December 19, 2008 Earworm

Oh, good: I got you before you went out. As of this writing, I'm already home from the bar that I bellied up to at four so, I beat you.

Before the hi-jinks, shenanigans, and/or whatever it is that you do to get your weekend started, I'd like for you to remember "The Dominatrix Sleeps Tonight". Born from the strangely perfect collaboration of New York Funhouse DJ, Ivan Ivan, performance artist Stuart Ar(ga)bright, singer Claudia Summers and former PIL member (and sort of a Kirsty MacColl in his own right) Ken Lockie, Dominatrix had three minutes and thirty one second of brilliance and, through remixing and dub, they stretched it out to half an hour, and ended up in the record collection of every home we would visit back in 1983.

The video, featuring Dominique Davalos, daughter of "East of Eden" co-star Richard, was immediately banned by MTV, and put into heavy rotation at the more adventurous clubs. Watching the silliness now, it is hard to see what the fuss was about. It is quite tame and guilty of nothing more than inspiring the wave of video sluts that would fill the oeuvre of the hair metal bands to come.

The record itself is a different story. Listen closely and you can hear the sterile elements of Madonna's "Erotica" era - she once proclaimed it her favorite record - and a latin groove that would bring the Miami electro sound to domination of the pop charts in the latter part of the 80's. Listening closer, I can still hear the sound of Aqua Net and eyeliner and articles of clothing flying from one to another as a house full of youngsters dress to control the club and reign supreme.

December 18, 2008 Earworm

I am quite impressed with my puppies' decision to push down the door of their whelping pen in the middle of the night. I've long recognized the fact that a few balls and the same old toys can grow tiresome rather quickly, and that one can only practice chasing tails for so long. Having watched the slide bolt on the door of the box moving to and fro as all five eager faces press and pound against the door when I approach, I should have seen it coming. Unfortunately, I dismissed their actions and the results, and I foolishly underestimated team work. After learning a valuable lesson about teamwork myself just last night, I can only applaud the pups for banding together, jumping hurdles and, ultimately, restructuring their boundaries. Of course, this is easier said now that I have cleaned up the mess left from their movements.

In honor of the brave little ones' adventure, the earworm for today is "Moving" by Supergrass. It can also serve as a reminder...

December 17, 2008 Earworm

And now, after a surprisingly good sleep, a new vision is required. Wish me luck with that!

The earworm for today is "I'm Into Something Good" by Earl-Jean and, although she had her hit stolen out from under her, the resulting underdog status has provided more longevity and respect. This, of course, gives credence to the notion that the impact doesn't always have to be encircled in lights to last.

December 16, 2008 Earworm

What I thought was nothing more than the re-broadcasting of an old clip proved to be far more prophetic than I could have guessed when Meredith Viera yucking it up about Bette Midler's new show had me humming "Mr. Rockefeller" as I went about my morning routine. Recognizing the daily earworm at work but, unfortunately, unable to get to it due to my morning routine expanding to include five very demanding puppies who have no time for songs or my ramblings about them. Looking anxiously at the clock, I tucked it all away for the famous "later" that currently houses an awful lot things to which I've yet to get.

My mother often jokes that she erased any thoughts of me being gay because I never liked Judy Garland. She failed to note that Bette Midler's appearance on some award show or other around 1976, a giant turntable hat atop her shocking head, was just the sort of jolt a budding gay boy needs to get his head around a few facts. The next day, I ran to the store to find anything by this bizarre apparition and snagged a copy of "Songs For The New Depression", and ran home to fall in love with side one, track three; "Mr. Rockefeller".

To me, no amount of tongue in cheek can erase the beautiful sadness of this song, with its dashed dreams so beautifully played out via a one-sided telephone conversation. There's plenty of self-pity, self-entitlement, and plain old selfishness but as the anxiety in Bette's voice frantically fans the dying fire in her belly, I can't help but feel all of it right along with her.

It's to "Mr. Rockefeller" I turn when I am faced with airing number
eleventy hundred of ghastliness like "From A Distance" and "Wind Beneath My Wings", or worse, another broadcast of "Beaches"; to the bawdy broad fighting so hard for attention that she wore a turntable as a hat and somehow changed a kid's whole world.
And now that I know that, come January 9th, I will have a lot more time to get to all that later I've been storing, I hope to find a way to fan my own fires. Fortunately, I am a man of many hats, and I'm not afraid to call collect.

December 15, 2008 Earworm

The earworm for today is "(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear" by Elvis Presley - and some of you know why.

Released in 1957, it was the second snip in the neutering of the sex bomb - the first being Steve Allen's cruel "Hound Dog" performance - this time, at the hands of Col. Tom Parker. As an inside job, it shows that that the first cut may be the deepest but it still may not be the one that hurts the most.
Written by Kal Mann and Bernie Lowe, the royalty windfall helped propel their Cameo Records into Philly's own hit factory, as well as to create a few of the Bobbys that would fill the charts while Elvis was away.

