Of course it's sad to hear of the passing of Oliver Postgate, the creative force behind English children's show Clangers. The unbearably adorable program from the late 60's followed the adventures of tiny sewn mice sort of fellows who live on a faraway planet and whose voices are played by a slide-whistle. Ah, my kingdom for a kinder gentler time in children's television programming.
This is just an oddity I found on You Tube. John Lydon being sued by tour drummer Robert Williams over a broken tour agreement on Judge Judy. Williams is best known as the drummer for Captain Beefheart, but possibly not known for his sad bowl-cut in this video clip. More details on the decade old suit are here. As to the question of who sues over being fired off a tour when you don't get on with anybody else on the tour, and who would do this on Judge Judy is yet another matter entirely.
One of my favorite references to Odetta is, from the film Hairspray by John Waters.
Hair hopper Ricki Lake and her beau seek refuge in the house of two beatniks played by Pia Zadora and The Cars' Ric Ocasek. Being the first beatniks they've ever met, the conversation goes like this...
Ricki: How do you get your hair so straight and so flat? Pia: With an iron, man!l play my bongos, listen to Odetta, and then l iron my hair, dig?...When l'm high, l am Odetta!
"I would like to live in Sweden When my work is done Where the snow lies crisp and even 'Neath the midnight sun Safe and clean and green and modern Bright and breezy—free and easy Sweden—Sweden—Sweden—In Sweden I am gonna live in Sweden Please don't ask me why For if I were to give a reason It would be a lie Tall and strong and blonde and blue-eyed Pure and healthy, very wealthy Sweden—Sweden—Sweden—In Sweden I'll grow wings and fly to Sweden When my time is come Then at last my eyes shall see them Heroes every one Ingmar Bergman Henrik Ibsen Karin Larrson Nina Persson Sweden—Sweden—Sweden!"
An atmospheric piece about Prince has hit the current New Yorker which is entirely worth reading if not just to read the description of him as "a small fifty-year-old man in yoga pants wearing platform flip-flops" and talking about how as a Jehovah's Witness he goes door to door spreading the good word. Years ago I remember seeing an MTV 'where are they now' special where Vanity of Vanity 6 talked about how she prayed for Prince's soul every day, well I guess that worked!
By the way, what with those religious stances, you can likely count Prince among the folks who voted against gay marriage in California. Way to kill a fanbase.
Oh Yma! How sad am I to know that after 86 years on this planet you decided to take off to the afterlife and I never got to see you live and in person even once! Boo hoo!
For those of you who have no idea who Yma Sumac is, I could probably not tell you in greater detail than our friends at the NY Times Obit department, so I'll leave it to them. What I will say is to hear the incredibly strange 4-octave voice of this avant-garde Peruvian chanteuse is to believe it. With a sound like Ricky Ricardo's freaky sister, her albums of mambos and cha chas were the perfect soundtrack to throwing a dozen mai tais with friends, you know, just before going on a date with a witch doctor or throwing yourself into an erupting volcano.
Still interested? Well why not download her songs yourself for free from this incredibly obscure Russian website? Ah yes, I knew you'd like that. While you're there be sure to check out the extensive selection of songs by A-ha (how many singles did they have?) and "AC and DC". Hurrah for lack of copywright.
I awoke this morning to a new kind of America, onewhere there is new hope at last for all of our collective futures.
I awoke this morning to a new kind of President. One whose marketing has been so slick, he's the only presidential candidate I can ever recall not only having a logo for his name (what is he, Prince?), but also who has released a celebratory compilation album upon election. "Yes We Can: Voices of a Grassroots Movement" features songs like "Signed Sealed Delivered" by Stevie Wonder, "American Prayer" by Dave Stewart and Keb' Mo' taking a stab at "America the Beautiful". This Triple A-fest of soft rocking songs designed to inspire venti latte drinkers at your local Starbucks certainly not the kind of thing I would ever want to buy, but how can one not be intrigued by the sheer marketing genius of it all? I mean, when was the last time you recall a presidential election ending in a compliation album?
