TOTAL MUSIC GEEK by Drew Kerr

Andrew Gold: 1951 - 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 13:58:00 +0000

I was very saddened to hear of Andrew Gold's sudden death in his sleep yesterday at the age of 59. Gold was truly a musical phenomenon of the 70s and 80s, and even if his name does not sound familiar, you know his songs.

His two biggest hits were the out-of-left-field 1977 psychodrama "Lonely Boy" and "Thank You For Being A Friend," the latter which went on to be the long-running theme song for the TV show "Golden Girls." While these two songs brought Gold his biggest success, they were far from his best work and don't even hint at the amazing jack-of-all-trades talent he was.

Gold's initial impact came as part of Linda Ronstadt's band in the first half of the 70s, when the singer was in her heyday. He helped pioneer the Ronstadt "Southern California" sound blending rock and country by arranging many of her hits and playing a very distinct twangy guitar. Think about the solo in the middle of Ronstadt's cover of the Everly Brothers' "When Will I Be Loved" and you'll know what I mean. Here's Ronstadt performing it on "The Midnight Special" with Gold on the left behind her.

His background vocals were very distinct on her recordings, and if you go through them, you'll definitely hear all those arranging, musical and vocal trademarks.

When Gold stepped out on his own, it was in the era of multi-instrumentalists, where people like Todd Rundgren, Stevie Wonder and Dan Fogelberg played nearly every instrument on their albums through the process of overdubbing. Gold mastered the guitar, bass and piano for many of his solo recordings.

While "Lonely Boy" (from his second album) and "Thank You For Being A Friend" (from his third album) brought him the biggest commercial success, it was his 1975 debut album that was by far his best. Loved by the critics and not selling many copies, Andrew Gold (cover seen above) was Southern California rock at its best, with touches of country and pop, but really the first look at his songwriting. We knew about his singing and playing, but man, this guy could write hooks the size of a skyscraper. Expert musicianship, sounding much like those distinct Ronstadt records, and lots of harmonies. Just a great album with 10 absolutely unforgettable songs.

It's also the first time the public got a taste of Gold's twisted sense of humor and storytelling: the ballad "Endless Flight," with some poor guy on a bumpy flight pondering the future of a relationship at the same time... another guy on the lam from a crime warns his girlfriend to "Hang My Picture Straight"....

Even if the record didn't sell, at least Gold got royalties from Leo Sayer's cover of "Endless Flight."

Beyond those two megahits (and writing the theme song for 90's sitcom "Mad About You"), Gold's song were not destined to last, as country/rock fell out of favor and even Ronstadt had to figure out what her next phase was going to be. Gold periodically released albums, including a mesmerizing tongue-in-cheek tribute to 60s psychedelia under pseudonym Fraternal Order of The All called Greetings From Planet Love. That album had a carbon copy Byrds song called "Somewhere In Space And Time," and nods to "Magical Mystery Tour"-era Beatles, and a John Lennon/Bob Dylan combo called "Mr. Plastic Business Man."

Another side project was really something out of a pop lover's dream -- teaming with 10cc's Graham Gouldman in 1988 to form Wax UK, which had a US cult following and something more than that in Europe. They had one fantastic single, "Bridge To Your Heart," which was accompanied by a crazy Peter Gabriel-ish video.

While many people will remember Gold for those two 70s hits, I will remember him for forging a unique rock sound in that era, writing many memorable songs that nobody would exactly call "easy," superb musicianship and frankly, I can't help but admire a guy who was as talented as he was.

He will definitely be missed.

Gerry Rafferty -- "Baker Street" (1978)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 01:01:00 +0000

Gerry Rafferty died today at the age of 63 years old after "a long illness."

While the name doesn't ring a bell with many people under the age of 40, I guarantee they've all heard his distinctive voice. I know my kids have. He sang lead on Steelers Wheel's 1972 hit "Stuck In The Middle With You," which of course later went down in cinema history in the famous ear-cutting scene in Quentin Tarantino's 1992 film "Reservoir Dogs."

It wasn't until 1978 that Rafferty achieved his biggest success, the City to City album, which contained several huge hits, but nothing compared to the impact of his "Baker Street" single.

The late 70s was a fruitful period for English singer/songwriters whose sophisticated tunes were carried away by equally imaginative hometown producers. In the hands of mega-producer/engineer Alan Parsons, folkie Al Stewart went through the roof with "Year Of The Cat," "On The Border" and "Time Passages," all elaborately orchestrated productions.

Rafferty followed the same blueprint with City to City, except with a slightly more Scottish flavor. Each song was at least five minutes long, little detailed stories of English lives, and you could best describe them as "sophisticated English folk pop." Producer Hugh Murphy supported each one with the best UK studio musicians, impeccable arrangements, and a warm, homey analog flavor.

"Baker Street" was the album signature song, with a killer saxophone hook that just echoed on and on. Trust me when I say that "Baker Street" was played on every radio station morning, noon, and night. This was another one of those songs where the lyrics were desolate while the melody was deceptively upbeat and happy.

Windin' your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head and dead on your feet
Well another crazy day
You'll drink the night away
And forget about everything
This city desert makes you feel so cold.
It's got so many people but it's got no soul
And it's taking you so long
To find out you were wrong
When you thought it had everything

You used to think that it was so easy
You used to say that it was so easy
But you're tryin'
You're tryin' now
Another year and then you'll be happy
Just one more year and then you'll be happy
But you're cryin'
You're cryin' now

Way down the street there's a lad in his place
He opens the door he's got that look on his face
And he asks you where you've been
You tell him who you've seen
And you talk about anything

He's got this dream about buyin' some land
He's gonna give up the booze and the one night stands
And then he'll settle down there's a quiet little town
And forget about everything

But you know he'll always keep movin'
You know he's never gonna stop movin
Cus he's rollin'
He's the rollin' stone

And when you wake up it's a new mornin'
The sun is shinin' it's a new morning
You're goin'
You're goin' home.

While "Baker Street" cleaned up, there were two other singles from the album, "Right Down The Line" and "Home And Dry" which hit the Top 40. I was a big fan of the first song, "The Ark," probably because it was atypically slow for an album opener, as well as the title "City to City" cut because nothing beats a good train song.

Rafferty never achieved anything close to this kind of success again and eventually faded from sight. He showed up on Mark Knopfler's beautiful soundtrack score to "Local Hero." For some reason, I remember reading an interview with him sometime in 2010 -- still as crusty as ever, railing against the recording industry -- but anxious to release more music.

Below are a few videos of Rafferty's hits from City to City -- "Baker Street" in its 4-minute form (originally 6 minutes on the album), "Right Down The Line" and "Home And Dry." Enjoy them -- Rafferty's best gleaming moments in music that he gave us.

Al Kooper -- "(Please Not) One More Time"

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 22:27:00 +0000

When you're the so-called "Zelig of rock and roll," you're entitled to do what you please.

Al Kooper can merit many pages of biography -- from the guy who played organ on Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone" to the man who discovered and produced Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Tubes, and perhaps you know he helped found Blood, Sweat & Tears? That's just the tip of the iceberg. Read his web site's bio and his "selected" discography.

Let's turn the dial back to 1977, and Kooper's seventh solo album, Act Like Nothing's Wrong, shows up at the college radio station as well as the school paper's music section. The cover catches my eye because let's face it -- it is damn weird with Kooper's head on a babe's body and the back cover is the reverse. And he is Al Kooper, he's got loads of credentials, and frankly, I didn't know what he sounded like as a solo artist.

Open up the record (on the late lamented United Artists label), and the inner sleeve reads: "Dedicated to my influences"followed by a long, long list of rock, pop, and soul artists. Never has a dedication worked so well on double duty describing what the album actually is.

Kooper has taken a collection of original and semi-obscure tunes and re-arranged them into the many recognizable styles of popular artists of the 70s. The whole album is a fun game of "spot the artist."

His own 60s hit, "This Diamond Ring," is reworked into a minor-key Little Feat funk workout. "Hollywood Vampire" is a paean to the dire L.A. landscape of Joe Walsh and The Eagles, notably the power chords of "Turn To Stone." And yes, that is Mr. Walsh guesting on slide guitar, in case you didn't make the connection.

For this post, I came really close to picking "She Don't Ever Lose Her Groove," a bobbing Al Green tribute where Kooper gets all soulful and hot and bothered, the Tower of Power horns doing a perfect mock-up of Willie Mitchell's old arrangements, and a killer fluid guitar solo at the end.

We went with the ridiculously catchy "(Please Not) One More Time," which can best be summed up like this: Steely Dan's "My Old School" meets The Beach Boys. Recorded with some of Nashville's finest musicians, Kooper meticulously gets every Fagen and Becker nuance right, with a hefty dose of Brian Wilson: up and down clavinet riff, ascending chord structure, mock horn riffs (including the dead-on break arrangement), and yes, lots and lots of layered Endless Summer-like vocals courtesy of the Ron Hicklin Singers.

And instead of tackling the good old days at Bard College, Kooper gets caught in the cross fire of a long-distance relationship between California and Atlanta, GA, along with some double-entendre rumors thrown in (not having the "energy to go down one more time?"). Hey, there can only be one Fagen and Becker.

Doesn't matter. Here is the very non-subtle "wear your influences on your sleeves" tune along with a video I created which is as much a tribute to Kooper as it is to the song itself.

Mike Finnigan -- "Just One Minute More" (1978)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 04 Dec 2010 16:48:00 +0000

What Boz Scaggs had wrought.

When Silk Degrees became a multi-million selling album in 1976, he basically busted open the door for blue-eyed soul like never before. Suddenly, it totally cool for white guys to sing soul music blatantly in the style of Motown, Philly and Stax. Of course, the guys who really took that concept to the bank were Daryl Hall and John Oates, right through most of the 80s.

But let's go back to the Silk Degrees era. In 1977, English guitarist Dave Mason had the biggest selling album of his career when Columbia Records paired him with producer Ron Nevison for a slickly-produced collection of catchy rock tunes. Mason's band was a collection of immensely talented musicians and composers. The single that drove it through the roof, "We Just Disagree," was written by his guitarist Jim Krueger. Also in the band was keyboardist Mike Finnigan, who had already played on Jimi Hendrix's Electric Ladyland and other classic rock records.