December 11, 2008 Earworm

There's something about a song that keeps on trying even though there's little hope of recognition. Chip Taylor's "Anyway That You Want Me" first got a run in '66 with The Troggs but was DOA and later that year, The Liverpool 5 (an LA session band, of course)got to #98 with it before disappearing. The American Breed closed out their chart run with it in '68, peaking at #88, and then Evie Sands decided that she'd give it a go since everyone else had been stealing her hits and finally got herself on the charts, but only to #53. I'm sure there's more but...

When Spiritualized chose to cover it as their debut single in 1990, it was clear that they were no longer going to be Spacemen 3 no matter what logo was on the sleeve. Stretched out to nearly seven minutes, they made themselves at home but, again, the song failed to have any major chart impact, ignored in the US and peaking at #75.

Life is unkind.

December 10, 2008 Earworm

Sure, "Bittersweet" will always be my most Hoodoo Gurus-ious moment but "Death Defying" can be a religious experience as well. Like scanning the road ahead while eyeing the rapidly descending gas gauge, Dave Faulkner decides that reaching the destination trumps potential hazards, and then places a resignation heavy foot on the accelerator.

Next?

December 05, 2008 Earworm

It looks as though Boy George is going to have to serve some jail time thanks to his alleged imprisonment of a male escort and I can't imagine how he can survive that sort of scenario. If he does, let's hope that he has learned that inviting hustler's up to view his "art photos" is as dangerous as it is cliched.

The delirious disco flash of "Mystery Boy", a b-side much played on jukeboxes all over Baltimore back in the Club's banner year of '83, seems almost too perfect. But, it is was it is and it is the weekend so we might as well start lacing up our dancing shoes.

December 04, 2008 Earworm

An old friend woke me from a sound sleep at 5:15 this morning, the commanding end to The Shirelles' "Soldier Boy" blasting my body into a sitting position. So vivid that I reached to shut off the clock radio before the whole could be disturbed. Having been set aside due to over familiarity, "Soldier Boy" must have felt it was time for an airing so, here we are.

A little googling about in search of a cosmic explanation as to why this record would so rudely remind me of its presence at such an ungodly hour provide no clues but I did learn that "Soldier Boy" has gained or maintained a major presence in the Chicano communities since its 1962 heyday. That is almost as mysterious to me as why it woke me up.

December 03, 2008 Earworm

Again, that addictive Facebook application has spun the circle back, bringing long ago faces, blurred by time, back into sharp focus.. It's been a chance to pull up a chair and watch the shenanigans unfold, this time without the roar of the music washing away the subtleties, and I am surprisingly pleased to realize that although we've all grown, we really haven't changed that much. The politics of pretty still remain but, without the arrogance of youth, the edges are somewhat dulled. The question of whether folks are simply sliding back into their old roles or if they just never bothered to give them up remains unanswered; the buffer the music once provided now replaced by a distance that provides a safety zone where everyone is able to apply whatever face they feel best fits the moment. Still, if you care for nuance, there are plenty of hints at what has become of those who, for what now feels like a only a moment, ruled our small little world. And it is on that nuance, that I set my drink, as I mentally stroll to the jukebox to once again play Big Country's "In A Big Country", and chuckle over a wonderful summation of everyone's behavior both now and then that was shared with me last night: "tossing the hair, rolling the eyes, denying everything".

December 01, 2008 Earworm

So, AlliB sent a clip from Rick Springfield's 1973 Saturday morning cartoon show, "Mission: Magic" to me this morning. Now I have Rick's "Speak To The Sky" stuck in my head.

Not a bad thing for a Monday morning following a long weekend, I guess...

November 26, 2008 Earworm

We approach the designated day of thanks and, unless you are a turkey or a totally self-absorbed meanie-head, surely you can find something for which to be grateful. If not, they may want to consider the idea that they're doing something wrong. Right?

The last Stax hit by Sam & Dave is an obvious choice for today so 1968's "I Thank You" it is. Now I want everybody to get off of your seat and get your arms together and your hands together...

If that doesn't work, flip the 45 and "Wrap It Up".

November 25, 2008 Earworm

Lacking liner notes that provide lyrics, I have tried to figure out all of the lyrics to Bernard Butler's "Not Alone" for about ten years. I'm still unclear of them all and today I realized why: I can't listen to it without getting lost in the beautiful noise.

It's a kiss-off to someone, and probably the boys of Suede, but it's really about the joy to be found in the noise, and thrill of realizing that the noise is coming from you. Joy and talent, not alone. Ever.

