Saturday, November 19, 2016
"Doesn't believe in statistics. Believes an invisible god will save her," somebody wrote. "Lesbian?" another asked. Another commented: "Praying to an imaginary being while poison is being pumped through your veins. Sounds like a plan. Shell be dead in a year, right after the medical industry sucks every last possible cent out of her and her insurance company."
'Tis better to be known as a "one hit wonder," or "the brother of Paul Williams," than not be known at all.
Either or both were headlined when Mentor Williams died a few days ago, Nov 16th, at the age of 70 in Taos, New Mexico. Mentor also had a hand in writing "When We Make Love" a 1984 success for Alabama, and the Randy Travis and George Jones novelty "A Few Ole Country Boys" in 1990. He also was a capable guy around the studio, doing a lot of mixing and recording work for a variety of people including Kim Carnes and Paul Macca McCartney (or as they're known together, Caca)
Below you get Mentor's own take on his best-known song, which was of course, not successful. He wasn't a particularly distinctive singer, and his bland country rendition was not what the song needed. Not with lines about "free my soul" and "rock and roll."
John Henry Kurtz and John Kay were among the first to cover "Drift Away" in 1972, but it became a hit in 1973 for Dobie Gray. After that, just about anyone and everyone took a shot. Roy Orbison gave it the traditional country-rock treatment on his "Milestones" record, while The Doobie Brothers re-titled it "Give Me The Beat Boys."
It's been done by Ringo Starr, Bruce Springsteen, Uncle Kracker, the Rolling Stones, Rod Stewart, Bob Seger, Michael Bolton, Bon Jovi, and most recently, Meryl Streep in her film "Ricki And the Flash."
You can definitely get lost in the rock and roll and country cool of "Drift Away." Sorry about the loss of Mentor Williams (who lost his lady love Lynn Anderson July 30, 2015).
Drift Away with Mentor Williams singin' his own song in 1974
Leonard Cohen is, of course, much too well known to be chronicled here on the Blog of Less Renown. He was an ill folkie, with an amusingly black sense of humor, but he was an international success. While not everyone is aware of "The Future," "Everybody Knows," "Tower of Song," or "Don't Leave Home With Your Hard-On," everybody sobs and nods to every horrible rhyme of "Hallelujah."
Singers seem hell bent on making sure to make it sound like the songwriter was from Brooklyn and not Montreal:
"You don't really care much for music, DO YA...her beauty and the moonlight over-THREW YA...I used to live alone before a KNEW YA...HAL A. LEWYA..."
Arguably his second-most-covered-song among the Shaunas and Saskias of the world, is either "Suzanne" or "Bird on the Wire." The latter was startlingly covered by the great Genya Ravan when she got her first (and last) chance with major label Columbia (also Cohen's label). It was released in 1970. I'm frankly surprised my vinyl is still in good shape on this, 'cause I played this track and several others, over and over on late-night radio.
Ravan (pronounced "Raven") sounded like a "black bird," and her version of "Bird" starts softly, with a beautiful gospel touch, before rising into a crescendo of emotion. I was proud to tell her that I thought she was the real deal, and that Janis Joplin was just a "high wind." Genya did not choose to agree or disagree. She was, to paraphrase Dylan being a "diplomat." She kept mum and stroked her siamese cat. No, really. She had it on her shoulder for a while.
If we can make something positive out of Cohen's passing, it came on a high note. What he intimated would be his last album, was deemed a brilliant "comeback" and received glowing reviews. Like Zevon, he was receiving renewed appreciation when the end came. Suffering from back pain and an increasingly frail body, Leonard died following a fall in his home, apparently not regaining consciousness or suffering any further pain from a futile trip to the hospital.
One thing people sometimes say when a person dies is, "Oh, if only I had a chance to say how much I loved the music." Well, that chance still applies to Genya Ravan, who I've always believed to be one of the greatest female vocalists of all time. Just listen to what she does with that BIRD ON THE WIRE.