Mason's album Let It Flow sold tons, so all of a sudden those talented guys in his band had solo albums released on Columbia, who probably thought they could duplicate that success. While we will discuss Krueger's impressive Sweet Salvation another time, Finnigan released what was actually his second album under his own name, called Black and White.

Not a subtle reference, Black and White was like the Boz Scaggs album that Boz never did. Also produced by Nevison, Finnigan sounds remarkably like Mr. Scaggs' deep voice, powerful and emotional all at once. Other than covering Krueger's straightforward rock ballad, "The Words," every song is right out of the Philly and Chicago soul playbook, and it seems they were all written by, yes, white guys! One exception -- his completely fitting cover of The Soul Survivors' "Expressway To Your Heart."

Finnigan's keyboards are right up front, either with a B3 organ or piano, sometimes very gospel-ish, or downright bluesy. And this guy could sing. The obvious single was the unforgettable lead-off tune from the album, "Just One Minute More," co-written by music legend Al Kooper. All slick guitars, orchestration, Finnigan's insanely pleading vocals ("He wants you for decoration/But I need you just to live!"), and thumpety drums. It's just one of those songs you can't get out of your head, right out of another era.

These days, Finnigan is touring all over the world, welcomes just about anybody to friend him on Facebook (over 4,600 of them as of this writing), and contributes to the political blog Crooks & Liars in pretty much the same way he performs -- no holding back. If you want to hear true songcraft style and singing, well, let's go to the video... (and if you'd like the song, you can download the album from Mike himself)...

Walter Egan -- "Only The Lucky" (1977)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:55:00 +0000

One of the 70's biggest one hit wonders deserved a far better fate. Walter Egan's prom song "Magnet and Steel" was positively tongue in cheek and far inferior to the rest of the material he recorded. So let me set the record straight for everybody right now.

A Queens boy who went to Georgetown University, and then headed west to join surf bands, Egan had it all -- good looks, a very distinct voice (sort of reminiscent of Gerry Rafferty), and a knack for writing great little rock songs. He ended up being Lindsey Buckingham's first outside production job after his initial Fleetwood Mac album went through the roof.

They had an awful lot in common: an obvious worship of Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys, as well as a passion for innocence and simplicity. For their Egan's debut Columbia album, Fundamental Roll, Buckingham enlisted a coterie of prime southern California band musicians, and had his amour, Stevie Nicks, sing with Egan on at least half the tracks.

Imagine a very Fleetwood Mac-sounding album, except truly from a single west coast guy's point of view. From the first few moments of "Only The Lucky," when the drums smash the downbeat, and the acoustic and electric guitars jangle big major chords in unison, you know you are in "Go Your Own Way" territory, but without the complex Mick Fleetwood drum patterns. It's wistful betrayal, with a taste of defiance, done simple and true, going down to the minor chord for the chorus. Nicks is all over the song, even with that "ya-ooooo" during the fade out. And yes, that can only be Buckingham's distinct high up the neck guitar solo, right out of "Second Hand News." Notice that last chorus change to "Only the lucky and I will survive."

I had a dream just the other day
I dreamed that you would never be leavin' me
I still recall what you had to say
You said that you would always believe in me

Then I woke, as I always do
My dream was gone like darkness from the sky
Felt the pain and I saw the truth
Only the lucky in love survive

Only the lucky in love survive
Without love, you're just half alive
Only the lucky in love survive
Without love, I'd just as soon die

I gave my love and I gave my best
God only knows how good it felt to try
In the end, I'm alone again
'Cause only the lucky in love survive

Only the lucky in love survive
Without love, you're just half alive
Only the lucky in love survive
Without love, I'd just as soon die

Only the lucky and I will survive
Only the lucky and I will survive
I will

Studying many classic 60's based songwriters, like Neil Diamond, Paul McCartney, and Carole King, their chords were basic and easy -- they were all about the melodies and hooks. Egan mastered this craft as well, for the whole Fundamental Roll is just classic rock hook after hook, and the instrumentation is just right for his tales of lust, partying, girls, and cars -- sometimes going up a half a key just at the right moment. A couple of tunes have that early 60's kick drum "bum...bumbum" of many girl group hits.

If you are a Fleetwood Mac fan (especially Fleetwood Mac and its Rumors sequel), Walter Egan's first two albums are mandatory purchases (Fundamental Roll and Not Shy). Because of "Magnet and Steel," Not Shy came back into print a while ago on the Razor & Tie label then disappeared, while Fundamental Roll stayed dormant until recently, when Egan began reissuing copies of his early records. Those first two albums are now a two-fer on one CD. They can be bought new or used through Amazon, or as sparkling downloads from the very same site.

Any discussion of Fundamental Roll can not leave out the album's front and back covers. Israeli-born photographer Moshe Brakha, whose distinct style evoking movement, artifice, and sexiness, first made a splash with his cover shot for Boz Scaggs' Silk Degrees album. For Egan's debut record, the clear theme was "teenage lust," something that I could not possibly imagine him getting away with in this current hyper-sensitive era. At dusk, there's the boy-ish Egan standing next to a black muscle car while two sexy cheerleaders are crouching up to him approaching crotch level. And if that's not enough, the back cover was the same setting with Egan squeezing both girls standing up, their skirts hiked up, with white panties clearly showing. Some innocence!

After his album sales crashed, Egan rejoined the surf band he belonged to when he first made his way to California, the Malibooz, which still record and play to this day. One last Walter Egan fact you can amaze your friends with: he wrote the song "Hearts On Fire" for Gram Parsons' classic pioneering country-rock album Grievous Angel.

Enjoy this video I put together for "Only The Lucky," with audio the way it was meant to be heard! And below that, early MTV does a short news segment on the surf music revival, and interview Egan in his Malibooz guise.

Chilliwack -- "Fly At Night" (1977)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 04:30:00 +0000

Canada's sort of answer to the Eagles came blasting through down the hall from me at the very beginning of my junior year at SUNY at Buffalo.

Chris came from Ogdensburg, NY, a small city located in the very north corner of New York State, on the St. Lawrence River, right across from Canada. Setting up the first week of the semester, he put on Chilliwack's Dreams, Dreams, Dreams album on his stereo and had the whole floor mesmerized. And it was the lead off cut, "Fly At Night," that had everybody wondering who they were.

Living on the Canadian border probably gave Chris a lot of exposure to their FM rock radio. We didn't know who Chilliwack was, except they were named for some city in British Columbia and the lead singer had this crazy falsetto. No, not like fellow Canadian Geddy Lee, but imagine if somebody lit a fire under Bread's David Gates, told him to put down the wimpy guitar and sing hard and loud.

Starting with a beautiful D major arpeggio on acoustic guitar, "Fly At Night" was one of those patented rock group road songs, much like Grand Funk Railroad's "We're An American Band," Lynyrd Skynyrd's "What's Your Name," Canned Heat's "On The Road Again" and CSN's "Just A Song Before I Go." Except no girls, no drunks, no fights... it's Chilliwack's anthem about the magic of touring and connecting with the audience.

The band kicks in after the introductory verse, blending electric and acoustic guitars, a nice fuzzy Wurlitzer EP, turning this into one kick-ass road anthem. It's pure propelled gas from there, shifting into an A minor gear, and lead singer/songwriter Bill Henderson really catches you with that high pitched "Ah-aa-aaaaaaaa!" Think of the classic rock catalog, and you just don't hear lead falsettos all that much. Now here comes one and you say "What's that?"

Four men in a rock 'n roll band
Fly at night in the morning we land
Fly at night 'til we're satisfied
See the morning from the other side

And when you close your eyes
Sleep comes fast
When you fly the universe
Well, you need some rest
Yeah, you need some rest

Ooh, we like the big wide spaces
Yeah, we like a sea of faces
Time is just a rubber band
Time is at our command

And when we look out
And see you there
You seem much closer
And you feel so near
Yeah, you feel so near

Well we fly by night, it's like a rocket flight
And baby that's just what it's for
Yeah, we fly by night, it makes you feel alright
It keeps you coming back for more

[Guitar break]

Well we fly by night, it's like a rocket flight
And baby that's just what it's for
We fly by night, it makes you feel alright
It keeps you coming back for more

[Guitar break]

Four men in a rock 'n roll band
Fly at night in the morning we land
Fly at night 'til we're satisfied
See the morning from the other side.

It's funny but now listening to the song a few times over, it really is like that "rocket flight" described in the lyrics -- starting mid-tempo on acoustic guitar, bringing in the rest, careening at a breakneck speed, solos going all over the place and then screeching like brakes when it returns to the acoustic guitars again, and then one last mad run-through.

Two years later, mucking through graduate school at Syracuse University, I turned my roommate Vic onto the song, and it became a bit of an anthem for our apartment. We'd pull out our guitars and play and sing along because this was an absolute blast. Frankly, nobody knew who Chilliwack was unless you lived north of the Peace Bridge, but this song was imprinted and crystallized like our little secret.

The entire side one of Dreams, Dreams, Dreams was a pleasure to listen to. However, "Fly At Night" is truly one of the greatest rock road anthems that nobody ever heard. Below is my homemade video.

The Smithereens -- "A Girl Like You" (1989)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 04:37:00 +0000

After new wave succumbed to corporate rock, there were still a number of breaking bands who were determined not to succumb to shareholder mainstreaming or the wild excesses of hair metal.

The radio dug The Smithereeens right out of the box with two singles, "Blood and Roses" and "Behind the Wall Of Sleep," minor key crunchers that introduced the world to songwriter Pat DiNizio (the latter name checking, of all people, swinging 60's English model Jean Shrimpton). While clearly a huge fan of the Beatles and garage rock, DiNizio's lyrics were always full of pain, anxiety and difficulties with the opposite sex.

Capitol snapped them up and big things were expected of them, miraculously, because they certainly didn't fit in with any of the slick acts of the time. Some classify them as power pop, but I just don't hear it.

Four working class rock musicians from New Jersey, bar band veterans. In a way, they were the great rock hope in 1989.

Their second Capitol album, Green Thoughts, was more bummed-out rock, spewing out one great single, "Only A Memory," but not taking them any further artistically.