So even though "Yes We Can" is full of the kind of hokey, goody-two shoes 'inspiring' music that makes me throw up just enough that it gets stuck at the top of your throat and then goes back down and you have heartburn for an hour afterwards, on the upside, this is still way better than whatever the album would have been if John McCain had won.
Often past their prime rockers release 'comeback' records, and we think "So what? What's in it for me?"
Usually, there is no answer except either a moment of nostalgia for days gone by or alternately a moment to make fun of the artists in question. But on November 23rd, when Guns n' Roses offer up their newest, there will be a big incentive in the form of FREE DR. PEPPER.
I was going to make a Dr. Feelgood joke here until I realized that was Motley Crue.
How nice to see this bit of trivia from the good people at the Smoking Gun.
When looking at the catering requirements of Metallica's tour rider it's hard to miss that the phrase "BACON VERY IMPORTANT THAT BACON BE AVAILABLE AT EVERY MEAL AND DURING THE DAY" is right at the top of the band's directives. Sure they may ask for lots of fresh fruit and premium teas (aw, boys after my own heart), but from here on in, I hope that when someone asks any of you "What can you tell me about Metallica?" that the first thing that comes to your mind is "Man, that band sure loves their bacon".
Thank you to JoEllen for heads up about this video, ladies and gentlemen, the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain playing Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit.
Bonus:
The Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra (featuring Bret from Flight of the Conchords) singing a credible "Hey Ya"
It's not often enough that I'm given an opportunity to spend a weeknight on the high seas with legendary garage rockers, but that's just how two Wednesdays ago ended up, as I found myself on a free harbor cruise sponsored by the good folks at Pabst Blue Ribbon. The beer was free, the bands were free, the three hour tour was free, what's not to like?
Arriving at the dock (?!) at around 7 to ensure our spot for the 7:30 departure, the slip (again - when do I ever use these words on this blog?) was filled with other aging rockers as well as some twentysomethings, signed up for the free event by Yelp.com. The aging ones (some of who had planned to spend this night with a re-formed Vanilla Fudge at the Kowloon, only to have the show canceled at the last minute) were having second thoughts about being stuck on a boat for 3 hours. And shortly after boarding, I found myself asking where certain people disappeared to. Apparently afraid of us encountering the same fate as the Gilligan's Island castaways, they decided at the last minute not to board. To be fair though, their concerns were only half-right because the boat itself was quite modern and pleasant. It had 3 decks, two enclosed and one open to the fall night. So you could either sit in the indoor bar (deck 1), the indoor venue (middle deck), or go out on the roof to have a smoke or chat by moonlight. This meant that you were not stuck in a loud venue if you didn't want to be, and if you are my beau Ethan, you can smoke all the cigars you want on the roofdeck.
Shortly after departing the landlubbing world, Muck and the Mires were slamming it out to sailing set, and even played my request (see video below) for my favorite song: "All I Really Wanna Do Is Cry". You'd think there would be a bunch of problems playing on a boat - seasickness, giant squid attacks, etc. - but the evening went off without much of a hitch, save the boat crew's idea to set up the bands behind the stairways from Deck 1, so it was hard to actually stand close to the bands without standing on their toes.
Also, this was the first time I got to see garage rock legends The Lyres. The set led with "How Do You Know" and continued on with a parade of songs I forgot I knew like "Help You Ann" (see video below) and "Don't Give It Up Now". Apparently 25 years of practice can make perfect - energy was high and nary a note was missed.
Oh wait, when I said "What's not to like?"... did I mention the part about it being 3 hours?
It's about 10:00 when I'm on Deck 1, chatting to Mr. Muck, and I point out the time. He releases a horrified gasp "Oh no, it can't be! It has to be later than that!" But sadly I was right, we all still had an hour left on the boat, an hour which had little music left to fill it, and a whole lotta of being ready to go home. I ascended the stairs to the roofdeck to find my beau pointing out the boat was coming into harbor now, only to have his comments thwarted as the boat turned to chug Northward to Charlestown "TURN AROUND! STOP!" many of my amis full of free PBR bellowed, but the boat crew were intent on giving us our money's worth and the tour continued right up till 11PM. Yawn.