Bird on the Wire - listen on line or download
No capcha codes, no pop up ads, no moronic egocentric Zinfart passwords.
Al Caiola should be a better known name. The New Jersey guitar great (September 7, 1920-November 9, 2016) recorded about 35 albums for United Artists in the 60's. These "lounge" albums touched on all kinds of genres ("Tuff Guitar Tijuana Style," "Guitar for Lovers," "50 Fabulous Italian Favorites," etc.)
He was UA's ace when it came to covering any popular movie or TV theme. Record stores would welcome topical releases such as "The Magnificent Seven," "Hit Instrumentals from TV Western Themes" or "Sounds for Spies and Private Eyes." This was the age when people would wander in saying, "I was at the movies last night, and I loved the theme song...do you have a copy..." and the knowledgeable store owner would be able to offer singles or albums in every price range.
Al's Top 40 hits included covers of "Bonanza" and "The Magnificent Seven" in 1961.
Aside from sating the tastes of middle-aged people for mood music, or giving a kid such as I a twangy arrangement of a beloved TV theme, Caiola was a dependable session man. He was in the studio for just about everybody: Del Shannon on "Hats off To Larry," Simon and Garfunkel on "Mrs. Robinson," Johnny Mathis on "Chances Are," Al Martino on "Spanish Eyes," Julie London on "Lonely Girl," Ben E. King on "Stand By Me," Mitch Miller on "Yellow Rose of Texas," Johnnie Ray on "Just Walkin' in the Rain," Neil Sedaka on "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do," Dinah Washington on "What a Difference a Day Made," Frank Sinatra on "Bye Bye Baby," Buddy Holly on "It Doesn't Matter Anymore," Mahalia Jackson on "He's Got the Whole World In His Hands," Connie Francis on "Al-Di-La," Eddie Fisher on "Dungaree Doll," Dion on "Abraham Martin and John," Glen Campbell on "Galveston," Rosemary Clooney on "Come on a My House," Tony Bennett on "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," Frankie Avalon on "Venus" and Paul Anka on "My Way." Among others.
Al toured with quite a few famous artists, and probably had his longest relationship with Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme, which I think was still going on when he was 90.
Often, Al's guitar twang was more than enough to sell a tune, whether it was a bouncy western number like "Bonanza" or a more eerie item, like the theme for "Experiment in Terror." On some of his mood albums, his guitar was featured but didn't overpower the rest of the orchestra. The tasteful charts were supplied by a veteran like Don Costa, and maybe the back-up band shaped by a pro like Tommy Mottola.
Below, one of my all-time favorites from Al, a great version of "Slaughter on Tenth Avenue." It's a good example of his guitar work highlighting but not dominating a brilliant chart.
On this arrangement gunshot percussion and a blast of brass let us know that we're in a bad part of town on a dangerous night; West Side Story without chorus boys or Sondheim. Al Caiola hauls out his twanger and seems to count the number of punches being thrown.
We're barely a minute into the tune when the neighborhood really starts to rumble; organ blasts to one side, gasping horns on the other. And then, soaring over it all like a police helicopter, one hell of a trumpet. Blow, Gabriel, because some devils are gonna be swoopin' the planet tonight.
Too often it's easy to overlook how calculated "charts" can be, and how perfectly they can produce some sonic sock. This is a textbook example on how to pull out all stops in tempo, juxtaposition of brass vs percussion, and the texture of hard bongo skin and twangy guitar, to produce an audio picture of mixed-neighborhood mayhem.
Next comes the warning wail of a trumpet again, a police siren howl. The organ weeps and shudders, but the relentless drums don't stop, and with 40 seconds left, Al Caiola picks up the body count with his guitar pick, till the squealer brass section calls the cops and there's a final stuttering step-away from the crime by the drums.