11 changed the picture -- they brought in New York rock producer/engineer Ed Stasium, known for his work on all the early Ramones and Talking Heads album. He cleared up the Smithereen's sound, deepened the production to show off the band's chops and seemingly got DiNizio to lighten up for a song or two.

"A Girl Like You" is about as good an album opener as you can ask for, and undoubtedly the band's best song. A showcase for recording double-tracked electric guitars, the song has one of the most head-shaking, catchiest, moving in multiple direction riffs in the genre. When Denny Diken's drums pound in hard after a few bars, you feel surrounded by the band. Diken plays around with the different upbeats of that riff, slamming the cymbals and kick at the same time on the unexpected offbeats.

Yes, there's plenty of DiNizio anxiety, as he always seems to build women up with great worship and then get let down by them, sending him into some dark bummerland.

I used to travel in the shadows
And I never found the nerve to try and walk up to you
But now I am a man and I know that there's no time to waste
There's too much to lose
Girl you say anything at all, and you know that you can call
And I'll be right there for you
First love, heartbreak, tough luck, big mistake
What else can you do

I'll say anything you want to hear
I'll see everything through
I'll do anything I have to do
Just to win the love of a girl like you, a girl like you

People talk and people stare, tell them I don't really care
This is the place I should be
And if they think it's really straange for a girl like you
To be in love with someone like me
I wanna tell them all to go to hell
That we're doing very well without them you see
That's just the way it is and they will see
I am yours and you are mine the way it should be

Now if I seem a little wild, there's no holding back
I'm trying to get a message to you
I won't take anything from anyone
I won't walk and I won't run, I believe in you
London, Washington, anywhere you are I'll run
Together we'll be
Inside, outside, got my pride
I won't let him take you from me.

Stasium mixes in a piano chopping chords down on the 8ths, and yes, there's even the Go-Go's Belinda Carlisle joining in on some of the verses. Yes, this is a song that is meant to be played loud.

While they had a handful of mixed results albums that followed, the last three Smithereens albums over the past few years have been enjoyable cover albums of early Beatles singles and The Who's Tommy. I'm sure the Smithereens can play these songs superbly with their eyes closed, as they probably were doing it as teenagers years ago. Also worth checking out: their gritty cover of The Outsiders' "Time Won't Let Me" on their Blown To Smithereens greatest hits album (see video below with Jean Claude Van Damme).

The Knack's Doug Fieger -- in memorium

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 14:47:00 +0000

Doug Fieger, lead singer and songwriter of the successful and influential power pop band The Knack, died on Valentine's Day after a long battle with lung cancer. It's a very sad end to an amazing musical life.

I knew he was sick during this time, but he still continued to give interviews. He gave a terrific one in January 2008 to Vintage Guitar magazine about his amazing collection of equipment, growing up loving rock and roll, and the impact of the classic single "My Sharona." There was no mention of his illness in the article.

"You can have the same equipment, but unless you've got Jimmy Page's fingers, you ain't gonna sound like Jimmy Page," Fieger says. "Still, as a collector, I like having what a lot of the players that inspired me had."

According to the obituary that appeared in his hometown Detroit News newspaper, Fieger told the paper just last month, "I don't know any better than anyone else when I'm going. I've had 10 great lives. And I expect to have some more. I don't feel cheated in any way, shape or form."

The Knack's premiere album, Get The Knack, sold 6 million copies and brought back a love for 60's-era British invasion guitar rock and roll to the world. Although their aping of the Beatles caused a huge backlash and ridiculous expectations for the band's second album, they kept plugging away making great music and giving no quarter.

If you have any doubts of the staying power of "My Sharona," then you can remember the funny scene from the 1994 film "Reality Bites" (shown below) or that the song is featured in an edition of the video game Guitar Hero.

Their third album, Round Trip, produced by Jack Douglas (Aerosmith, John Lennon), gave them a bigger, in-your-face sound, and featured one of my favorites of theirs, a tour de force called "Africa."

Leaving Capitol for Charisma for the one off Serious Fun, old Detroit buddy Don Was roughed up the band's sound, gave the guitars more edge, but the songs were still there, like "Rocket o' Love" and the title cut.

The band continued releasing records periodically with mixed results, such as Zoom and Normal As The Next Guy.

What Fieger should be remembered for is finding a grand musical vision and sticking with it. Clearly, he was mesmerized by the melodic rock songwriting of the 60's, grew up learning how to play and collecting these instruments that mean so much to him. Even when the critics turned on The Knack and eventually the public went along, he still believed in the three-minute rock song with hooks and harmonies, lots of guitars, and the angst of a teenager.

I own a wonderful DVD the Knack did in 2002 called Live From The Rock 'n' Roll Fun House, where three quarters of the original band do a fantastic staged run through of many of their great songs.

Below is a video memorial for Doug Fieger and The Knack, starting with a local cable interview he did in Rhode Island. You'll notice that a number of these performances were from the past few years, when Fieger was battling cancer, but that did not stop him. Rest in piece, Mr. Fieger.

Squeeze -- "Another Nail In My Heart"/"Pulling Mussels From The Shell" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 03:23:00 +0000

I don't think A&M Records knew what to make of Squeeze or how to market them when they first landed in the US in the late 70's. It was a perfect storm of bad luck and timing that kept them off my personal radar, although my brother Scott was obsessed by them.

At first, they were known as "UK Squeeze," probably because of some legal hassle, and that was how they were named on their first album. Second, it was the height of the punk movement, they came from the UK, so they were falsely lumped together with that whole lot. The first UK Squeeze album encouraged this image by not showing the band, but a washed out colored-in photo of a circus strongman pushing his thick arms together.

I witnessed America's reception to them first hand -- during my time at university in Buffalo, they were the opening act at the Memorial Auditorium (was it Blue Oyster Cult?) and they were consistently booed, with things thrown at them on stage. I think I even heard that keyboardist Jools Holland got his hand cut open from that nasty welcoming committee. And if Blue Oyster Cult was the headliner, what the hell was Squeeze doing on the bill?

Still, my brother Scott was playing "Take Me I'm Yours" and "Cool For Cats" over and over, and I promptly ignored it. I think the words that came to mind were "cheap" and "cheesy," was these were low-budget recordings done on basic analog synths.

So imagine my surprise, post-graduation, running around in New York City, as punk slowly gave way to New Wave, that Squeeze got their budget upped and released ArgyBargy. WPIX-FM and WLIR-FM, the two brave local stations that spun a non-stop playlist of all this great new music, added "Another Nail In My Heart" to the roster.

Now, I could not avoid them and oh, they were a pop band! And I could not get that damn chorus out of my head now:

And here in the bar,
The piano man's found
Another nail in my heart.

What sealed the deal was the follow-up single, "Pulling Mussels from The Shell." My hats off to composinig team Chris Difford and Glenn Tilbrook for coming up with that title and not even bothering to create a rhyme for it. This second British invasion featured lyrics full of English slang, twist and turns ("the cricket's creepy?"), stories about single punters running into trouble and drinking heavily, all in compact little pop melodies. Were these the same guys who barely survived leaving the stage in Buffalo?

ArgyBargy broke Squeeze and finally we all could see past the misguided attempts to sell them as a punk band or whatever A&M was concocting. From there, Squeeze built upon each successful album -- they were a pop band, damn it, one of the best. And at some point, they had better make it into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

To bring the story full circle, Difford and Tilbrook reunited as Squeeze with two new hires, and toured the States in 2008. I bought tickets to one of their two sold out concerts at the Beacon on the Upper West Side, and my guest was my brother Scott, who had their number down all along.

How much adoration did these guys get? From the moment they hit the stage with "Take Me I'm Yours," the audience never sat down, singing along to every blessed lyric. The band barely took a break, seguing from one classic to another for more than 90 minutes straight. And who should open up for them? A more appropriate booking -- their brothers in pop, Fountains of Wayne.

Below, the official video of "Another Nail In My Heart" from 1980, and then fast forward to that 2008 reunion tour, where Squeeze stopped by the A&E cable TV show "Private Sessions" to do "Pulling Mussels From The Shell."

Squeeze Performs on A&E's Private Sessions!!! - For more funny movies, click here

Rick Derringer -- "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" (1973)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 04:02:00 +0000

One of the forgotten 70's rock classics, this is one of those songs that when you hear it, you can't help saying to yourself, "Damn, that is a good song. Can't get tired of that one." This should be a staple of every 70's rock cover band.

Rick Derringer had himself quite rock and roll resume. As a member of the McCoys, he played on their one big hit, "Hang On Sloopy." He went on to join Edgar Winter's White Trash, which fused blues, rock and R&B, best known for their horn-driven FM cult favorite, "Keep Playing That Rock and Roll."

Derringer had originally written "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" when he was with the band, yet it was recorded first by Edgar's brother Johnny and then on the Edgar Winter's White Trash live album, Roadwork, with Johnny on guest vocals and absurdly Texas-fried distorted guitar.

With his boy-ish good looks, pop songwriting leanings and insane guitar talent, it was a no-brainer for Derringer to step out on his own with a deal on CBS-distributed Blue Sky Records. All-American Boy was a highly-polished affair that came bursting out of the gate like a rocket with a revved-up "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo," the one Derringer could claim as his own and the true classic. Producer Bill Szymczyk was already making himself known as a commercial rock producer, who would go on to produce The Eagles, Joe Walsh, Dan Fogelberg and others.

Derringer's version had hit written all over it -- boogie rhythm, catchy melody, nonsense "teen" lyrics about a night out listening to a band called the Jokers, picking up a girl and having sex with her "behind the barn," a ridiculous blues tag played after every verse line, and one of the best guitar solos laid down in the 70's.

Since I was teaching myself guitar in high school, I was picking up everything I could learn like a vacuum cleaner. One night I went to see a few guys jam in a neighborhood basement, led by a guitarist nicknamed "Mousy" (!) and they played "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" note for note. It was that night that I learned the power of the barre chord -- hammering the index finger down across the fret to create not only play inversions but fuller sounding chords. I discovered "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" was a barre chord field day from the very opening F chord to the slipping and sliding over the chorus.