And speaking of not alone, I became a little less alone tonight when I picked up two puppies and my gaze was returned. My expression of joy was met with expressions that could only mean one thing: "What the fuck are you?!"

Priceless.

November 24, 2008 Earworm: we've some catching up to do

Wow. It's been a busy few days and every time I started to post, something came up to distract me. Still, the music went on and on in my head so here are a few of the standouts...

With the arrival of a posse of puppies, I found the strains of Paul Anka's "Puppy Love" in and out of my mind and was thankful that it was not Donny Osmond's version. Still, I like everyone too much to go with that and besides, the higher powers sent in The Jazz Butcher (and his Conspiracy) to set things right with "Domestic Animal". "Just a vague feeling that he could have been important once" is one of my favorite lyrics of all time and I can't imagine a better explanation of the instinctual thoughts running through the minds of the creatures with whom we share our lives.

"The Crash of Angel Wings" is from The Waterboys' 2006 album, "Book of Lightning", and answers the question of what they would sound like in a sing-a-long with the Jesus and Mary Chain. Delving deeper into the album would offer hints to what that collaboration would be like with Tommy Keene fronting the whole mess but that's another story. Kmatt was always a Waterboys fan and it is through her that I came to appreciate them. I'm glad that I was able to turn her on to this album and to return the favor. Yet another tune that will forever tangle us together.

"I'll Be Your Mirror" is, of course, best known by The Velvet Underground but there is a lovely version of it from '89 by The Primitives. If memory serves me, it started out as a b-side to a UK single but was so well received that it was tacked on to the US release of their second album, "Pure". Having had the pleasure of being a part of the dramas that always lead up to any artistic endeavor like Thomas' Dozol's photography exhibit that borrows the song's title, it felt good to have an opportunity to expose everyone to The Primitives' version. And a big thanks to Kmatt for jumping into the fray and weaving edges back together.

Dannyboy got "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" by Elton John in his head and tried valiantly to remember the title, the words, and to communicate the melody to me but, sadly, I drew a blank. Google helped solve the mystery but the song is from "Honky Chateau" which is not one of my favorite Elton albums, therefore it was stored away in the deeper recesses of my mind. We did end up spending the day with the Rocket Man's catalog and I fell in love again with "Song For Guy" from 1979's "A Single Man". As a tune for a fallen friend - the bike messenger employed by Elton's Rocket Record label who was killed while on the road - it can't be bettered as it always reminded me of passing city streets and country side, even before I learned of its inspiration. I also reunited with a song I'd once adored but let fall by the wayside due to over familiarity: "Philadelphia Freedom" may have been written for Billie Jean King's tennis team but it is a love letter to Philly soul as well and is a perfect example of why Elton's "Thom Bell Sessions" E.P. had to happen and worked so well.

Elton's duet album - an uneven project at best - reminded me that "Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing" is best left to Tammi and Marvin and that not even the voice of Marcella Detroit could save the arrangement she was forced to share with Elton. But, her voice did send me back to my first few weeks in Atlanta, when Shakespear's Sister was just getting started. "Dirty Mind" will always be remembered as one of the first records I bought in my new hometown but three years later, Shakespear's Sister would become forever the soundtrack to the summer of '92 when Viv and I were inseparable, each testing our own new boundaries, or lack there of, as well as new names. Without Viv, there would not have been a Pres in pres2go and, although he didn't actually stay, he would eventually, in a different way.

A random Facebook comment led me back to a 45 from my adolescent years, when my ears were still glued to a.m. radio. Although it always brings back memories of the time when Mommy was becoming Mom, it also has Ali B written all over it now thanks to a very nice rendition given during a wonderful weekend when much was consumed as well as exposed. And it wasn't tone deaf at all.

And now it's Monday and it's Rainy and I selfishly find the warmth in Karen Carpenter's voice as she shares my melancholy and I pass it on to a dear friend as another reminder that we have to find the best and the beautiful in the memories, no matter how much sadness surrounds them or us. "Rainy Days and Mondays" is still beauty and sadness after all these years, a jewel in the crown that is their self-titled album from 1971. It always makes me feel as if I'd just woken up from a nap in my mother's lap: safe, warm, and home. Like I imagine a newborn puppy feels as it dozes off with a full belly.

As we head into the holiday, I give thanks to, and for, all of you with whom I've had the pleasure of sharing a soundtrack and for letting me know that the earworm was missed during the brief hiatus. Thank you. Thank you very much.

November 18, 2008 Earworm

Our dog to human ratio skewed on Friday and even with Kmatt here for a visit, we're outnumbered. Granted, the five squeaking pups have enough to worry about just lifting their heads to eat, but their presence has dramatically altered the household, and they are in control. While we bi-peds still have the thumbs and the car keys, departures from the mothership are now carefully considered and even more carefully orchestrated, to the point that the thought of walking out the door is nerve racking.