I had a dream last night I was going to invite the Undertones to my birthday party. I knew them because they were neighbors of a friend of mine, but not having their email I was going to just print out a note and stuff it under their door. I'd also like to note in the dream The Undertones were all still about 19, and all lived in an apartment in Boston together. Yep.
In other dreamy yet real news, the other week I found myself in an elevator with Clint Conley from Mission of Burma. But, rather than just saying "Hey, aren't you Clint Conley?", I instead just made nervous jokes about the bookstore we were in. Just goes to show even silver foxes are still foxes.
Says Lydon of the ad, in an interview at The Guardian ""I've never done anything like this before and never thought I would, but this Country Life ad was made for me and I couldn't resist the opportunity." Is this the ultimate rock and roll swindle? All I know is I sure could go for a piece of toast about now...
I am waiting for Amy to meet me at the Paradise with my ticket to see Robert Pollard's new band Boston Spaceships play with Boston legends Big Dipper. I am late, and thus as I am listening to the chords of "She's Fetching" through the nightclub door, I'm assuming Amy and my ticket are both already inside. I plead with the limp 20 year old hipster girl at the door to let me in, but she shrugs in the most exhausted of ways as she expresses she can't let me past. I know I could knock her down - so deprived of red meat is she - and run right past, but think better of it. Luckily I am horribly wrong, and mid 3rd round of pleading I am confronted by Amy who is actually later than me, and thus has been standing outside the club with her friends oogling loitering Spaceship guitarist and postpunk hunk Tommy Keane. I join her group just as he's telling them he can't shake hands because he's really sick and that the band's set will go for over 2 hours. I am sure I will never see that.
I know I'm the only person left in the world who is not a giant Bob Pollard fan. I have come here tonight to see Big Dipper, whose song "Faith Healer" I believe to in possession of one of the greatest licks of all time. I saw them a few months ago on their first 'reunion tour' which featured all original members (tonight bassist Michener is replaced by a familiar looking Boston-fellow I can't place), an event which - like tonight - made me realize that even 20 years later the band sounds just as giant and fantastic as the constellation they're named after. Chiming their way through a set of an array of favorites culled from their latest anthology, Supercluster, the assembled throng of post-35's gasp with glee.
As for Pollard, I thought I'd stay for 4 songs or so and then hit the road to get home in time for The Daily Show, but instead ended up transfixed for a solid hour by the gyrations of the one time grammar school teacher. For a gray-haired old man, Pollard really and truly rocks, and I'm converted on the spot, especially when he tells the crowd "I always wanted to be in a Boston band, and now I am. But I must say I never wanted to be in a band *named* Boston".
Finally leaving the club I see I'm not the only aging hipster who has to go to bed on time, I'm followed out by David Minehan of the Neighborhoods. Hurrah!
Below - too loud and too dark video of Boston Spaceships playing Quick Fix
PS - Did I mention the Paradise smells like vomit now? And a friend told me that unpleasant odor has been going on for near 6 months. Swell.
Being an expansive and unpredictable kind of guy, I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that Motor City Madman/bowhunting enthusiast/NRA lover/conservative radio personality/beef jerky entrepreneur/oh yeah AND rock legend Ted Nugent has launched his own Google search engine. "Search with Ted Nugent" fortunately does not demand searchers Wango Tango with the Nuge to get results, but you do earn some kind of "points" as you search, which can later tally up to a nab you prizes including a hunting trip with Nugent himself (For those who find the idea of the Nuge and firearms being in close proximity unsettling, you may instead receive an autographed guitar).
I don't know if you remember DEVO back in the day. I certainly recall as a youth watching their film, I believe titled "We're all DEVO" on MTV and finding it unnerving. Was it the messages about de-evoloution that were a bit too on the money or was it just my aversion to men in a rubber masks? Regardless, tonight, surely 20+ years after my first exposure to DEVO, I find them older, creakier, but just as unsettling as ever.
First, it's fair to note that the crowd is just as scary as the band. Wearing vintage power dome hats and yellow plastic suits, a guy even passes by my seat sporting a "Peek-A-Boo" tattoo on his arm featuring the two toned devils from the band's early 80's video. Man, these people are fierce!