In under four minutes, there were actually a lot of little catchy moving parts for a guitarist to learn: the bending G note on the bottom string that went down to the E just before every verse, the sliding E7th notes that started on one octave and zipped up another right that part, that A minor blues lick after every verse line, and the precision stops and starts of the final chorus.

While Rick never duplicated the success of "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo," he did pretty well for himself. He had the fortune (misfortune?) of marrying and eventually divorcing rock photographer/quasi-groupie Liz Derringer. I met Liz years later shooting concerts at Radio City Music Hall and she didn't have many nice things to say about her ex.

Derringer discovered Weird Al Yancovic (yep!) and played on and produced his first albums. And if you're a Steely Dan fan, he had his moments with them, adding slide guitar to "Show Biz Kids" on the Countdown to Ecstacy album and one of the many who contributed to Katy Lied. Not long ago on SiriusXM radio, I heard a cut from a recent blues album Derringer had recorded and it sounded so good, that it's on my shopping list now.

You want to get a dose of that dynamo in his prime, here is Rick doing "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" backed by The Edgar Winter Band (yes, that's Dan Hartman you'll see there). And that's followed by Johnny Winter sitting down playing a stripped-down electrified cover version with just a bassist.

David Mead -- "Sweet Sunshine"/"Telephone" (1999)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 12:10:00 +0000

After reading a rave review online on some power pop site, I bought David Mead's RCA Records debut The Luxury of Time without having heard a note of it in advance. Remember those compulsive times?

I'm not quite sure I'd classify Mead as "power pop," although I'm sure there are those who could stretch him under that umbrella.

Mead is a classic pop/rock singer-songwriter craftsman with an amazing voice, how's that?

So you know there's no way this guy is going to last on a major label the way that music is marketed and produced, too. Unless he was going to sell at least a couple of hundred thousand albums, RCA would set him free.

Too bad, because this record is like a lost gem of great music, the kind of individual statement that very few songwriters can make on a major label. Lyrically, Mead is akin to Paul Simon, concocting personal pictures about the inability to move on in life ("Landlocked"), the collapse of 60's idealism ("Robert Bradley's Postcard"), and taking yourself too seriously ("World of A King"). Musically, the influences are definitely Simon & Garfunkel, The Beatles and The Smiths.

What's remarkable about the first album is the production by Peter Collins, an Englishman who did the same duties for Canadian power trio Rush, Queenryche, Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper, Musical Youth ("Pass The Dutchie!"), Nik Kershaw and Tracey Ullman ("They Don't Know"). You wouldn't exactly think Collins and Mead would be a match, but they click in an unexpected way. Instead of making Mead's sonic palette all singer/songwriter-y with sparse arrangements, Collins lays it on thick with electric and acoustic guitars, reverbs, and delays in a full rock production.

You can just tell that the production is English and not American. I think an American producer would have used Bridge Over Troubled Water or an early Simon album as a reference. Collins went the route of 80's English rock, as the drums are big, the guitars are layered, delayed and EQ'd perfectly, and it all crunches when it has to with a distinct analog warmth.

My two favorite songs on The Luxury of Time are "Sweet Sunshine" and "Telephone." Besides being absurdly hook-happy, they are marvels of a musical artist hitting on all cylinders. Mead's vocals naturally swoop, even within verses and choruses. "Sweet Sunshine" is like walking down the street on the sunniest day of the year and you can feel this guy's head soaring. The opening of "Telephone" is right out of the manic offbeat drum pattern of The Beatles' "Tomorrow Never Knows" and then straightens out to 4/4 for the choruses.

Mead's second RCA album, Mine and Yours, was produced by Fountain of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger, and with its lack of blockbuster sales, was the ticket out the door. What followed were much more intimate albums on indie labels, each one a remarkable showcase for his talents, and two of them produced by everybody's favorite Nashville-based power pop producer, Brad Jones (see Josh Rouse's "Winter In The Hamptons").

Below are some video treats. First, since RCA didn't spring for the videos themselves, I made one for both "Sweet Sunshine" and "Telephone" so you can hear these great songs with Collins' deep production. Then Mead performing each of these songs solo on acoustic guitar from a gig in Philadelphia, and finally, from Chicago in fall 2009, he does Paul Simon's "Only Living Boy in New York" (a cover which he did on the soundtrack to the TV show "Everwood," released in 2002).

Graham Parker and The Rumour -- "Mercury Poisoning" (1979)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 17:37:00 +0000

Part of the three great angry English men who burst out of the music scene in the late 70's (the other two were Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson), Graham Parker earned his chops on the famous pub rock circuit, which gave us Nick Lowe, Dave Edmunds, Brinsley Schwarz and much of the late Stiff label roster.

While Costello drew from early 60's rock and Jackson rocketed across short, sharp songs, the always-in-aviator-shades Parker was heavily influenced by Motown and other soul music genres which he wore on his sleeve. He infused his rock periodically with Funk Brothers licks and reggae beats ("Don't Ask Me Questions"). With his mates, Parker played as a true band and their recordings were full of energy, a totally live vibe, and often with his own four-piece horn section.

In the first years of his recording career on the Mercury label, Parker cut cover versions of soul classics like a stomping "Hold Back The Night" (by the Trammps), that had the twin guitar attack Thin Lizzy made famous, and The Jackson Five's "I Want You Back," which stays true to the original, as much as nobody sounds like Michael and his brothers!

However, unlike those R&B songs he clearly loved, Parker was full of rage and agony. His lyrics showed a man who didn't believe in compromises in love and friendship, yet often felt betrayed. He didn't suffer fools, and wasn't afraid of sharpening that poison pen in his lyrics. He always had a penchant for two things: somehow bringing in the weather in his lyrics (often raining, with thunderstorms) and making his chorus the entire title of his song ("Passion Is No Ordinary Word," "Discovering Japan," "Stick To Me"). Parker's tunes were anthemic and bluntly confessional sometimes ("Fool's Gold" and "Pouring It All Out"). My friend John's college floor hockey team was named after Parker's "Heat Treatment" and blasted it before each game.

Savvy artists covered his songs, notably his buddy Dave Edmunds ("Back To Schooldays" and "Crawling From The Wreckage") and what I consider to be the definitive version of his song "Thunder and Rain," performed on a long out-of-print album on CBS by singer/actress Ellen Foley (definitely the subject of a future post -- she belted the female date role in Meat Loaf's famous "Paradise By The Dashboard Light").

Parker wanted to break the US market in the worst way, and deservedly so considering his talent. Watching his buddy and former producer Nick Lowe climb on to US radio with "So It Goes" and "Cruel To Be Kind" didn't sit well with him. Finally, after he released a three-sided live album The Parkerilla to fulfill his contract (yes, in the vinyl days, you could do this!), Parker moved to Arista Records.

His first post-Arista signing recording was a bootleg single aimed right at the record company who he felt failed to promote him properly. Usually wrath is incurred towards ex-girlfriends and other creeps, but Parker packed all the venom he could to blast Mercury Records, which truly marked the end of his "pub rock and soul era." A collector's item (which I have somewhere in a box in my basement), the one-sided "Mercury Poisoning" single had a skull and crossbones on the label. And yes, this is probably the catchiest singalong record label blow-off you'll ever hear.

No more pretending now,
the albatross is dying in its nest.
The company is crippling me,
the worst trying to ruin the best, the best.

Their promotion's so lame
They could never ever take it to the real ball game.
Maybe they think I'm a pet,
Well I've got all the diseases
I'm breaking out in sweat, you bet, because

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.

The boys and me are getting real well known around town
But every time we try to spread the action
Someone always brings it down, down.
I ate the orange and I don't feel well
For them it's inconvenience for me it's hell.
The geriatric staff think we're freaks.
They couldn't sell kebabs to the Greeks, the geeks,
Inaction speaks, and

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.

Is this a Russian conspiracy,
no it's just idiocy.
Is this a Chinese burn
I gotta dinosaur for a representative
It's got a small brain and it refuses to learn!

Their promotion's so lame
They could never ever take it to the real ball game.
Listen I ain't a pet,
I ain't a token hipster for your monopoly set
You bet because...

I got, Mercury poisoning
It's fatal and it don't get better!
I got, Mercury poisoning
The best kept secret in the
we--est, hey the we--est.

Now a triple live video treat from Graham Parker -- one original and two covers from the Mercury era: First, "Mercury Poisoning" from Japan in 1979... then "Hold Back The Night" from the BBC's "Top Of The Pops in 1977... and finally, "I Want You Back" (featuring some inaccurate voiceover in the beginning talking about Parker's first two albums "in 1969!").

Blood, Sweat & Tears -- "Spinning Wheel" (1969)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 02:50:00 +0000

It's amazing to think that in rock history, there were only two jazz/rock bands that ever became huge: Blood, Sweat & Tears and Chicago. While both were pioneers that began in the late 60's, they could not have been more different: Chicago was a rock band with jazz elements, powered by a guitarist who worshiped Jimi Hendrix (the late Terri Kath), and had more hits than I have fingers and toes that went on for a few decades.

On the other hand, Blood, Sweat & Tears was a jazz band with rock chops, a big band New York vibe that swung hard, and like "The Natural," they soared to mystical heights once early on and never got it back again.

While initially an experiment conceived by rock Zelig Al Kooper for their debut album, Kooper departed, and in stepped lead singer David Clayton-Thomas, the stars aligned and they produced the magical album Blood, Sweat & Tears. Ironically, this album, and most of Chicago's classic output were produced by the same man, James William Guercio.

Like a bunch of West 52nd Street jazz escapees who wanted to put some rock juice into the mix, Blood, Sweat & Tears were the truest combination of the two genres: merging bluesy rock with bebop swing and chords you just never heard on Top 40 radio before. As a matter of fact, this was a band where you really had to listen to all the parts, because they were just such accomplished musicians that there was no member who really played "normal" rock style -- they were all skilled moving cogs in the wheel.

And that wheel was "Spinning Wheel," the second single from the album that just blew the roof off and you couldn't hide from it. I urge you to listen to the bass, because it's all over the place, not like any rock song at the time. Like all the best BS&T songs, the arrangement was amazing, horns blasting up and down like the song's immortal opening "what goes up" line, key builds between verses, and clever spaces to let Bobby Columby's airy drum riffs cut between the lines.