On the other end of the spectrum, mother is holed up in a makeshift den, heat lamp and whelping box her primary surroundings, removed from any interaction with her own mother, Laney, and from her partner in crime, Mac: it's no longer the dog's life to which she's become accustomed but instinct and duty now rule her roost and she's admirable in commitment to the cause. Her brief breaks from her duties are only for necessities, augmented with a brief run through the house which appears to be an effort to confirm that the world in which she once lived still exists.

But the ones who have it the worst are Laney and Mac. Faced with a rare restriction, they stand outside the gate that guards the helpless and protector, they can only smell the air and strain to hear the cries of the strangers who have invaded their world. Realizing that they the focus has shifted to area which currently has no place for them, they act out in rude ways, demanding the attention that is normally only a palm away.

While preparing for a shower, I encountered Mac, rolling around on the spot I fill in the bed that is normally shared by all, co-mingling our scents, and alternately sighing and crying. Scooping up this 40 pound mound that usually consists of 90% canine bravado, 5% helpless puppy, and 5% indifference, I was rewarded with a rare kiss before he collapsed into fetal position, released a contented sigh, and drifted off to where ever he goes when receiving a heartfelt belly rub.

And that's why I've been singing Sinead O'Connor's "I Want Your (Hands On Me)" all morning.

November 12, 2008 Earworm

With all this Angels stuff going around my head, it was only a matter of time that Bobby Vee would rear his well-coiffed head via "Walkin' With My Angel". Bless his heart, he starts off trying to sound his butch best, even working up a nice little growl. But Bobby never was one for swinging pipe and within seconds he's strolling onto the set of some b-movie musical, waiting for an off-screen toss of a top hat and cane. As usual, the strings don't help his effort to walk like a big dog. But "Walkin' With My Angel" is an ace Goffin-King song and even it's being relegated to b-side of "Run To Him" couldn't keep it from charting at a respectable #53 in '61.

Four years later, Herman's Hermits would record "Walkin' With My Angel" for the b-side of their cover of "Silhouettes". It didn't chart but the boys managed to sound tougher than Bobby.

You know you got trouble when you've been out-butched by Peter Noone...

November 11, 2008 Earworm

Due to my recent relapse with Facebook, I find myself communicating with people I've not spoken with since the last dance at the Senior Prom. It's been fun to discover who I have absolutely nothing in common with now that the books are closed and surprising to find those with whom I had nothing in common aside from mutual friends who shared actually shared the same passions that we never got around to discussing.

The status of a friend of friend recently read that she was attending the Vocal Group Hall of Fame event. Surprised to find a potential kindred spirit and green with envy, I commented on her status, she commented back, and an instant message dialogue proved necessary. She was as surprised by my interest in the event as I had been with hers and a casual remark about being the step-daughter of one of The Angels briefly stopped my heart. I asked, "Is your step-mother Peggy?", and, after a brief moment, she replied, "Yup!".

I promptly became a slobbering fan, blabbering on about how much I love "Give Her Up (Baby)" and "Beggin'" and, when she had the chance, she replied, "Wow, you really know your stuff. Do you want some autographs from the event?" Needless to say, my answer was yes.

Since then, I've been constantly playing The Angels' follow up to "My Boyfriend's Back", the criminally overlooked "I Adore Him". How the country could resist this cheer leading for the dysfunctional relationship is beyond me, I can barely get through the thing with searching for a set of pom-poms. Peggy sounds as young as spring and maybe as horny. As always, there's something in that girl's delivery that suggests more than she says, that the love she gets when she's alone with him may be more than the hand holding variety that parents hoped for their daughters, and that it is flat out awesome.

Why else would she put up with this jerk?

November 07, 2008 Earworm

I don't know about the rest of you but I'm exhausted. Hours of rigidly hanging off the edge of my ashtray with one hand clinging to my facebook, and preparing to be the angriest voter in the world while hoping for the best takes a lot of a guy. Then, the celebration, followed by attempts at discretion - no need to be obnoxious about it, right - leading to clandestine hugs and jumping up and down... Oh, and then there's the day job.

What a week.

And now the weekend. The usual chores, friends' house for dinner, a possible reunion, and preparations for the arrival of Kmatt should keep me busy enough to lead me right back to exhausted. Life goes on during the holding pattern, so go we must.

To cap the weekend, I'm going with Tommy James & The Shondells' follow up to "Crimson And Clover", "Sweet Cherry Wine". One, because it's just groovy enough to match how I feel, yet not too pushy. Two, because Callie said, "When was the last time you heard "Sweet Cherry Wine", the other day and then seemed surprised when I replied, "Last weekend". This, in turn, surprised me because I thought every home had a copy of "The Best of"... even if it's on vinyl.

Anyway, have a great weekend.