This was one helluva slaughter - Listen or Download
Wednesday, November 09, 2016
While the Musitron did get used in one serious rock single (Del Shannon's "Runaway,") the moog was best served in Top 40 via the hot buttered hit "Popcorn." That single would not have popped into the ears of a grateful public were it not for the team of Perrey and Kingsley and their pioneering "In Sound from Way Out" album.
For many, the best Moog and electronic stuff remains the novelty discs from the likes of Kingsley and Perrey. You'll like the samples below.
Green Green Grass of Home
"Even the President of the United States sometimes must have to stand naked." Bob Dylan
The naked truth about Donald Trump is that he was able to thrive in a divided, fearful, hate-driven country.
He was bitching that it was a "rigged" election. Who were The Riggers? His supporters. White Riggers, mostly. Meth addicts. Toothless Kentucky and Florida rednecks. Borderline mental defectives with chain saws and guns. Frightened woman-haters. The KKK. Religious fanatics who think a raped woman should bear the child of her psycho-tormentor while THEY spill sperm in men's rooms pretending they aren't gay.
I could go on. If Donald Trump did STAND NAKED, he would reveal that he's a dick who played on the worst traits of inbred American farmers and farts.
It's human nature, really, if you're a white man of the Donald Trump variety. You're happy to import foreign whores to be mail-order brides. If one doesn't work out, get another. That they are dumb-ass bitches who can't speak English and have no brains doesn't matter. They let you grab pussy. Ivanka or Melania, or some bimbo named Marla, it's just pussy. Fuck it. Impregnate it. Raise a few inbred monsters who look like you.
If you're a white man who supports Donald Trump, you are suspicious of foreigners. "Xenophobia" used to be scorned as ridiculous, but some immigrants lately are so self-entitled, obnoxious and downright dangerous, it's no surprise that Trump rose to prominence by screaming, "We'll build a wall." If you pick up a fucking phone in America to dial any business, you're likely to get a recorded message in SPANISH, asking you if you'd like to listen in SPANISH. Who wouldn't be offended when one race refuses to speak English and expects YOU to get a headache listening to jibber-jabber?
Donald doubled-down on the "Xenophobia" quite easily, because another annoying bunch, the Muslims, have committed almost all the acts of terror in the world. ISIS. Boko Harum. Draw a cartoon and they'll kill you. Be gay and they'll kill you. Be a woman and your genitals get mutilated. Be an ordinary citizen doing good work in San Bernardino, for example, or watching a marathon race in Boston, and you're shot to death or bombed to pieces. No surprise that Trump received huuuuuuge support from pissed off white guys.
Add good Christian women who think abortion is terrible, but who don't adopt children themselves, and don't care about overpopulation at a time when fish and bees are disappearing and food is becoming contaminated, and rents are soaring and diseases proliferating. To low-rent cunts in Georgia or Tennessee, old-fashioned values involve breeding Christians, not watching packs of Hispanics scuttle around (even if Hispanics tend to be Christian).
When it comes to standing naked, Donald should explain to us why HE can be protected by air conditioning and limos, while WE suffer, and have to strip down as much as we can. Donald Trump does not believe in climate change. He thinks it's bullshit. That means he'll make sure to push for more filthy coal production and pipelines spilling oil all over the land. He's actually laughed that using aerosol sprays can't damage the ozone layer because they disappear in the room you're in.
If you ignore Bill Maher's "FBI coup" theory (that in the last weeks they made it seem Hillary was more crooked and corrupt than the average politician), the big reason Clinton lost was because of her moderate views on immigration. She said she'd welcome more Syrians, and she would NOT deport Mexicans, and that Muslims are lovely people.
She also happened to be an extremely literate, poised, and intelligent WOMAN...which makes toothless Florida rednecks and retarded Pennsylvania coal miners suspicious, and downright hateful.
Trump moaned that Chicago is being torn by violence, and the poor blacks in the inner cities are being killed. What do you suppose he'll do about THAT? Send in the National Guard and shoot anyone who riots, that's what. He'll look the other way as more and more Americans stock up on assault weapons and murder each other. After all, he thought his two mongrel sons were wonderful when they went to Africa and shot up the wildlife, and posed with a dead tiger and the tail of a murdered elephant. All over the Internet today, writers are predicting all the different ways Trump could make America and the world a living hell.