Happy enough with the single, the album version went a full minute longer with a crazy jazz jam break, featuring an extroverted Maynard Ferguson-type trumpet solo, swinging piano chords mixed clearly in another speaker, and a sax blast right off a Sonny Rollins album.

That never-heard-it-before rumble earned them a spot on the bill at Yasgur's Farm. Think about it -- this large group of intellectual-looking studious jazz/rock nerds actually played Woodstock, surrounded by the pinnacles of raw hippie culture and acid rock like Jefferson Airplane, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Ten Years After, Sly & The Family Stone, and Crosby, Stills & Nash.

I had my own personal musical connection to the song back in junior high school. Pushing aside the classical pieces of my old world piano teacher, I became a regular buyer of rock sheet music at Sam Goody, Colony and other stores. "Spinning Wheel" was one of them, because it started so promptly on that groovy E7th-A7th-D7th-G piano bass note riff. Man, I practiced that song over and over, because I was heading to the elementary school talent show to play what I knew. The real bitch of the song was that wacky jazz chord, one I had to really put my fingers in some weird formation, when the "let the spinning wheel turn" line came up. You know that part -- it's like a cross between a major and minor chord.

When I had my chance on the baby grand piano at the Robert H. Goddard JHS stage, I got nervous and fumbled. I don't even remember if I finished the whole song. All I know is the girl piano prodigy got up shortly afterward and played the whole damn thing perfectly with no sheet music in front of her.

Below, you have Blood, Sweat & Tears doing the single version of "Spinning Wheel" on live TV back in '69 (and the only solo is Steve Katz's little guitar number), followed by the full album version below it.

Taxiride -- "Everywhere You Go" (1999)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 04:35:00 +0000

Another shot in the dark after reading about them on power pop web-based publications like fufkin.com. I liked what I heard streaming over Not Lame's web site, so I bought it on Amazon.

Now I know you're saying -- who are these guys? This was a major label album, on Warner Brothers, that received zero promotion or push, and disappeared faster than a sinking stone.

Debuting smack in the middle of boy band fever, Taxiride looks like they were packaged the same way because, hey, four guys singing, just like The Backstreet Boys! However, the only things they had in common were the same gene set.

Taxiride was signed out of Melbourne, Australia, and it was probably Warners' hope that four good looking guys could ride that N' Sync fad. Just a listen to the very first song from the debut album Imaginate, and you knew this was not some manufactured pseudo hip-hop or heavy ballad silliness. Warners recruited master mixer and producer Jack Joseph Puig to put the polish on these boys. "Can You Feel" was all acoustic guitars and four part harmonies, like a modernized Crosby, Still & Nash, with no drums, bass or keyboards, and rather enveloping to the ears.

The killer song was "Everywhere You Go," which is really the perfect pop rock song, blending acoustic and electric guitars, all those great vocals, production ear candy courtesy of Puig, and the full band playing. And unlike boy bands, who had the Swedish pop machines creating all their material, Taxiride wrote all of their own material.

In learning how to mix over the years, the mantra you hear over and over again is "make it exciting," and this song is definitely a Puig masterclass. If you've heard similar Goo Goo Dolls tune "Slide," which Puig also did the honors, the instruments and vocals have their own space, each one EQ'd precisely in the sound field, everything just builds up from a simple guitar strum, smooths out in the break, subtle use of delays during the second chorus, and little counter reactions to the beat that take over your mind and you don't even realize it.

I played "Everywhere You Go" for my daughter in my car a few years ago, and she made me repeat it a few times immediately, then requested I burn it for her on a CD. That's how addicting a great all around pop rock song can be.

Taxiride's success may have been contained strictly in Australia, and Imaginate relegated immediately to the cut-out bins, they've left us this hidden musical gem.

Strangely enough, the song's official video has a "rougher mix," which seems to have pushed the acoustic guitars back or out altogether, and put the "telephone EQ" effect for the intro. So you should definitely listen to the original version here and then check out the video version below.

Leon Russell -- "Tightrope" (1972)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 20:32:00 +0000

Leon Russell was sort of the white man's Billy Preston -- he played on a ton of famous artists' albums and then struck out on his own.

Part of a group of Oklahoma musicians who migrated to LA's burgeoning recorded music scene (including Bread's David Gates), Russell was writing and playing on all kinds of hit songs throughout the 60's. He actually co-wrote one of my favorite 60's pop tunes, Gary Lewis & The Playboys' "She's Just My Style" and the Carpenters' made a signature tune out of their cover of his "Superstar."

Russell was jamming in everybody's band, bringing a flourishing rock style of piano that combined New Orleans ragtime and gospel blues feel. He had to of the most famous live gigs in the late 60's -- part of the all-star band on George Harrison's "Concert for Bangladesh" and having a few moments of his own with a "Jumping Jack Flash/Young Blood" medley... and Joe Cocker's "Mad Dogs and Englishmen" tour, where they slammed out their famous reworking of The Box Tops' "The Letter."

As was the case with many artists before the 90's, Russell cranked out solo albums that didn't sell much until fate smiled on his solo album Carney. It was probably one of those magic moments where the music just clicked with FM radio at the time, perhaps they were just getting used to his highly slurred voice, because I remember New York rock radio playing "Magic Mirror," "Roller Derby" and more than anything else, "Tightrope."

"Tightrope" was just a plain strange song, clearly the inspiration for the sideshow-like title of the album. Dealing out the metaphor of musician as circus performer, the song jaunted along like a see saw, with brief pauses for a kick drum pounding out three beats. The piano sounded detuned, like it had been played on and moved around for years. Russell's voice sounds like's it's slithering all over the place, on the verge of goofy, especially when he sings "like a rubber necked gi-raffe."

The most ingenious part of "Tightrope" was the break, where Russell plays traditional circus chords, while the snare builds up as if following a tightrope walker, and then he ends it with a schmaltzy C9th up the keyboard (Russell loved his 6th and 9th chords).

I'm up on the tightrope
one side's hate and one is hope
but the top hat on my head is all you see.

I'm up on the tight wire
one side's ice and one is fire
it's a circus game with you and me.

And the wire seems to be
the only place for me
a comedy of errors
and I'm falling.

Like a rubber-neck giraffe
you look into my past
well maybe you're just to blind to - see.

I'm up in the spotlight
ohh does it feel right
ohh the altitude
seems to get to me.

I'm up on the tight wire
flanked by life and the funeral pyre
putting on a show
for you to see.

I don't think the radio every really played any Russell album after Carney, but he's still raking in the royalties from one song in particular off that collection -- jazz guitarist George Benson turned "This Masquerade" into a cocktail jazz classic that sold a billion copies in 1976 and beyond.

Here's Leon Russell's original version of "Tightrope," followed by a solo live version from 2002, in his old hippie long white flowing beard and hat look. Notice how his mouth is so close to the microphone, that he looks like he's going to eat it.

America -- "Three Roses" (1971)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 04:50:00 +0000

At first, it's not quite apparent why three Army brats with acoustic guitars would become a certified smash with their breezy, nonsensical hit "A Horse With No Name." You could not go three minutes without hearing that song on the radio with its "laa laa la-la-la-la" chorus and Neil Young-like singing.

Looking back, I'm convinced that these guys were kind of a musical bridge between the tumultuous 60's and the post-war early 70's. These good looking hippies were deeply rooted in acoustic folk music, and not threatening or singing about war or pain, but represented a safe nomadic freedom.

America didn't become a "pop group" in the formal sense until Warner Brothers paired them with Beatles producer George Martin three albums later. They were far more interesting when you could actually hear them playing their guitars. For all the grief the band took over the years from critics calling them wimps, there were far wussier acts (i.e. Air Supply, who I always thought epitomized the musical artist that truly needed to be shot and made to disappear immediately).

Because of those acoustic leanings, America were the poster boys for 70's soft rock. In 9th grade, one of my friends used to make fun of their sometimes obtuse lyrics. Later on in my college junior year, there was a guy named Sal down the hall who absolutely worshiped them, and a sure fire way to get him ticked was getting him drunk and making fun of America (hard to believe).

The debut album was a mixed affair. Besides the sand and congas "Horse With No Name" and the disaffected and sappy "I Need You," there were two cult FM radio hits -- the foreboding "Sandman" (with its hard A minor strums that everybody seems to recognize even now) and the brisk "Three Roses."

If you say "well, what did America really bring that was unique to rock music" and even though they may not be hip enough to ever be elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, "Three Roses" showed what would happen if you miked acoustic guitars very close, made the EQ quite airy on the high end and played full, open ringing chords -- their trademark for years to come.

When Fountains of Wayne's Adam Schlesinger was interviewed a couple of years ago about producing America's very recent Here and Now album (with former Smashing Pumpkins guitarist James Iha!), he actually cited loving those very same musical techniques. So if a pop whiz like Schlesinger could endorse America, then their hipness badge was finally earned. It's now totally acceptable to like America, even as a guilty pleasure.

"Three Roses" was just flat out ear-catching because of the aforementioned guitar style and an unusual set of chords concocted by America's Dewey Bunnell. You had a piercing A major 7th up the neck, an F#m 7th with an E bass, a very open E minor 9th then back to that F#m 7th, all accompanied by a lively conga player, then joined only by a warm and active electric bass. No drums. The strings were brushed across very fast so they almost sounded like a harpsichord to me. A light and pretty melody, slightly corny lyrics ("Three roses were bought/With you in mind") and uplifting harmonies.

For me, this was a perfect song to play along to because it was all big acoustic guitar chords. I was not used to playing the instrument with such big open chords at such fast speed. I used my pick to make the treble notes ring, especially on the Emin9th-A7th chorus, then figured out the solo that ends the last minute or so of the song, right until it transitions to an Fmaj7th-G pattern at the end.

Blue Magic -- "Sideshow"/"Stop To Start" (1974)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 03:21:00 +0000

Any discussion of Blue Magic's Side Show has to begin with this observation: between classic Motown and 70's Philly soul, composers had the most incredible run of slogans, warnings, metaphors, plays on words and sayings incorporated into songs. That was a formula that couldn't miss. Bonus points for a mention of "mama."