November 06, 2008 Earworm

The Fonz was nowhere in sight when I woke up with my internal jukebox on the fritz. No song in the head. Nothing. Nada. I began to wonder if Dan had been slipping Prozac in my Pepsi. The morning news failed to turn it on and even some catty swipes at Beyonce's magic wig cabinet didn't do the trick. Fortunately, Jimmy LouWho mentioned that he'd been listening to Charley Pride at the same moment that another image of Barack Obama hit the tv screen.

"Didn't he do "Kiss An Angel Good Morning"?
"Yep"

Perfect. Charley was a first, too.

After a good start as a pitcher for the American Negro League's Memphis Red Sox, he signed with the C farm team of the New York Yankees where an arm injury lessened his chance for the big league. In 1958 he paid a visit to Sun Records and recorded a few tracks, none of which were released at the time, with only one surviving for posterity. After two years in the army, he tried to return to baseball but, with diminishing returns in that field, he began to focus on a career in music.

By the time he caught the ear of Chet Atkins it was 1966, a time when no African-Americans could get traction in that market. His first few singles were credited to "Country Charley Pride", perhaps to convince disc jockeys that the only thing black about his records was the RCA label. It took three singles to get Charley a major hit and "Just Between You And Me" made him a Grammy winner and the first non-white face to appear at The Grand Ole Opry.

Four years and thirteen top ten country hits later, seven of them number ones, "Kiss An Angel Good Morning" became his eighth country chart topper and the long awaited big cross over to the pop charts, where the single peaked at #21. To be honest, I hated it at the time which is probably why I am surprised to learn that it wasn't a number one. I remember it as being inescapable for years. Listening to it now, it's obvious that producer Jack Clement - who probably had met Charley at those earlier Sun sessions - managed to capture a large helping of happy thoughts on the tapes, creating what has to be the country equivalent of bubble gum music.

Charley never hit the upper reaches of the pop chart again but his trail of country top tens would continue for another twelve years, proving the strength of his fan base. I, however, don't recognize any of them.

Thanks for the kick, Jim.

November 05, 2008 Earworm

Forty-four years after it inadvertently became a call to action, the dream has become a reality, and that alone is reason for "Dancing In The Streets". But let's not get carried away, fixating on the accomplishment of one goal while forgetting all that needs to be done. The truth is, it's not that we needed a change, it's that change has to happen. Now, change must be clearly defined and that, my swinging friends, is the challenge before us.

Now, back to dancing... even you, Arkansas and Florida. Maybe you'll find the beat, heed the call, and drag yourselves into this century.

November 04, 2008 Earworm

The Beastie Boys' "Fight For Your Right" is the earworm for today. Now get 'em up! It's your party, help plan it.

November 03, 2008 Earworm

Having been reprimanded for being a bit "over" the endless dissection of what the polls mean, what the candidate meant, and what they are or are not, I concede to the fact that it is quite amazing to see so many talking about so much. Still, with so many people talking, there's a lot who have obviously done no more than listen to what so and so said about this and that or worse, forwarding emails full of details that are obviously false without bothering to see if any of it is true. Is it really that difficult to download the Google tool bar? I mean, if you are that impressed with your candidate, wouldn't you know that he didn't spend twenty-two years in the military? Everyone is so busy "getting the word out" that they don't even bother to read.

I try to keep the idea that everyone wants what they think is best for their country, but it's become more and more apparent that it's not just children that should be seen and not heard. I'm referring to both sides of the aisle now because even I'm a little tired of Obama as the second coming.

The truth is, no matter who gets this E-ticket, it's going to be one crazy ride and it's not going to be easy to fix things while their hands are up in the air, trying not to scream. So strap yourself in and get over yourself, we're all in it together and I'm pretty sure that we're going to need everyone's help in fixing this rode hard and put up wet clusterfuck that is the United States of America.

Oh... the song of the day is "I'll Hold Out My Hand" by The Clique and even if you hate the idea of a clique, when one holds out it's hand to you, the least you can do is shake it. It's just common decency. And doesn't everyone think that they are a decent person?

So Help Me at The Opal Gallery

October 31, 2008 Earworm

There are pages and pages of returns when you google Jack Kittel but very little information about the loose screw who recorded "Psycho" in 1974. Liner notes from Ace's "Dead! The Grim Reaper's Greatest Hits" says that he is/was from Michigan and that's about all that I can find.

"Psycho" was written by Leon Payne and originally recorded by Eddie Noack in 1968. It received no airplay and immediately became one of those titles prefaced with "Hey, did you ever a hear a song called...". Jack Kittel released his version six years later on Atlanta's own GRC label, home to Sammy John's blandly licentious "Chevy Van". From what I've read, everyone seems to be in agreement that Jack's straight-faced delivery makes it the choice of choice, besting a cover by Elvis Costello during his almost blue period. It also makes a perfect antidote to the equally ghastly "The Christmas Shoes"

"Psycho" is disturbing enough but its full creep credentials are found outside of the grooves and in the story of GRC label owner, Michael Thevis, known as "The Scarface of Porn", who started the label in an attempt to hide his more illicit gains. Read more about Michael Thevis and you'll see what I mean.