After an uncomfortably lame set by The Tom Tom Club (who have added a hunky African-American model guy in an attempt to make us ignore the fact the rest of the band is just old, limp, and terrible) a video comes on that must have been shown before DEVO's New Traditionalists tour (how cool is that?), with General Boy (Mothersbaugh's father) telling us all the truth about de-evolution. Shortly thereafter, DEVO themselves appear on stage in their trademark yellow suits, kicking off the night with "That's Good".
How do I sum up the rest of the show, save to give you a laundry list of what happened? The band allowed their set to rest pretty much on work before 1983 and eventually stripped down from yellow suits to the vintage black shorts and kneepads look (forgot about that one). Nary a single was left unplayed, making the man sitting behind me screaming "Girrrrrl Uuuuu Waaaaaant!" so very, very happy. Singer Mark Mothersbaugh now has a pot belly but technically has not become less attractive than he was as an unattractive 20 year old. Best of all however was the encore in which Mothersbaugh donned the Booji Boy outfit and sang "Beautiful World" in Booji voice. At the end of this song, he unzipped the front of a long smock he was wearing and from inside produced handfuls of hi-bounce balls which he threw at the stage to the beat of "For You!" which then bounced away into the audience. Then, in the most distressing moment of the night, reached into his smock again and produced a good dozen or so bananas, which he one by one threw at the audience. Then he left the stage.
That would make number of concerts I've been assaulted by bananas thrown by a man over 50 wearing a rubber mask: exactly one.
In 'How To Make Your Unique Style Pay Off 30 Years Later News', Devo is currently suing McDonalds over their latest happy meal toy. Founding member Gerald Casale states the obvious about the wee plastic man currently found nestled twixt the buns of hungry youngsters "This New Wave Nigel doll that they've created is just a complete Devo rip-off and the red hat is exactly the red hat that I designed, and it's copyrighted and trademarked."
I see many Chicken McNuggets in somebody's future.
In other selling out news the band has lent a modifiedversion of their hit "Whip It" to the good people at Tooth Tunes, so you now can sing along to "Brush It" while you practice good oral hygiene.
Remember, it's only bad if someone else sells you out without your permission! More news on Devo's merchandising blitz from the NME and SF Gate.
There are a bunch of reasons this is true. One is her music has a unique point of view, which in this 'modern music' world is (sadly) pretty uncommon.
Other reasons include her fabulous fashion sense, that crazy big bouffant, and a life that is full of back to back scandals.
This week it was revealed that while cooling his heels in Pentonville Prison her husband, Blake Fielder-Civil (a name which does not exist outside of the UK) disclosed he offered to pay £20,000 to a fellow inmate if he'd "smash" Babyshambles singer Pete Doherty "to pieces". The motive? he believed the internationally renowned drug addict Doherty was having an affair with Winehouse. And what with all their smootchy smootch smootch photos so often published in the media, where would he get that idea?
Drugs, tattoos, affairs, prison, contracts on other popstars. Amy and Blake, you're all I want out of popstars. Oh, and great shoes.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE JUNE 23, 2008 - JULIANA HATFIELD "GROWS UP" IN NEW BOOK;
ACCLAIMED SINGER/SONGWRITER'S PROVOCATIVE MEMOIR "WHEN I GROW UP" PUBLISHED ON SEPTEMBER 29TH Juliana Hatfield has unveiled details of her upcoming memoir, entitled "When I Grow Up", slated to be published by John Wiley & Sons on September 29th.
_______________
Does anyone else find it odd thatJohn Wiley and Sonsis not a literature publisher? It's the publishing house you can thank for popular titles like "... for Dummies", "Cliff Notes", and the Frommer's Travel Guide series. Might it be possible that Bill Hatfield, author of the well loved memoir by the same publisher "ASP.NET for Dummies" could have had a hand in her book deal?
Of course I have no proof and that's the best thing about the web, wild unfounded speculation!