"Shop Around." "Ball of Confusion." "You Can't Hurry Love." "Stop! In The Name of Love." "Signed, Sealed, Delivered." "The Tears Of A Clown." "The Hunter Gets Captured By The Game." "I Second That Emotion.""Can I Get A Witness." "Standing In The Shadows of Love." "ABC." "The Love You Save." "Love Train." "One Monkey Don't Stop No Show." "Want Ads." "Pay The Piper." "Crumbs Off The Table"

OK. Now I've got that out of my system...

The great Philly soul sound of the 70's was not just made by Gamble & Huff or Thom Bell, but other related production teams who just perfected was already in the bag. For Blue Magic, it was the WMOT team, starring producer Norm Harris, who packaged former members of the Delfonics and other local doo-wop groups (as was often the case), backed them with the legendary Philadelphia house band MFSB and out came the hits.

Could you tell the difference between Blue Magic and the Stylistics? Not really. But the quality was high in all cases.

Now it wasn't just the impeccable orchestral and brass arrangements, the major seventh chords, the corny lyrics, the glowing harmonies, the matching ruffled suits, or even the enviable falsetto of Ted Mills for groups like Blue Magic.

It was the moves.

Everybody was in classic precision with each other, much like the Motown groups like The Temptations and Gladys Knight & The Pips before them. There was always the lead singer -- kind of like the straight man who did his own thing -- and then there was the rest of the group, who twirled, swayed, and spun around in mechanical lock-step choreography.

Blue Magic's two incredible hits from 1974 -- "Sideshow" and "Stop To Start" were state of the art Philly soul musical productions with the robotic moves to match, true snapshots of an amazing era in soul performances. You have got to love the opening touches of "Sideshow" with the carnival barker calling: "Hurry! Hurry! Step right up and see the side show in town for 50 cents." And the chorus for "Stop to Start," that is inane when you think about it but it just works for this time period: "I only stop/So we can start all over again."

Special note: other real Blue Magic song titles (do you sense a gimmick?) -- "Three Ring Circus." "Born On Halloween." And the real album titles: The Magic of The Blue. How about Thirteen Blue Magic Lane?

Watch both of these 1974 videos from the TV show Soul Train because they are just unbelievable. A bit campy? Somewhat jaw dropping? Even I feel that way looking at them now and I lived through this back then! It's packaged soul music like we shall never see again.

STOP TO START / BLUE MAGIC　[レンタルサーバー]

The Plimsouls -- "A Million Miles Away" (1983)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 05:15:00 +0000

One of the defining bands of the New Wave era, although the closest they ever had to a hit was "A Million Miles Away," one of the poster children for CD collections of the time.

While some New Wave bands added plenty of synths and others did short poppy rock songs wearing skinny ties, the Plimsouls were your way better than average garage rock band, playing mostly minor key dirty rockers with an occasional nod to R&B and soul.

Led by Peter Case (who eventually became a solo troubadour when the band broke up), the Plimsouls stood by the garage rock aesthetic, three guys furiously bashing their guitars amped up into overdrive, a wild and crazy drummer, and a pack of excellent songs either putting down women or madly chasing them.

The Plimsouls' first EP arrived in the mail with an explanation of what plimsouls were -- a type of shoe, although if you Googled the word now, all you'd come up with are band references. LA was pumping out lots of bands with names beginning with the word "The," all crafting catchy three-minute rock songs that were the norm of the period. It got to the point where they were all a blur, record labels spitting them out, and truly there were some gems that would either rally the critics or die under the radar.

That EP, more soul-infused than later material, contained some wonderful songs, like "Zero Hour," "Now,"and "Lost Time," which actually feature R&B-inflected horn sections.

There was an original version of "A Million Miles Away" on Shaky City Records that I remember hearing on Long Island's WLIR-FM radio. Once the band performed the song in the early Nicolas Cage cult movie Valley Girl, they re-recorded it on a bigger budget, and it became part of the outstanding and much darker Everywhere At Once album on Geffen Records. By the time the song broke all over the more adventurous FM rock stations, the Plimsouls had broken up.

A roaring landslide of guitars and a much bleaker view than before made "A Million Miles Away" a perfect fit for Everywhere At Once. Case's songwriting had definitely taken a turn towards the skeptical and pessimistic:

Friday night I'd just got back
I had my eyes shut
Was dreaming about the past
I thought about you while the radio played
I should have got moving
For some reason I stayed.

I started drifting to a different place
I realized I was falling off the face of your world
And there was nothing left to bring me back.

I'm a million miles away
A million miles away
A million miles away
And there's nothing left to bring me back today.

I took a ride, I went downtown
Streets were empty
There was no one around
All the faces that we used to know
Gone from the places that we used to go.

I'm at the wrong end of the looking glass
Trying to hold on to the hands of the past and you
And there's nothing left to bring me back.

I'm a million miles away
A million miles away
A million miles away
And there's nothing left to bring me back today.

Primo garage rock with a spike of nasty -- "The Oldest Story In The World," "My Life Ain't Easy," "Play the Breaks," "Inch by Inch" and a cover of The Rare Breed's "Beg, Borrow and Steal." Timeless and real rock music -- and the album is still in print!

Here are the official video for "A Million Miles Away," a live concert video of the earlier "Zero Hour" and a homemade one of "Now" from the same original EP.

The Doobie Brothers -- "Neal's Fandango" (1975)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 05:56:00 +0000

Buying The Doobie Brothers' Stampede album in my final months of high school represented a sort of coming of age for me musically. It was the first time I had bought a full length 33 1/3 vinyl album without having heard one hit.

I already owned The Captain and Me, and God knows every kid who ever picked up a guitar in my neighborhood, including me, could play the riff to "China Grove." I felt like had to be ahead of the curve, before embarking into the unknown far away from home at college. This was going to be my my record collection that I was going to be packing up and taking with me, so it may as well contain the latest and greatest.

I guess I identified with this western-themed Stampede cover, heading to my own personal new frontiers. I had already heard the opening "Sweet Maxine" on FM radio, with its Billy Payne barrel house piano opening and roaring guitars. But it was the second cut, the fast-driving "Neal's Fandango" with its double drum propulsion, and steam engine chords that have stuck with me through the years.

Guitarist/singer Pat Simmons stuffed a ton of words into this three-minute song about being inspired by "beat" author Neal Cassady, and the thinly disguised druggie road trips that formed Jack Kerouc's On The Road novel. Rock stars like writing their road songs and this was Simmons' 100 mph wind-in-your-hair country-inflected literary take, complete with giddyap pedal steel and electric guitar solos.

I had to listen to the lyrics many, many times to get every word down, as Simmons really packed'em in in the second verse.

Well, a travelin' man's affliction makes it hard to settle down,
But I'm stuck here in the flatlands while my heart is homeward bound.

Goin' back, I'm too tired to roam, Loma Prieta my mountain home
On the hills above Santa Cruz, to the place where I spent my youth.

Well it was Neal Cassady that started me to travelin'
All the stories that were told, I believed them every one.
And it's a windin' road I'm on you understand,
And no time to worry 'bout tomorrow when you're followin' the sun.

Papa don't you worry now and mama don't you cry
Sweet woman don't forsake me, I'll be comin' by and by

Goin' back, I'm too tired to roam, Loma Prieta my mountain home
On the hills above Santa Cruz, to the place where I spent my youth.

Stampede has special meaning for me too, as this was the last album the Doobie Brothers would record in their original rocking incarnation before hiring Michael McDonald and adding lots of R&B & soul to their style, taking them to even greater commercial heights and a very different direction.

Below are two videos of the band performing the song live from different eras. The first is from February 1975, before the album was even released, when they were a full blown long-haired and mustachioed rhythm section attack with the unmistakable Jeff "Skunk" Baxter right there in the front with Simmons and fellow lead singer/songwriter Tom Johnston (they also play "Road Angel," from the earlier What Were Once Vices Are Now Habits album). Then there's the very gray and longer-haired Patrick Simmons with the 2004 incarnation of the band at Wolf Trap, now all polished, still cooking, but the audience is all polo-shirted baby boomers!

Dire Straits -- "Tunnel of Love" (1980)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 01:34:00 +0000

Many people forget that Mark Knopfler used to really rock and roll. Nearly all his solo albums have been so low key, that they can often blend right into each other. But when he led Dire Straits in the late 70's though the mid-80's, he knew how to turn on the jets. I miss that Mark Knopfler.

After two successful albums that sounded pretty much the same, rhythm guitarist David Knopfler left the band. Dire Straits decided to employ a New York City-based production and engineering staff who worked behind hit albums behind Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and Patti Smith.

First there was co-producer Jimmy Iovine, who produced some of the best rock albums of that era before tossing it away to form Interscope Records and rap success. Engineer Shelly Yakus had worked on everybody from Van Marrison and Blue Oyster Cult to Alice Cooper and Lo Reed. And if there wasn't enough of a Springsteen connection, all the keyboards were played by Roy Bittan.

They wanted something that was going to sound different and succeeded in every way. Poetic, big in your face drums, closely mic'd guitars -- this was the early 80's rock vibe being sent out by the studios of New York.

I was doing a publishing internship with the 13-30 Corporation in Knoxville, TN, the first and only time I lived in the south, when this album arrived in the mail. I had made friends with the guys in my building, all U of T students, who thought it was pretty cool that a New York City guy was getting freebie albums in the mail.

Making Movies arrived in a flat cardboard box. I took it to my friend's apartment, put it on the phonograph, and commenced our nightly foosball match. I'm not kidding when I tell you that we played it twice that night, it was that good. This was not the light and airy Dire Straits of "Sultans of Swing" or "Lady Writer," but one with overdrive muscle, huge sound, and cinematic scope (hence the album title).

If "Lady Writer" is my favorite Dire Straits song, the album opening 8-minute epic "Tunnel of Love" is millimeters away as a close second. When CD players first appeared in the US in 1983, I was a early adopter, even though the discs all had to be imported at that time (there were no US plants -- nobody was sure if the format would take off). One of my very first CD's was Dire Straits' Making Movies on Vertigo Records, and the accompanying booklet was"printed in West Germany." For several years after that, when I wanted to demonstrate how awesome a CD could sound on a decent set of speakers, that was the first disc I went to, cranking up "Tunnel of Love," letting the brief Rogers & Hammerstein "Carousel Waltz" blend into that first minor power chord with drums forming the wall with it.