Have a devilish weekend.

October 30, 2008 Earworm

Two years after I left, a few haphazardly thrown punches were strong enough to create a wave of repercussions that sent me and mine out into the increasingly chilly air of fall and back to Charles Village, this time to the north west corner, where a pair of girls gave us shelter while we figured out the next step. It would prove to be an insular time as it was too cold to walk to our usual nightlife in Mt. Vernon and everything we needed could be found within walking distance of our block of Charles and 33rd. The corner WaWa provided soda and cigarettes, an independent grocery across the street lost inventory to an increasingly brazen "help ourselves" attitude, and second hand bookstores catering to the Hopkins crowd fed our heads. I know, and well remember, many excursions outside of the neighborhood yet the most vivid memories of that time take place in the few blocks that surrounded a one bedroom apartment housing five not quite kids, working elaborate schemes to amuse ourselves, planning world domination, and playing "Spades" by Lulu Kiss Me Dead.

One was never there and when she was, had to have recognized that she would forever be a peripheral - a fact sadly proven when we realized that the handwriting on all the correspondence from her boyfriend was strikingly similar to her own; two was going to be a teacher, the sort that kids remember for the rest of their lives; three was going to design clothes that, at that time inspired by two, would save the figures not found in fashion magazines from the cut rate look found on most racks; four, also taking temporary shelter, wanted to be the figure found in fashion magazines but would never admit it, and me, who sat and watched and wondered where I would fit in, grasping at the idea of being a photo stylist in an attempt to be needed and to keep the gang together.

We didn't have money to eat but we always had cigarettes and the latest issue of Vogue - the US, British, and Italian editions, and thanks to two's stint on the college radio, the newest import records were taped from the radio, her playlist becoming our group letter to Santa Claus. Looking back, some of us think that this is how "Spades" came in to our lives but I'm still not sure; in my memory it was there from the beginning, a theme for three and me, the words "all I feel is all too much" always in my head as a declaration of my romantic nature while its negative implications were left unexamined, the irony of its constant query of "who are you" not yet realized.

Pushed by the point of Sartre's "No Exit" and fueled by the absurdity of Kopit and Albee, we plotted telethons for the sartorially challenged, with "Jewels For Jews" and "Fashions For Fags" being our favorites as they were created for our own benefit. The floor of the furniture-less living room was where everything was started and nothing but packs of cigarettes was finished, perpetually littered with records and books and scraps of paper full of ideas no longer as great as they had been before the pencil hit the paper. We were so busy plotting the first step up the ladder of success that we never managed to get off the ground. We were so enthralled by the idea of our renaissance that we ignored the basic science of survival and reality would pull the plug on our enclave. On New Year's Eve we closed the door for the last time, the living room floor that was once littered with our ambition, now gleaming like all of our ideas and as equally unfulfilled. The girls all went their separate ways, leaving me and mine walking down Charles Street in the snow, assuring each other that the new year would be better, clueless as to how, not bothering to define the comparison.

October 29, 2008 Earworm

Delusions, myths, and flat out lies run rampant in Rilo Kiley's "Dreamworld" so it's no surprise to find it stuck in my head as the hyperbole grows louder, the frenzy intensifies, and the lines linger longer. Fortunately, there is a glimmer of hope in the subtext and a shimmer of Lindsey Buckingham in the production: without it, a guy could grow cynical...

October 28, 2008 Earworm

After watching the faces of fellow listeners for more than two decades, it's become obvious that "If being strong is what you want, than I need help here with this feather" is the arrow to the heart lyric for a majority of the fans of The Replacements' "Swinging Party". It's simple, it's painfully honest, and it's delivered without an ounce of self-pity or opportunity for useless arguing. The image it conjures is perfect in capturing the inertia felt by so many who came of age in the eighties.


However, it only describes the symptom and to find the cause, we move to the second verse: "Pound the prairie pavement, losin' proposition, quittin' school and goin' to work and never goin' fishin', water all around, never learnin' how to swim now." It's there that Paul Westerberg succinctly describes what was, what wasn't, and what seems unlikely to be: reminding everyone that even the simplest childhood dreams don't come true for everyone. Deftly using swimming as a childhood rite of passage, he reminds us that he is barely treading water in adolescence and that he will probably drown in the sea of expectations of adulthood. "Swinging Party", for better or for worse is the latch-key kids' anthem.

