for the TV show "The Partridge Family" seemed awfully square to be swimming in the hippie pool. But they did it once in 1967 with "The Rain, The Park And Other Things" (which I wrote about here) and then again with this pretty faithful cover version.

THREE DOG NIGHT -- "EASY TO BE HARD" (1969)

The threesome who made an entire career of brilliantly picking the right songs written by soon-to-be famous composers and rearranging them took on this ballad as their followup to their debut hit, "One."

OLIVER -- "GOOD MORNING STARSHINE" (1969)

William Oliver Swafford took one of Hair's goofy touchy-feely tunes to the top with lots of jangling tambourines, sparkles and bangles. Who can forget lyrics like "glibby glub glooby/nibby nub nooby/la la la lo lo/sabba sibbi sabba/nooby ana nabba/lee lee loo loo/tooby ooby wala/nooby ooby wala/early morning singing song!"

The musical impact of filmmaker John Hughes

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 20:04:00 +0000

While there is no question the the late filmmaker John Hughes touched many lives with his stories of teenage angst (The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Some Kind of Wonderful) and equally adult angst (National Lampoon's Vacation, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Mr. Mom, She's Having A Baby), you can't discuss Hughes legacy without talking about the music.

As great as the scripts, pop music was almost like another character in these films. For a guy who had already been in the ad industry and working his way through his 30's, Hughes had an amazing knack for touching what was on the minds of kids 15 years younger than him.

I remember that like author Stephen King, Hughes said he wrote his scripts accompanied by different popular bands at the time. He seemed particularly taken by the English punk and new wave bands, and their music was featured prominently on the soundtracks. A no more direct example of his obsession was Hughes naming his Molly Ringwald/Andrew McCarthy/Jon Cryer love triangle vehicle Pretty in Pink after the classic loud and charging Psychedelic Furs song that helped bust open English new wave into the US. As a matter of fact, Hughes helped break other English acts here on these shores, crossing over to Top 40 success.

The film's soundtrack albums were like guided tours to the best and sometimes obscure New Wave and post-punk bands of the 80's, with contributions from New Order, Pete Shelley, Suzanne Vega, INXS, Echo & The Bunnymen, The Thompson Twins and The Smiths.

So here is a musical video trip to the excellent popular and influential songs, almost entirely handpicked by John Hughes for his films:

NATIONAL LAMPOON'S VACATION (1983) -- Written by John Hughes

Lindsey Buckingham's 2-minute pop pleasure "Holiday Road."

THE BREAKFAST CLUB (1985) -- Written and directed by John Hughes

Scottish band Simple Minds broke through the American market with "Don't You (Forget About Me)." The story goes that lead singer Jim Kerr was reluctant to record the song because the song was not written by the band, but was coaxed by his label A&M to do it. I'm sure he was glad he changed his mind -- it became the band's signature song and their biggest hit.

WEIRD SCIENCE (1985) -- Written and directed by John Hughes

The second A&M cult band to take the magic Hughes ride was Oingo Boingo, led by future soundtrack composer Danny Elfman. Their Devo-ish title song featured the band's trademark multi-layered percussion and mallets, off-kilter vocals with some early sampling ("She's alive! She's alive!" from Bride of Frankenstein) and a hyperactive beat that made the band a one-hit wonder. All that percussion lent itself to a ready-made 12" remix single at the time.

PRETTY IN PINK (1986) -- Written by John Hughes

You can't talk about this film first without acknowledging the fantastic title song, which actually came out five years before this movie debuted. One of the Psychedelic Furs' first singles, "Pretty In Pink" had that hard-hitting snare blast intro and then walls of roaring distorted guitar riffs, and the unmistakable slurry sneery voice of Richard Butler. Here's their 1986 Top of the Tops performance.

The film's biggest hit, however, was the breakthrough of synth poppers OMD (formerly Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark) and their "If You Leave." Thankfully, the duo was just hitting its stride when this took them over the fence, and they didn't miss a beat with more excellent songs to follow, although none as big as this one.

Leave it to Hughes to dream up this memorable scene when Duckie (Jon Cryer) skids into the record store, doing an amazing lip synch to soul legend Otis Redding's "Try A Little Tenderness" to try and win Molly Ringwald's heart.

FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF (1986) -- written and directed by John Hughes

In the ultimate hooky movie, Hughes dug up Swiss electronic group Yello's leering "Oh Yeah," which ended up on a million TV shows, films and commercials afterward until it wore itself out.

The movie's penultimate scene, of course, was Ferris (Matthew Broderick) crashing a mid-town Chicago parade and leading the marching band and dancers in a memorable version of "Twist and Shout."

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."