I only offer some random thoughts on this, the morning after. As Paul Simon sang it, "No I would not give you false hope on this strange and mournful day."
To be optimistic about it, we do know that the President usually gets nothing done. He is not a king. Whether it's Nixon, Reagan or the Bushes, certain laws, rules and customs survive. If only by the sheer incompetence of the government, even the best schemes don't reach fruition. So in incompetency there is hope.
It's possible Trump will not be able to dismantle Obamacare and make life worse for those with physical and mental miseries. It's possible he won't appoint dour religious fanatics to the Supreme Court and overturn the abortion laws. It's quite likely he'll approve lax marijuana laws because a country of pot-headed dipshits will be too stoned to care about the rest of his agenda. Liberals have pointed to a bunch of states legalizing marijuana as a sign "all wasn't lost" on election day.
So we wait. "Is he REALLY going to build the wall? Is he REALLY going to deport thousands of Mexicans? Is he REALLY going to keep Muslims out of the country? And how is he REALLY going to destroy ISIS without starting World War Three? And what compromises will be make with his buddy Putin?" Some are praying that Trump, who was once a Democrat, will slyly shed his cloak of conservative stodginess. Surely he's used birth control with his whores. He wouldn't want his creepy sons to be stuck with brats they didn't want. MAYBE he'll have an advisor or two who can talk sense to him. After all, his victory speech wasn't the preening, smirking ego-fest you'd expect. He actually had a sense of humor about how half the country didn't vote for him and didn't think he was right for the job.
America is fractured. It's been fractured but now you can see the break and the blood and the sores and the sinews exposed. Most every election has been close, with close to 50% of the country NOT voting for the man who became President. Dubya Bush slipped by twice. Obama squeaked by twice. Trump didn't really win by much. And so it will be a happy "White Christmas" mostly for conservative, fearful/hateful white people, the ones clinging to family values that they ignore. That includes the anti-gay men who get caught in men's rooms, and all those people who insist guns are for their protection only they end up getting offed by a friend or a relative or even a baby accidentally pulling the trigger on a weapon left nearby.
Stand Naked and admit that what motivates people is not what they like but what they hate.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Zacherley ad-libbed gags, performed mini-skits, and made the weekly “Shock Theater” show a joy for the locals. He moved on to New York. Though still local on the East Coast he had enough of a following to interest a local record label. Though perhaps most of the sales were coming from his home base of Philadelphia, “Dinner with Drac” was a hit in 1958. New York’s Warren Publishing put him on the cover of their struggling “Famous Monsters of Filmland” magazine in 1960. Soon the “Monster Craze” was in full bloom, and Zacherley paperbacks appeared, along with new Zacherley albums.
Aurora model kits let brats paint up replicas of Dracula and Frankenstein, and the toy store was loaded with monster cards and games. "The Addams Family" and "The Munsters" were part of the cash-in, and "Famous Monsters" magazine, its spin-off "Monster World," and "Castle of Frankenstein" had revered places on the magazine rack, sometimes even edging off Nugget, Sir, Rogue and Gent.
“Monster Mash” was a huge hit, and old-time horror actors like Karloff, Lorre and Price were in demand for new movies. Zacherley sometimes adopted a slightly Karloffian vocal for his novelty tunes (he did cover "Monster Mash" and was a bit of a Boris on "The Ghoul from Wolverton Mountain" among other parodies). Still, his make-up and his humor was uniquely his own, along with his somewhat Bostonian demeanor and that cheerful, barking laugh.