I know that I am supposed to want to rock out all the time, but you know, sometimes I'm OLD and TIRED, so these shows on weeknights get to me. Still, I HAD to go see Sloan. I missed them once and that just didn't seem right.The band tonight are OBSCENELY LOUD. SO LOUD I DON'T KNOW WHY THEY ARE SO LOUD. I am wearing earplugs and when I take them out it's SO LOUD I CAN HARDLY STAND IT. Why am I writing in all caps? BECAUSE IT CONVEYS THE UNCOMFORTABLE LOUDNESS. That complaint aside I've come to realize that Sloan should now only be heard live. Recent records, sure they've got their good points, but they just don't snap the way the band nail their songs live. Sloan open with the new single from Parallel Play, "I'm Not A Kid Anymore" - doubtless alluding to the fact most of the band is on the brink of their 40's now. Ah, but the boys make it look so good, don't they? Greying but fit, songs crisp and tight, even new songs which have not yet won me over on CD (and there are an inordinate number of them tonight) sound so much more compelling live. Oh Sloan, despite Patrick Pentland's terrible new haircut (kind of a asymetrical faux-hawk), I give in! Even though your last few albums haven't grabbed me the way Twice Removed, Navy Blues, or One Chord To Another did; live, you are still dreamy.
The only thing not so dreamy about this show is this idea the band had about having a fake radio station which broadcasts from their merch table to the club. Apparently their merch guy, talking about stuff was supposed to fill time when the band are changing instruments, but more often than not the band seemed to be waiting for the merch guy to start talking, only to have nothing happen and wonder aloud if he'd gone to the bathroom. Inter-band banter is far better than this (well, except when Merch radio played the Meow Mix ad from the 70's where the cat sings the song where all the words are "Meow" - that was pretty great), can we go back to that time honored model in the future?
The show was also unreasonably weighted with Andrew Scott songs, I don't know why. Lord knows that man is not only a hot drummer, but just hot in general, but still, I like him behind the kit best no matter what kind of eye candy he is.
Unlike the topic of his song below, I was just too tired to stay for the whole set. That's what it's like when you're not a kid anymore.
Sloan play I Can't Sleep at TT the Bear's Audio is not so great, because they are SO FUCKING LOUD.
Download the new single "I'm Not A Kid Anymore" here, free from Stereogum.com
Well I certainly remembered The Cannanes from back in the day, so I was surprised to see that they'd come all the way from Australia to play at The Midway Cafe, a venue just steps from my home that holds about 30 people maximum on any given night. And indeed the maximum was pretty much reached as folks piled in on a Wednesday night to see the delightfully twee pop. Apologizing before many songs ("This next one is a long song, so if you have to go to the bathroom now would be the time"), The Cannanes do self-deprecation well, but the songs really held up well; energetic and sweet even sans a bass player. "He refused to come on tour with us," explained the singer during one of many rambles she credited to "Having done 5000 miles in a van to get here and everyone just wants you to shut up, it's so nice to have some people to talk to!" Adorable.
Show was opened by local Fall/Joy Division/Gang of Four cover band The In Out. Oh wait, those aren't covers... Oh well, I must admit that even though this band wear their influences on their dress shirt sleeves, I still dig their dark angular rock thing. Ain't nothing wrong with that...
Cannanes perform Asleep at the Midway Cafe (sorry so dark, it was dark!)
It's just by luck that my holiday overseas coincided with one of the coolest retro concert ideas I'd heard about it a long time, namely that the godfathers of American quirk, Sparks, were when I was in town, playing each of their 21 albums over a 21 night span at the Carling Academy in Islington. What luck since here in Boston, Sparks could maybe fill a room of 200 for one night (or alternately my living room for 5 nights), an idea they haven't bothered to pursue in at least 20 years. The irony of flying to another country to see a band from LA is not lost on me, but still, we do what we have to do to see the rock.
Carling Academy Islington isn't much like the venues I go to at home. The key difference being that Carling Academy Islington is in a mall. Like, next to The Gap and across from the Starbucks, there is the venue. Very weird. And weirder still is the fact that although it's been here for a decade or so (according to my London friend Douglas), the interior has hardly been fixed up; you know, like a nightclub might be? The ceiling is a mishmash of exposed wiring and pipes, but not a cool looking mishmash like the outside of the Pompidou, just a big ugly unfinished room. Thankfully, we can hardly see any of its ugliness tonight though because the place is literally stuffed to the brim with men between the ages of 40 and 59 (and an occasional friend) who have by all appearances been waiting since 1975 to see the band play their Indiscreet album tonight.