I'll concede that composing songs as coherent stories is difficult. It is like writing at least several short stories, and somehow making the lyrics fit the music in telling those tales. To this day, Knopfler has that God-given skill (next to his absolutely certified Fender Strat style) of spinning musical yarns.

"Tunnel of Love" is a moving nostalgic trip about a wild night out at the carnival, one which Knopfler says in the video below was near Newcastle, the now gone amusement park called "The Spanish City." This rollicking speedboat of a song captures the frenzy, lights, games and chasing a mysterious girl with great emotion that goes up and down like that roller coaster. But in one part, he alludes that the character is reliving that colorful scene with that same girl. You're never sure. The song actually slows down considerably in the middle and Knopfler sings that verse twice, pausing for effect, sounding weary, perhaps nostalgic.

Getting crazy on the waltzers but its life that choose,
Sing about the sixblade sing about the switchback and a torture tattoo.
And I been riding on a ghost train where the cars they scream and slam,
And I don't know Ill be tonight but Id always tell you where I am.

In a screaming ring of faces I seen her standing in the light,
She had a ticket for the race just like me she was a victim of the night.
I put my hand upon the lever said let it rock and let it roll,
I had the one arm bandit fever there was an arrow through my heart and my soul.

And the big wheel keep on turning neon burning up above,
And I'm just high on the world
Come on and take a low ride with me girl.
On the tunnel of love.

It's just the danger when you're riding at your own risk,
She said you are the perfect stranger she said baby lets keep it like this.
Its just a cakewalk twisting baby step right up and say,
Hey mister give me two give me two cos two can play.

And the big wheel on turning neon burning up above
And I'm just high on the world
Come on and take the low ride with me girl.
On the tunnel or love.

Well it's been money for muscle another whirligig,
Money for muscle another girl I dig,
Another hustle just to make it big,
And Rockaway Rockaway.

And girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did,
Like the Spanish city to me when we where kids.
Oh girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did,
Like the Spanish city to me when we where kids.

She took off a silver locket she said remember me by this,
She put her hand in my pocket I got a keepsake and a kiss.
And in the roar of dust and diesel I stood and watched her walk away,
I could have caught up with her easy enough but something must have made me stay.

And the big wheel keep on turning neon up above
And I'm high on the world
Come on and take a low ride with me girl.
On the tunnel of love.

And now I'm searching through these carousels and the carnival arcades,
Searching everywhere from steeplechase to Palisades.
In any shooting gallery where promises are made,
To Rockaway Rockaway from Cullercoats and Whitley Bay out to Rockaway.

And girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did,
Like the Spanish city to me when we where kids.
Girl it looks so pretty to me just like it always did,
Like the Spanish city to me when we where kids.

Now that you've caught your breath with this first sweeping song, it's time to get to the rest of what is undoubtedly Dire Straits' best album. The absolutely haunting "Romeo and Juliet," more skirt chasing in "Espresso Love," and the mournful "Hand In Hand" all follow. On their double album of covers and b-sides from a couple of years ago, The Killers had their cover of "Romeo and Juliet" (which didn't even come remotely close to the original, but I'll give them points for excellent taste).

From the Brothers in Arms tour in 1985, here is Dire Straits performing "Tunnel of Love" at Wembley Arena in two parts. Knopfler in his usual bandanna, a complete master of the guitar, tossing off little bits of "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" and "Stop In The Name of Love" in the opening intro. That's longtime bassist John Ilsley in the blue shirt to Knopfler's right. Former Rockpile drummer Terry Williams was behind the kit. With the introduction of piano in Making Movies, Knopfler recruited Guy Williams to the band. Watching the video reminds me of a British Springsteen -- clearly Knopfler was influenced by the man.

Richard X. Heyman -- "Falling Away" (1991)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sat, 02 Jan 2010 14:41:00 +0000

Richard X. Heyman's Hey Man was one of those CD's that I hung on to through moves, marriage, and kids because years ago, Warner Brothers sent it to me and I loved the first song, "Falling Away." If you're a pack rat like me, you end up storing away discs because there was something about it you really liked, but then they ended up getting buried along with all the other stuff you were hoarding.

In my rediscovery of modern power pop in the late 90's, I found Richard X. Heyman's one major label album brought up as a constant favorite. Just in time too, as Heyman released his Cornerstone album in 1998, his first since 1991's Hey Man.

A multi-instrumentalist whose primary chops are on the drums, Heyman was the rare power popper to emerge from the East Village of Manhattan. While that downtown scene was far better known for punk and more artsier aspirations (although you could argue The Ramones had some definite power pop in them), Heyman was a sponge of Byrds, British Invasion, Beatles, and 60's chamber pop and garage rock.

A combination of being on Warner Brothers' alt rock/new wave Sire label and the impression of this tall, lanky long-haired dude on the cover led me to believe I was in for something crushing and punky, perhaps arty in the vein of Tom Verlaine or Richard Lloyd. Yet, as the single always leads off the album, I could not have been more wrong. "Falling Away" is a sparkling 3-minute power pop blueprint, with a little bit of 60's go-go thrown in (as the promo video obviously captured), all hooks and harmonies, a main lick that sounds like a tribute to the Byrds' "Eight Miles High" and the overdubbed harmonies of the man himself in all his nasal glory. It's a song that you can't help feeling great when you hear it because Heyman is a rock romanticist

Living that sort of rock and roll fairytale, Heyman married bassist Nancy Leigh, who toured and played on many notable band albums in punk and new wave's heyday (including my friend Binky Phillips' indie album in the early 80's).

Heyman audaciously self-published his memoirs, Boom Harangue, as a paperback in 2001, and on a whim I purchased it. Messy but evocative of the times, Heyman wrote about growing up a child of the 60's in a Plainfield, NJ Jewish family, taking up the drums at a young age, following local TV shows and bands, early teen band signings and various touring gigs and finally getting Hey Man out on a major label, only to see it wither from no support. Let's face it, not a great time to put out a power pop album when Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains were monopolizing all the radio play and album sales.

Since Hey Man, Heyman puts out more fine power pop albums on his own Turn-Up Records label, sometimes on CD and now download only. He used to play living room concerts for people who contacted him on his web site, but it seems like that's history. His wife Nancy manages all his business and performs with him. Heyman reunited with his early New Jersey band The Doughboys and just released their second album of rough and tumble sneering garage rock, cater made for Little Steven's Underground Garage channel on Sirius/XM satellite radio.

The official video for "Falling Away" is a Rickenbacker lover's wet dream, with Heyman changing gorgeous models between edits. And yes, that's wife Nancy on the bass.

Tower of Power -- "Only So Much Oil In The Ground" (1974)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 23:45:00 +0000

In the early 70's, Warner Brothers/Reprise Records had a counterculture-spiked advertising/promotional campaign that they ran in magazines like National Lampoon and Rolling Stone promoting their lively roster of artists including from Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Wildman Fisher (!!), Norman Greenbaum, The Grateful Dead, Bonnie Raitt and Tower of Power. Featuring Robert Crumb-inspired art, they offered a free promotional record to sample their artists. It's hard to forget that promotion, as it appeared regularly and was given out at record stores.

Then sometime in 1974, still in high school, I read a rave review of the new Tower of Power album, Urban Renewal, singling out "Only So Much Oil In The Ground" as perceptive, topical, and... uh, funky. Then everybody started talking about that song. Maybe I heard it once on the radio, I don't exactly remember -- Tower of Power was never embraced by radio, for some reason.

But this was the heyday of record album buying, where I absorbed rock critics in newspapers and magazines, and if they thought this was outstanding, I was going to spend my $5 or $6 a buy the record. And that album cover was not exactly a big fish hook to reel'em in, a demolished building is not a pretty sight.

The first thing that hit me when I put the album on was everything. That bulldozer horn section knocks you over from the very opening of "Only So Much Oil" and really doesn't stop. Horns, drums, bass, organ -- all cooking at the same time. Unlike, say, a typical pop record which actually builds, layering on more instruments and licks, these guys operated on full steam for nearly every song.

Why wasn't the band on the cover? You could see them on the back cover in a tightly cropped photo -- this ensemble was nearly all white boys playing in your face soul and funk. Only keyboardist Chester Thompson and singer Lenny Williams were black. This was the same year the Average White Band broke through with a similar concept on "Pick Up The Pieces" (and they were not on their album covers either), so you'd think TOP would get their radio play with less obstacles by this time. Nope, and this was two years before Wild Cherry would just make fun of the whole thing with the classic "Play That Funky Music (white boy)."

Ironically, with a topical leadoff single and a staggeringly timely cover, the rest of Urban Renewal was not going to be the next socially-conscious What's Going On. Heavily influenced by James Brown's horn jams (except with twice as many brass players!), TOP swooped and cut like daredevils through funky numbers, all musicians at the top of their game, much like Frank Zappa always had the cream of the crop. This was the Oakland, California sound, patented in their previous album, Back To Oakland.

Everything was complex... but it totally cooked. There were swooning ballads ("Willing To Learn," "It Can Never Be The Same," "I Won't Leave Unless You Want Me To") and always the dizzying 6-minute instrumental jam (in this case, "Walking Up Hip Street"). Taking from the Motown tradition, they wrote lyrics based on old sayings, slogans, warnings, double entendres and metaphors -- "It's not the crime/It's if you get caught!" "Maybe it'll rub off!" "(To Say The Least) You're The Most."

To record a large group like this requires quite an engineering job and even on vinyl during those days, you couldn't help but be impressed by how these records sounded. Full of life, everything clear and crackling, giving the speakers the full workout.

The members of Tower of Power were always worshiped like musical gods, now in their 40th year. Co-founders Emilio Castillo, bassist Rocco Prestia and the professorial looking Stephen "Doc" Kupka always get the familiar screams and yells. David Garibaldi is known as one of the best funk and soul drummers anywhere (and I own his drum sample/loop disc "Tower of Funk"). Former saxophonist Lenny Pickett would do the wildest things on record and stage with that instrument, stoking the crowds into loud screams, shouts and whistles, and he would eventually leave to be in Saturday Night Live's house band. Trumpeter Greg Adams spent 25 years arranging the magical material until he left to release solo albums (and I own his loop/samples DVD, "Greg Adams Big Band Brass" -- check out the cool music on his web site).