The mid and late 60's TV show did well, and Zach became a rock radio host. The fans that blew bubble gum while listening to "Dinner with Drac" were now blowing their minds, exploring drugs and FM-progressive rock. Zach was with them, first on WNEW and then WPLJ. When groups such as Boko Harum (or whatever they were called) and Foghat and the Alex Harvey Band were booked for ABC’s “Wide World of Entertainment,” the shows were simulcast in stereo on WPLJ, introduced by Zacherley.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
It's Halloween time, and all over what's left of blogland, people are dutifully upping "Monster Mash" yet again, offering "The Addams Family" theme, or noting that Burt Backache wrote "The Blob," but it did not chart. Some unimaginative swine will be offering Albino Brother #2''s novelty instrumental "Frankenstein" or, har har, "Ghostbusters" (maybe with an oh-so-scholarly note about its similarity to a Huey Lewis tune).
As Oscar Brand's "The Hearse Song" isn't really intended as a Halloween item, and it IS obligatory to note holidays, your download is "Dracula's Three Daughters." It's from the neglected Ray Ellington, best known these days as the singer who provided a musical interlude during episodes of "The Goon Show." Ah, holidays. If not for them, boring people wouldn't have anything to blab about except sports and politics.
Nerds, I am fully aware that the photo above is actually of Dracula's brides, NOT his daughters. But don't they look nice? That's Ivana, Marla and Melania
Dracula's Three Daughters - listen online or download. No capcha codes, pop-ups or passwords
He knew and worked with Pete, Woody Guthrie, Leadbelly, Jean Ritchie and all the legends, and hosted a remarkably long-running radio show in New York (originating on WNYC). While a traditionalist, he supported all the newer performers, and his radio guests included Phil Ochs and Judy Henske. Oscar appeared on the memorable TV broadcast of the “Tribute to Phil Ochs” in 1976, singing an updated version of “Love Me I’m a Liberal.” (On the same bill, two of the Weavers, Fred Hellerman and Pete Seeger, took on Phil’s other satiric classic, “Draft Dodger Rag.”)
To digress, below you'll note a little mention of the IllFolks blog. Sometimes bloggers offer up a list of recommended sites, and one fellow very kindly added a link to THIS one, but with a slight caveat. Just look down a bit (passing quite a few of now-defunct blogs and websites) and note this site and a parenthetical word of caution:
No, it's not "Captain Spaulding," it's Mel Torme, no longer tormented by a stinker who is "not the only starfish in the sea."
If you want to know how the Rat Pack-types would do a jazz version of this folk-rock kiss-off, here it is. The mid-60's and late 60's were perilous times for lounge singers. Now "retro-cool," at the time they were becoming corny. They survived as best they could. After crooning "Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime" in his typical insincere way, Dean Martin starred on a long-running barely-rehearsed comedy-variety show.
Sinatra, going morbid ("It Was a Very Good Year") simmered sourly about retirement, and went into some odd phase by hooking up with boyish Mia Farrow. Sammy Davis Jr. got cornier ("Candy Man") but mostly stayed in Vegas. His version of "Mr. Bojangles" wowed the crowds there, but it was Jerry Jeff Walker and Bobby Cole who dueled each other on the Top 40 singles charts.
The rest of the lounge acts and Rat Pack wanna-be's simply had to hep it up as best they could. Andy Williams, Jack Jones, Bing Crosby, Peggy Lee, Kate Smith and even George Burns covered whatever rock songs MIGHT be middle-of-the-road enough for the old fans and tolerable for anyone else listening. And so they did "Mr. Bojangles" or "Bridge Over Troubled Water" or "Hey Jude" or "I Think It's Going to Rain Today" or those awful hybrids like "Up Up and Away."
Paul Simon's stuff was easily covered, but not so easily swung (Sinatra's "Mrs. Robinson" is elsewhere on this blog). Mel Torme did a good job on "Red Rubber Ball." He was known as "The Velvet Fog" (and not too thrilled with the those who falsely called him "The Velvet Fag" or more accurately as he got older and more bulge-eyed, "The Velvet Frog.") Here, his voice actually has a lot more clarity and less of the soft burr.