It's possible I've never been at a show this crowded in my life, nor one where literally everyone in the audience is singing along with every line to every song, but that's what tonight's show is like. And rather than that being as annoying as it sounds, it is actually deeply heartwarming. In front of me a man trailing grey curls pokes his balding friend and jumps up and down for every song while behind me a lipsticked young goth sips her drink and rolls her eyes, but for this moment we are all one in loving some Sparks.
On stage, the Mael brothers look older, and they should, what with the pair being somewhere around 60 the idea they're even on stage at all is pretty amazing. Better yet is that fact that they still both have a full head of hair (I'm old, we notice these things) and look rather (haggard yet) stylish. For a little over and hour the pair (along with a band that includes Steven McDonald from Redd Kross) really do kick out the jams. Of course for Ron this involves his standard stock still pose (some things never change) and for Russell a lot of traipsing about in a gangster-style pinstriped suit which makes him look quite dignified. Old rockers + suits = yes in my book. The album is played, as advertised, in order front to end, while video projections of the album's cover (showing the brothers having just escaped from a plane crash) spins behind them (except during Pineapple, when a picture of the fruit does the same). At the end of the night the assembled throng all sing a happy birthday to the numerous band members who are celebrating their special day in the coming week and then a chant goes up: "RON, RON, RON, RON" which provokes the stoic Mael to a turn at the mic, clutching it as the younger Mael clutches a dozen roses someone has thrown on stage. "We locked ourselves away for 4 months, and we had no idea how this would turn out..." "AMAZING!" a voice from the audience shouts. The Maels leave the stage and then return to say how it means so much to them that people are excited about the shows. Am I the only one in the crowd who is verklempt? I think not. Worth waiting 33 years for? Definitely.
Above: Sparks open the Indiscreet show with Hospitality on Parade If the video above don't work, go here.
Oh hurrah, apparently there is a new Sloan album 'Parallel Play' to coincide with their tour, hitting my town in just two weeks! New tracks sounds far more directed than Never Hear The End of it Want to hear it? Click here and you'll link to the nice folks at Yep Roc who are streaming it for free, ahhhhh...
So, did anyone else catch the incredibly nervous Fred Schneider from the B-52's last night on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart?
He was reading passages aloud fromformer White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan's new book 'What Happened'. Apparently Stewart felt the memoir could use some 'punching up' and that's where a awkwardly book-gripping Schneider came in, hollering in his signature vocal style, phrases like "I ran into Scooter Libby!" over a musical track. To view it, see The Huffington Post here.
If only all political audiobooks were read by Schneider, I think sales would go through the roof. If nothing else, it would sure be a lot more fun to dance to them in a club.
It just occurred to me how much people like writing songs about ladies. Off the top of my head:
Lady - Kenny Rogers
Lady - Styx
Lady - Lionel Richie
Lay Lady Lay - Bob Dylan
The Lady Is A Tramp - Sinatra etc.
Ladies Night - Kool and the Gang
Ladies First - Queen Latifah
Hey Ladies - Beastie Boys
I can hardly type fast enough to catalog all of the Ladies I'm thinking about. Yet oddly, does anybody use the word Lady in real life? Isn't it kind of thought of as creepily retro-sexual now?
It's fun to have a fantasy life, but sometimes things can go to far. For instance the fantasy that Brighton's Great Escape Festival is "Europe's answer to South by Southwest" is a somewhat insane assertion at least. And when insanity is involved, someone is going to get hurt - in this case festival attendees. Unlike the noted 'alternative to alternative music industry festivals' that takes place in Austin, Texas every year, Great Escape - at least on the night I attended was filled with sophomoric bands who hardly seemed ready to take the stage (Telepathe), tiresome noodlers (Lightspeed Champion), and don't get me started about the Danish Music showcase.... dear God! This added to the fact that for the overpriced wristband there was in fact no way to really go between venues because all were booked to capacity meant my time there was less than satisfactory.