Early fans of The Replacements were quick to sell out when the band began to expand their sound but if "Swinging Party" is the product, the price was well worth it. I suspect that those same fans were the ones who drowned, who acknowledged only the symptom, who failed to explore the cause.

October 27, 2008 Earworm

The Satisfactions' ode to a biker boy, "Daddy You Just Gotta Let Him In", is revered by girl group fans around the world but for me, the flip-side, "Bring It All Down", is their shining moment. Written in 1966 by Bob "Elusive Butterfly" Lind for Cher - who turned it down - "Bring It All Down" is a wordy rebuke; a warning of the shelf-life of fame, and the danger in believing the words of one's sychophants. In the hands of Sonny Bono - and the mouth of Cher - it's highly doubtful that their version would have turned out as tender, thereby turning the words into a lecture that probably would have gone ignored. Jack gives his wife, Gracia, a comfortable cloud to sit upon as she addresses the head attached to the person bound to fall, an angelic choir to back up her words, a light string line waits to soften the landing, and a stunning yet simple ending that suggests that the mission was accomplished.

Listen up, Superman, and presidential candidates, too.

October 24, 2008 Earworm

The Clique came from Austin, Texas, and were brought to the attention of the White Whale Records owners via a lawyer who happened to have an office in the same building. Under the production wing of sunshine-Meister Gary Zekley, they released a cover of Tommy James and The Shondells' "Sugar On Sunday", neither improving upon nor detracting from an already perfect album track. It must have done well in the Baltimore area because it was a 45 that I would see in the collection of every friend's parents, and my own. Already familiar with The Shondells' version, I took more of a shine to the flipside as most little boys encountering a song called "Superman" will.

Why this adenoidal treasure was relegated to b-side status at the height of the nasal propelled yummyyummyyummychewychewy era is a mystery but the song, if not the band, would be given its chance to fly with a cover by REM that neither improved upon nor detracted from the original. That it did not inspire me to tie a towel around my neck should not be held against it as I'd simply found other means of elevation by that time.

Have a super weekend.

October 23, 2008 Earworm

The Beach Boys' "All I Wanna Do" sounds like it was recorded in a cavern slowly filling with rain. It also sounds like a tear in the time/space continuum where sixties sunshine pop shook hands with eighties revivalism and then graciously introduced nineties britpop: I can't imagine what Mercury Rev would sound like without this record.

The lyric to "All I Wanna Do" was written by Mike "That's 'MR. DOUCHEBAG' to you, fella" Love which proves that transcendental meditation could be inspirational, if not completely successful in cleansing a vinegar and water spirit. To be honest, I would have thought it was written by Dennis but that may have been just for fantasy fodder.

"All I Wanna Do" was on 1970's "Sunflower", an album that proved to be a low point in their commercial appeal and the critics weren't too kind, either. Fortunately, time has shown "Sunflower" respect for it's uncluttered, soulful sound and was recently ranked at #380 in Rolling Stone's list of the 500 greatest albums of all times. More important, for an all too brief time, "All I Wanna Do" allows me to believe that heaven and earth and peace and love are simultaneously within reach and that Mike Love is more than an asshole. And that, folks, is a miraculous achievement.

from the sofa: Joe The Plumber

Can we get over this guy already?

Joe The Plumber may have been "overwhelmed" by all the attention he is receiving thanks to a shout out by John McCain, but it certainly hasn't stopped him from milking the elite liberal biased media. Reports claim that when McCain's camp invited him to appear with the candidate at a rally, he had to decline because he would be in New York for television appearances.

He compares himself to Britney Spears in light of his sudden media spotlight. Not quite, Joe; Britney is occasionally interesting. But you, too, are quite the media whore and she, too, is not a licensed plumber.

Here's to the hope that you are in the last flush of your fame...

October 21, 2008 Earworm

Dee Dee Warwick, sister of Dionne, niece of Cissy Houston, cousin to Whitney, had five entries on the Hot 100 but never managed to reach the Top 40 or the conscious of the general public, despite two Grammy nominations and first dibs on two songs now considered to be standards.

As a member of the Drinkard Sisters, her voice backed some of the most enduring pop tracks of the early sixties and, following Dionne's entry into the soft focus spotlight of Burt Bacharach, Leiber and Stoller put her up front for the only version of Clint Ballard's "You're No Good" where the singer sounds as though she means what she is saying. There is nothing soft about Dee Dee's record, it's minimal arrangement is all jab and punch with a piss-off vocal that is double-tracked for maximum damage. It's the sound of a woman scorned and it is clear that it's best not to argue.

To my ear, Dee Dee was best served by Leiber and Stoller - the follow-up, "Standing By", is another scorcher - because they understood the power of that voice and were savvy in shoring it up. Too often, her later records - the Blue Rock/Mercury releases - tended to wobble under the weight of her ferocious delivery, unable to back up what she was laying down and when they did - "I Want To Be With You", her biggest R&B hit - the result sounded a few years beyond it's sell date. Still, I never doubt her sincerity and that's what keeps me listening.