Paul, born and raised in Queens, New York, and a big baseball fan, no doubt spent his early teen years playing with a specific "red rubber ball." It was what New Yawkers called a "Spaldeen." With hard balls and softballs not suited to street play, and a tennis ball lacking pop, kids bought a "pinky" instead. No, it was never actually bright red, but kids thought of it that way anyway. If you wuz a New York kid, you'd woik up an appetite playin' stickball with yer "Spaldeen," and then if you didn't have to drop into the "Lie-berry" to get books for skoo-well, you'd go home and have a bowl of "Piss-ketti."
Oh the nostalgia of red rubber balls, blue balls, finger-snappin' lounge singers, melodic pop songs, and getting over a break-up with a bitch.
RED RUBBER BALL - listen on line or download, no Zinfart passwords, no porn ads, no capcha codes.
Woah, it's been about TEN years since Gina Gershon self-pressed her album?
Sunday, October 09, 2016
Things have not gone well for Paul Simon lately.
There was that odd "domestic violence" incident, where the diminutive singer-songwriter was accused of attacking his willowy wife, Edie Brickell. (Edie refused to press charges, and then went off to co-write a Broadway musical with Steve Martin).
Paul's newest album got the same reviews as always: "Not as good as the last one." A charity appearance (was it at the tribute to Joan Baez or at the convention nominating Hillary Clinton?) had critics moaning that his singing was off.
He then declared that he was most likely retiring from the road, because at 74, he simply was sick and tired of it.
And now? A new bio threatens to close the book on him.
How's THIS for a headline?
At least this news seems a little more important than Matt Damon grumbling about Trump, or some media whore posing in her bra.
I have not read the book.
I will not DIGNIFY it by buying it.
I will, however, download it when it becomes available on a torrent.
Not that I expect much. This guy Carlin is a hack, and a shitty writer. From the "juicy" quotes the newspapers have printed so far, this guy seems like even more of a presumptuous prat than Paul could ever be. How about this:
"On a darker day Paul would examine his friend from afar and feel a pulse of bile. Why had Artie gotten to be so blessed, with his height, his voice, his hair? And why did Paul have to be so dependent on him?"
"For fuck sake! He'd known Artie since they were eleven: Artie with braces, Artie with zits, Artie with a Yarmulke on his head surrounded by all the bearded Jews hoisting the Torah around the synagogue in Queens."
Yeah? Where was Carlin? Not even born yet? It's a bit too easy to come up with this kind of psycho-babble, and to accentuate the rivalry that did and still does exist between the two. It's also easy to cut and paste from the many articles that have touched on Paul not giving credit where it's due.
The stories about Simon being sulky or nasty or arrogantly grabbing somebody else's work are not new.
Rolling Stone ran a piece several years ago about how Paul ripped off Los Lobos, and pretty much said "Sue me," to the bewildered band members. Then there's the question of the mysterious "Red Rubber Ball" which was a Bruce Woodley co-write. Or did Bruce write the whole thing, and "Cloudy," too?
There's no question that Paul IS a genius and DID write most of his own stuff. But just as Dylan has been plagued with a few plagiarism rumors, Paul's been under the microscope from time to time. There's also the question of just how "fair" it is to do what so many performers do...have someone come in and do "editorial" work for a straight cash fee, add some lyrics or chord changes, and NOT get a co-write credit.
I've heard rumors, but I'll leave it at that.
The book no doubt also will offer a few stories that will indicate Paul is a prick. Would this come as any surprise? It's the "ordinary temperament of genius," as Mr. Poe once phrased it. It's possible to be warm, have a sense of humor, be very sensitive...and also be a perfectionist, selfish, and sometimes loutish.
Below? Well, below is an example of the songwriter at work, and proof that Paul has done what all great songwriters have done...re-written something to make it better. Bob Dylan was and is notorious for re-writing lyrics even as he records them, and once famously scrapped an album at the last minute ("Blood on the Tracks") to re-do most of it with a new band and in some cases, revised lyrics.