Upside? Finally getting to tape Fujiya & Miyagi (now a tiresomely over-referenced band in this blog, sorry) doing a song I believe called "Um" - sure to be on their upcoming release "Lightbulb" - which has been my favorite upon seeing them the last few times. The bands also appeared with their new drummer for this hometown show. Sounded awfully cool. Lets keep it that way.
Plus side - Fujiya & Miyagi have sold another song into slavery, this time stateside, for Miller Lite. Since I always endorse situations where musicians get paid for making music, and additionally endorse ones where i don't have to listen to horrible jingles, I declare this a win-win situation.
Minus side - What is far from a win-win however is the newest ad for AT&T's Go Phone starring Meatloaf and his family crooning about getting their teenage son a cellphone to the tune of 'Paradise By The Dashboard Light" Question: Mr. Loaf, are you sure that doing this ad this provides you more dignity than say, having a job at a potato chip factory? Because if you were working at a potato chip factory you'd probably get free potato chips. Also, you wouldn't have to be a public embarrassment on national TV. Not really being much of a bat out of hell lately, are you?
The last time I saw Big Dipper was at the Channel. I don't remember who they were playing with or what year it was, but I do remember diminutive singer Bill Goffrier belting out a cover of Madonna's "You're An Angel", a move which at the time both perplexed and delighted me. Tonight I'll feel the same when the band (now reunited from the 4 corners of the country to support the release of compilation "Supercluster") end the evening with a set of awesome covers that include Shonen Knife's "Making Plans for Bison" and Wings' "Jet".
I suppose this anecdote just goes to show that even though it's been surely 15 years since these gents were last seen locally some things never change. Tonight the pop remains bright and the band don't even show that much wear and tear, save bass player Steve Michener's hair which has turned from brown to shock white, making him look a bit like a 6 foot tall bass playing ghoul. New record wasn't on sale at the merch table, all they had were t-shirts. Luckily I was wearing the one I bought in 1990. Money saved.
Above - Big Dipper perform "Loch Ness Monster" at the show.
Heard about the Nerdcore revolution? Well of course you have, I mean, we're *on* the internet right now, aren't we? And since we are, I'm sure that you are well aware that right now there are rappers out there who are in song form addressing your concerns: internet porn addiction, picking up chicks at Star Wars conventions, the rules of play for Magic The Gathering, etc. etc. If not, you should go directly to the website of MC Frontalot. Frontalot, aka: Damien Hess is a white nerd kind of fellow who lives in NYC and who writes some funky little numbers for all the nerds in the hizzowse. He's also currently the subject of a fine film - "Nerdcore Rising" which documents the struggles of Frontalot and his band as they embark on their first US tour.
How lucky I was then to catch this film when it played here at the Boston Independent Film Festival as well as being able to attend a glamorous afterparty full of free drinks, free snacks and free Frontalot too. As I hoped, the Godfather of Nerdcore Hip Hop was truly a spectacle to see, busting some seriously funky dance moves while wearing a nerdy tie, work pants, and a flashlight around his bald head. As for the band, well they too are unbearably tight and just shockingly groovy. Who knew nerds could make you want to booty shake like this? Maybe there's more to those Star Wars conventions than meets the eye...
Among my small yet terribly, terribly influential group of aging rocker friends the pick to click Friday night was definitely Muck and the Mires' EP release show at the Middle East Upstairs. The evening saw the celebrated local garage rockers bashing out tracks now available on 10" vinyl (talk about retro!) courtesy of England's Dirty Water Records, and in general proving to the assembled throng that there is a damn good reason these cats are so much beloved by garage rock king Little Steven. Tracks on the new EP "Doreen", are produced by legendary music icon Kim Fowley and have more of a 'in the garage' sound than the band's previous brilliant Dirty Water single "I'm Down With That" b/w "One of These Days" and my personal favorite "All I Really Wanna Do Is Cry" which I could listen to like, 100,000 times. Apparently the "Doreen" tracks will soon appear on a full length CD (talk about not so retro) to be titled 'Hypnotic'. Breaths will be held!