The band has been through more lead singers than Spinal Tap has with drummers. Old school TOP fans still think Lenny Williams was the best of the long line, some of whom sounded eerily like the man himself.

I've seen them live half a dozen times and if you think they're a party on record, then you haven't seen nothing yet. A TOP concert is a bring down the house experience, with more people playing "air horns" and "air drums" than any other act I can think of.

I do have to give a tip of the hat to my friend down the hall at SUNY at Buffalo during freshman year, Doug Alpern, for coming armed to school with more TOP albums and opening the whole scene to me.

So here they are, live from the Montreux Jazz Festival in 2006, is Tower of Power knocking everybody out with "Only So Much Oil In The Ground," which still seems to be a timely message today.

Josh Rouse -- "Winter in the Hamptons" (2005)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 02:44:00 +0000

Insightful singer/songwriters who play acoustic guitar don't get very far in the US, unfortunately. You'll get played on college stations, but since airplay is totally controlled by public corporations, that would be about it. However, go to Europe and the undiscovered gold from here gets dug up and treasured. It's no secret that the UK music magazine Uncut is passionate about their "Americana."

Maybe that's why when after a handful of albums and a marriage down the tubes, Josh Rouse gave up his adopted city of Nashville and moved to Spain. His Rykodisc album, 1972, was a paean to the golden era of soft rock, and the critics clamored over this breakthrough record to no avail. He decided to pack it up and head across the pond, but before he did, he recorded his farewell to the old life with producer Brad Jones and released Nashville.

You may think you're in for some heartland country music, but no. The name of the game is folk-rock with nods to 70's soul and pop and no sappy stuff either. The standout cut is "Winter In The Hamptons," which is one of those songs you wish would go on for longer than its 3:06, perhaps with another solo because the chord progression is so damned juicy.

Nicking a little from the Police's "Message in A Bottle" guitar pattern, this is a folk/rock pop gem that just glides fast and carefree, with the absolutely killer hooks and singalongs. From experience, I can tell you that winter in the Hamptons is quiet, beautiful and possibly truly dull. It's like the rich and famous are out of town, so it's a remote still life with limited things to do in the cold weather. Rouse uses that vibe as a metaphor for nothing left to lose but flying away to the new life in Spain.

Here we go
Singin' our songs with our soul
Winter has gone
Where do we belong
We have stayed too long.

Friday night
So uptight we get stoned
Sit in the Hamptons
It is too cold
We have stayed too long.

Spring is finally here
And we're so well dressed
It's a talent and it's our style
So put on your hat
Because the forecast is rain clouds.

Never know
American scene's such a bore
Embarassing
Still, we are hangin' on
We have stayed too long.

And we'll fly
Take a gypsy to Eurosize
Our money is gone
Where do we belong
We have stayed too long.

Sick of livin' here
It's such a mess
'Cause the government they're all liars
So put on your hat
Because the forecast is rain clouds.

As you'll see from the videos below, it's the opening a capella singalong "ba da da da dahhh" that sticks right in your head from the start and clearly gets live audiences singing along. Rouse has been in Spain a few years, so YouTube is full of Rouse concert videos from all over that country, and man, do they love that guy. There are a couple from two years ago with stops in LA and Brookyln that are just as enthusiastic, so it's heartening to see there is still strong support here too.

The first video is a very well-done purposefully grainy production for "Winter in the Hamptons" followed by Rouse and his crew singing the song in the middle of the daytime at the Plaza del Trigo in Arana de Duero in Spain from this past August! I hope you fall in love with this song as much as I have.

The Nice -- "Hang On To A Dream" (1969)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 14:57:00 +0000

Not all prog rock was synth noodling. Sure Keith Emerson brought monstrous analog synthesizers into the studio and on stage, moved around the cables, and made all kinds of weird and wonderful noises when Emerson, Lake & Palmer became musical sensations.

But before ELP, Emerson led the late 60's trio The Nice, where he mainly stuck to pianos and occasional Hammond organ. The Nice were definite precursors to ELP, mixing rock, free jazz and classical genres, sometimes to bombastic but not elaborate extremes. They took particular joy in morphing classical, jazz and folks songs into their own updated arrangements, adding a driving rock beat, jamming on a chord progression, and sometimes turning the original into something unrecognizable.

Like Yes, they turned Leonard Bernstein's "America" from West Side Story inside out. Dave Brubeck's "Blue Rondo A LA Turk" was sped up, changed to the rock standard 4/4 time, and distorted.

Somehow I fell into possession of The Nice's third album (I think one of my limousine driving neighbors gave it to me), simple called Nice, around the time it came out. I only listened to side one, three melancholy songs followed by the 8-minute musical rock/jazz sound collage "For Example" which I remember during the whirlwind climax featured horns playing the opening notes to "Norwegian Wood." The album's second side consisted of two live recordings, the aforementioned Brubeck cover (now simply called "Rondo '69") and a completely lunatic reworking of Bob Dylan's "She Belongs To Me."

The album's opening number, "Azrael Revisited," set off the mood with a sinister dissonant piano riff accompanied by a snapping drum beat and relentless cowbell, all the better for a song about the angel of death, right?

As if death wasn't grabbing enough for a curtain opener, then came the rather poetic two-faced cover version of American folk singer Tim Hardin's "Hang On To A Dream." Ostensibly a simple song about being left behind by your girlfriend and hoping for the best, leave it to Emerson and company to turn it into something far more complicated and unexpected.

Emerson was always about as subtle as a sledgehammer and seemed to delight in showing off not only how amazingly fast he played, but that he could do it in nearly every genre. And just in case you didn't get the point, he would simply mix in a few genres in the same song, whipping off everything with lightening speed.

Tim Hardin's "Hang On To A Dream" is a beautiful stark song, and The Nice's rearrangement manages to retain that beauty yet gassing it up into something you'd hear in a Balinese temple. Emerson is all piano flourishes and classical riffs. Vocalist Lee Jackson sounds mopey and crackling, especially when he stretches out "she says what she do-o-o-o-o-oes." A little triangle for the emotional touch, a holy choir for the choruses, and a cello for the chamber effect.

Really nice, really pretty and actually moving, and then suddenly Emerson breaks into a series of major jazz chords for no apparent reason and boom, the Nice has shifted into rocket bebop mode, Jackson's electric bass now pumping double time, Emerson racing up and down the piano, a tambourine hitting the quarter note beats, and the song is now off to the races. This break comes to a dramatic climax, and then Emerson gives one of his patented classical downward spirals, a very brief pause and a Chinese gong is smashed, cue choir.

Below is a very entertaining black and white video of The Nice performing "Hang On To A Dream" live on the Beat Club television show. No choir, but you can see Emerson was clearly in charge, nearly overpowering everybody else on stage, even plucking the piano strings at one point. You can barely hear Jackson's low-key singing. The jazz break in this show goes on far longer than the album version, but Emerson is pretty much unstoppable and a certified madman.

The Mop Tops -- "Plastic Moon Rain" (1995)

noreply@blogger.com (Drew Kerr) — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 16:56:00 +0000

This is the band that made me want to go out and buy Rickenbacker guitars (and I ended up with two).

In the aforementioned post from a couple of days ago, describing my discovery of modern day power pop and purchase of Not Lame's The World's Greatest Power Pop Compilation... Really, the very first cut on that album was this song, The Mop Top's "Plastic Moon Rain."

Folks, I was truly forever sold when the first several seconds played. Ringing, slightly overdriven Rickenbacker guitars playing full out D major and A7 chords playing by themselves, with the drums pumping into the beat. Do you remember hearing all those guitars on Byrds songs like "Feel A Whole Lot Better" and "Mr. Tambourine Man" and Tom Petty classics like "Here Comes My Girl" and "The Waiting?" That's how it hit me then and it still sounds great now. And to encapsulate the perfect single, they speed it up at the end and bring in the tambourines, a trick that Todd Rundgren memorialized in the liner notes to his Something/Anything album.

Yes, leave it to the Swedish once more to take a musical genre and perfect it. Those guys have always known their pop, whether it's the sweeping Euro style of ABBA or current production and songwriting behind Britney Spears and Ke$ha ("Tik Tok"), it seems catchy hooks are that country's major export.

What is "Plastic Moon Rain?" I swear I think it's about death in some Frank Zappa kind of way.

Magic world train, plastic moon rain.
I feel no pain, plastic moon rain.
You grow old, no hair to comb.
So alone, in your heart and soul.

Fall on me again, fall on me again
Plastic, moon rain
Let it fall, let it fall, Let it fall on me again
Plastic, moon rain , Don't deny it, here it comes.

Don't be afraid, you're not insane
If you see, the plastic moon rain
There's no escape, no hideaway
Come taste and feel, the plastic moon rain
Fall on me again, fall on me again.
Plastic, moon rain

And who are these Mop Tops, who came up with their corny Beatles tribute name? According to their web site, they've been around since 1985, and their audience liked their "ruffleshirts, Chealseaboots, Vox amplifiers and swaying popbeat (all spelling theirs)." With a back catalog of 200 songs, they signed a deal with Velodrome Records in Gothenburg, and their album Inside was released. Contributing singles on a handful of compilations, the band only produced their second full album in 2008, Ground Floor Man.

Inside is a Beatles-like Rickenbacker showcase, all deeply rooted in the Fab Four's early albums like Meet The Beatles, A Hard Day's Night, Help and Revolver. They don't mimic the Beatles, like the fictional Rutles, but employ the band's styles and instrumental simplicity, a real throwback when artists went for a jangly 60's sound with a quartet of instruments. Unfortunately, Inside is out of print.

But what we do have is this outstanding song. The video takes photos from The Mop Tops' web site, when they played small clubs in a couple of rare New York City visits, visited a well-stocked music store selling (what else) Rickenbackers, and performed at Liverpool's Cavern Club for a Beatles fest.