This Simon "first audio draft" has the famous "Zoo" melody, but the lyrics are different.
Just as Paul McCartney mumbled "Scrambled Eggs" before he arrived at "Yesterday," Paul Simon had some similar breakfast problems, before taking his words to the zoo instead:
"Something tells me things have changed since I've been gone.
My bowl of Rice Krispies ain't what it used to be!"
His lady friend isn't what she used to be, either:
"Your eyes are filled with icicles, your touch is bitter cold.
And I know I have been on the road too long..."
Hear what happens when you're so alienated, your bowl of Rice Krispies gives you the silent treatment.
MY BOWL OF RICE KRISPIES "
Chances are, the reason is that the man in charge is a nasty egomaniacal has-been old goat, who can't come up with new songs, can't get along with anyone, and alienates everyone except for maybe a toady running his website for free.
The last time I checked, one particular old favorite group has really run aground. They've had hard times. It's so bad, I don't even want to mention their name. For ten years, they've averaged maybe five gigs a year, with only ONE original member who pays himself while the others...er...they pretty much work for nothing but the "prestige" of being able to say they're in a (once famous) band.
The lead singer has fallen face-first in a drunken stupor, been accused (I think wrongly) of leading Nigerian sociopaths into killing Christians, and ultimately has had delusions that he's actually Adolf Hitler. This has not helped in getting gigs. He has gone so totally mad that he sings with a German accent; his once famed braying-bugle voice now sounding like a mad Nazi duck on drugs.
But don't take MY word for it. I took a bus to a train to a zeppelin to Norway to secretly record him at the sound check to a show that was canceled. Yes, as soon as the booker (that's spelled BOOKER) heard how badly the hit song was being sung, he shouted "Raus!" Once you hear how this once-great singer now performs, you'll agree: this lead singer is all wet, and his cover band has run afloat.Un Vita Shit O Pail
Yes, "not with a bang but with a whimper."
Torrents, forums and blogs come and go. People rarely miss them for long, if at all.
One once-popular forum passed its expiration date years ago, but collapsed just recently. Most of its key members left in disgust, rather than witness the final demise. It seems the forum had almost no posts month after month, and seemed to imitate a fumigated roach, lying on its back with its legs feebly kicking, hardly able to give a buzz. No, nobody wanted to know about the fifth re-up of Levitt & McClure, read some old fogey post about how Spotify and piracy are GOOD for the music biz, or try and decipher some nutjob posting more 1970's Yugoslavian rock albums.
Back in the day, there are some good members. Yes, there are fake names I'll remember, all my life, though some have changed. A few are most definitely around, and easy to find. And a few, who the fuck cares. One or two lead to the idle thought of "whatever became of..." and you almost would like to know.
Have you seen Elaine?
A better question is have you seen The Curries? They wrote and sang 'Elaine,' and their album was no doubt given away on the forum at some point or other. Cherie does seem to turn up at memorabilia shows now and then, signing album covers and photos for $20, and posing for some grinning fatso or beret-wearing geek, as long as they fork over another $20.
Oh yes, the most famous woman ever to be called "Elaine" is most definitely around: Julia Louis Dreyfus. She's had several shows since "Seinfeld," which goes to show that if someone or something really IS good, it endures.
HAVE YOU SEEN ELAINE "
The cringing memes all over the Internet said: "Pray for Everyone in the Path of Hurricane Matthew."
It seems that any time there's a natural disaster, people turn into religious fanatics, as primitive as the assholes of ISIS.
Pray? To GOD? But don't you believe GOD created the world in 6 days, and caused rain for 40 days and 40 nights, and makes the hurricanes as well as the little green apples? Why not shut the fuck up and trust that GOD knows what he's doing? MAYBE he thinks there are too many people in Haiti and in the Deep South.
If people believe in praying to GOD, maybe the believe in other forms of mystical mumbling, from karma to chants, threats and curses.