October 21, 2008 Earworm

In perfect synchronicity, Kmatt wrote,

"...Levi Stubbs himself can, of course, tell us this story better than anyone, but Billy Bragg’s “Levi Stubbs’ Tears” adds the layer that comes darn close to telling my journey with this music. Short of the accident, running away, and returning ghosts—I’ve often added this to my other list of perfect pop songs...",

as I, a couple hundred miles away, was listening to Mr. Braggs' "best of","Must I Paint You A Picture", because one can only type "Levi Stubbs" so many times before that guitar work comes strutting up to the frontal lobe. The story told in "Levi Stubbs' Tears" is a perfect composite of all the paranoiac elements of the H-D-H produced Four Tops records such as "Ask The Lonely", "Bernadette", "Standing In The Shadows of Love", and "7 Rooms of Gloom", yet it's presented as a folk-pop record sans any H-D-H gimmicks. It's a testament of not only the strength of the song and the record, but to Mr. Stubbs that anyone who has heard it knows exactly what the title, and it's association with the world within the song, implies.

It's also a desert topping and a floor wax. It's talking paranoia with the Tops man

Nosferatu @ Opal Gallery feat. score by Hubcap City

OCTOBER 25, 2008:

SCREENING BEGINS AT SUNDOWN
Necking to follow

Opal Gallery presents another installment of Theater on the Asphalt with a screening of Murnau's 1922 silent classic, "Nosferatu", with a new score by Bill Taft and Hubcap City.

Bring your own chairs, blankets, and warm beverages to bite back the chill running up your tingling spine

Opal Gallery
484 Moreland Ave. B-2
Atlanta, GA 30316
678-717-8890
http://www.theopalgallery.com

October 20, 2008 Earworm

With the horrible news of the passing of Levi Stubbs on Friday, I was again in the position to pick one record to define a man whose voice was not easily categorized. Listening to Four Tops albums while slogging over a work project certainly makes the work go faster but did little to help find "the" song.

Giving in to temptation, I threw the laptop aside to run down to the Little Five Points Halloween Parade to catch a glimpse of the festivities. There, I found my answer as a marching band from a local high school came storming down the street with a brassy rendition of "Reach Out I'll Be There". Of course.

Even a brass section can not equal the ferocity of Levi Stubbs' voice, yet the message was loud and clear: as long as there is something to play back music, that voice remains available to see you through. No need to look over your shoulder; just reach out and press play.

L5P: Halloween Parade draws a big crowd

Walk Tall

L5P: Voting Ideas for Atlanta

DISASTROUS TIMES CALL FOR RADICAL CHANGES!

October 17, 2008 Earworm

Riding into the weekend that, here in Atlanta, kicks off the Halloween festivities with the Little Five Points Parade, I present the galloping "Johnny Remember Me", best remembered in the States - if at all - as the partial source for a Bronski Beat/Marc Almond collaboration. Produced by Joe Meek for maximum creepiness with minimal instrumentation arranged by Charles Blackwell, even singer John Leyton's flat vocal can dampen the fun of the story.

What the story is is open to interpretation but there's no doubt that Johnny is unhinged by the loss of his true love. For what's it worth, I'm inclined to believe that his loss was by his own hand and that his hope to find a replacement suggests a psychopath on the loose.

So, uh... have a great weekend and it's probably wise to avoid tricks.

P.S. John's delivery of "Johnny" at 2:20 always reminds me of Julie Brown's "The Homecoming Queen's Got A Gun": maybe we now all know, like, who Johnny was...

October 16, 2008 Earworm

Growing weary of the slice and dice of post-debate polls, I re-adjusted the positions of three dogs and rolled over onto my side while wrestling up enough covers to cover my bottom. Encountering a face that I've watched change for sixteen years, I had the good fortunate to experience the sort of heart swelling feeling of appreciation that explains big sweeping ballads like Jackie DeShannon's version of "I Can Make It With You" and Claude Rains in "Mr. Skeffington".

And then a terrier twitched her tail and soiled the air.

But I still have Jackie, perhaps paying homage to her friend P.J. Proby, and what I consider the best version of "I Can Make It With You". Oh, and "Mr. Skeffington", too.

October 15, 2008 Earworm

The Kooks' second album, "Konk", might be noted as having a bit more of blues inflection - no doubt garnered by their opening slot on The Rolling Stones' 2006 tour, but it's done nothing to diminish their ability to capture the sound of the sun as it blasts from a transistor radio. The opening track, "See The Sun", radiates like a day at the beach with a hand full of cheap speed. For me, that's two great tastes that taste great together and I'm officially in love with this song.