Below, enjoy the band kicking ass with a live version of "You Better Write Your Number Down"
I hate to hassle an old dog, but toddling off to see Scarce at the Plough and Stars over the weekend was kind of a downer.
I'd been psyched to hear that the band had reunited in one form or another and were playing out now. I certainly played my copy of Deadsexy to death 10 years ago and had been saddened when frontman Chick Graning had to stop playing due to a brain hemmorage suffered around the time the album came out. So am I shooting fish or just plain old not being kind to say that the duo who appeared for an acoustic set just were entirely not up to snuff? Harmonies were off, new songs did not thrill me. I gave all my attention for a rendition of "Days Like This" but otherwise there wasn't much excitement to be had.
Lord knows I'll give them another shot, anyone can have an off night, because 10 years ago they were truly brilliant. Otherwise, maybe sleeping dogs should just be allowed to lie.
I know I'm being repetitive, but saw Swedish crooner Jens Lekman again this past weekend at The Paradise and again he was totally amazing. His band this time had been scaled back by a few women, and they weren't wearing smocks this time, but they'd been joined by a cellist and Lekman's vocals were stronger than ever. Many people sing, but few have the vocal complexity of Lekman, whose voice is reminiscent of Pete Fijalkowski of Adorable/Polak and a young Gene Pitney, that is if either of them sang with the sweetness of Jonathan Richman.
At the end of the show Lekman entreated the audience of 700+ "I know that I say this at every show, and I don't think many people take me seriously, but I'd really like to sing a song to you one on one. So after the show, if there's a song you'd like to hear, just come up and ask me and I would like to sing it to you one on one." Knowing full well I would doubtless swoon (and hurt myself) if this happened, I declined.
The good folks from Pabst Blue Ribbon kept us in free beers (the smell of my grandfather, now in a can!), while Awake! authors read their stuff to the tuneless and uncomfortable musical natterings provided by members of Tiger Saw and Kosher Ham (I hoped they'd call this melting pot lineup 'Kosher Tiger' but sadly, no such luck). Still, a nice night out indeed.
Don't get me wrong, I love "American Girl" as much as the next gal, but the thing that stood out to me the most about Tom Petty's appearance at the SuperBowl (or as I like to call it - The Superb Owl) was his insistence on keeping the same crappy haircut for more than 30 years.
When Petty was young and it was the mid-70's I guess his flat blonde feathered hair wasn't so bad. But why keep it for 30 years? the man is near 50. Adding a beard is not enough Tom Petty. Lets move the hairdo along.
In other Tom Petty news, I do not think the Heartbreakers would really break too many hearts nowadays. I'm just sayin'...
Listening to The Bay City Rollers' "Yesterday's Hero" this morning I thought about how band cheers are simply not used enough in songs. The tune commences with an ostensibly live crowd hollering "WE WANT ROLLERS, WE WANT ROLLERS" and baby, they don't mean to set their fabulous 70's hair. The only other use I can think of off the top of my head is Sloan's "If It Feels Good Do It" which again starts with, and revisits in the chorus, the Sloan Cheer, also known as "SLLLOOOOOOOAAAANNNN, SLLLOOOOOOOAAAANNNN, SLLLOOOOOOOAAAANNNN"
Not all bands have a cheer. Some bands names are too short (U2 for instance). Some have a clumsy cheer as I have noted previously on this blog. And other bands just aren't worth cheering for (The Barenaked Ladies for instance). But regardless of how nice the bands themselves are, it seems it would be a fine idea to put more band cheers in actual songs. When you hear 1000's of Japanese girls yelling 'Cry! Cry! Cry!' at Robin Zander during the Live from Budokhan version of Cheap Trick's 'I Want You To Want Me' you know they must be on to something. Ain't that the beauty of arena rock?
Of course it's sad to hear of the passing of Oliver Postgate, the creative force behind English children's show Clangers. The unbearably adorable program from the late 60's followed the adventures of tiny sewn mice sort of fellows who live on a faraway planet and whose voices are played by a slide-whistle. Ah, my kingdom for a kinder gentler time in children's television programming.