Below? "I'll Be There!"
It suggests that revenge is sweet AND inevitable. Like, if you cheat somebody out of their royalties, it MIGHT bite you on the ass, even if it takes 40 years.
Do curses work? Do prayers work? Does this download work? Well, that's at least one out of three, for sure.
I’LL BE THERE Hurricane Matthew "
Monday, September 19, 2016
For a variety of artists, including Bob and Phil, and most certainly the Kingston Trio and Peter Paul and Mary, The Weavers were the first and the best; they taught by example. For many generations, the first music they heard was either church hymns or folk music.
The Weavers updated "To Tell Aunt Rhody" and "My Darling Clementine," and added a vast repertoire in concert.
One of the first albums to influence me was "The Weavers on Tour," which had a wonderful segment of comic folk songs.
The Weavers were Lee Hays, Pete Seeger, Ronnie Gilbert and Fred Hellerman. I was able to pay my respects to Pete and Fred. With Pete, I could mention that not only was I delighted with his own comical "Talking Blues" on that Weavers record, but how he supported and validated the young stars who came after him, including Phil Ochs.
With Fred, I mentioned how much I loved "The Frozen Logger" on that record. Pete Seeger set up the story, with Hellerman as the love-lorn waitress. Why not Ronnie Gilbert? It was funnier from Fred.
Fred Hellerman (May 13, 1927 – September 1, 2016) was more than a fourth of The Weavers. He had an active solo performing career, and he was even a producer ("Alice's Restaurant" for Arlo Guthrie). Like Seeger, he was very active in his old age, and was often on hand at gatherings of folk greats. If you check for photos on Fred, you'll see him hanging around with a guitar in hand, with Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey, among many others.
One of the least appreciated aspects about folk music is its humor. Maybe that's because it's actually pretty hard to create a really good comic song. "The Frozen Logger" is just such a tall tale, relying as it does on humorous imagery. Here's a guy so tough that he gets rid of his whiskers by driving them in with a hammer, and biting them off inside.
Like the stories by everyone from Jack London to Mark Twain, the fun is in the imagination, and in this little song, there's a sweet, ludicrous element of wistfulness in love lost and perhaps found again some day.
It's a bit sad that the window from childhood to adulthood is so narrow now. The time for enjoying a melodic little song is shorter. Too soon reality interferes, and very quickly "hipness" and "coolness" are all that's important. The rag doll is kicked under the bed and stays there, along with the crayons and the drawing paper. It's more important to fiddle with a computer and a cellphone. A teddy bear is nothing compared to a sleek piece of plastic that can help you get free porn, free noise and a chance to collect non-existent Pokemon blips.
A documentary on The Weavers was called "Wasn't That a Time." Wasn't it? The Weavers. Peter Paul and Mary. The Beatles. There was a time when discovering music was a joyous thing. Your favorite performer didn't strut around on stage sticking her tongue out and waving a dildo.
There was some humanity in stories about life on "Penny Lane," about Puff the Magic Dragon, and about a waitress recalling her lover: "There's none like him today." No. And not like Fred Hellerman, either.
FRED HELLERMAN The Frozen Logger
Friday, September 09, 2016
On September 7, 2003, Warren Zevon died. For those who remember his song about breathing polyvinyl chloride in a factory, it was not a surprise that his death was caused by mesothelioma. “Some get the awful-awful diseases…” he sang in another song, pre-diagnosis.
On September 7, 2016, Bobby Chacon died from a fall while in hospice care. For over a decade, his awful-awful disease was dementia, the result of all the incredibly violent battles he fought against the likes of Ruben Olivera and Bazooka Limon, Alexis Arguello, Cornelius Boza Edwards, Art Frias and…immortalized in a Zevon song, Boom Boom Mancini.
Back then most boxing matches were free on ABC’s afternoon series “Wide World of Sports.” So, yeah, “hurry home early, hurry on home: Boom Boom Mancini’s fighting Bobby Chacon.” I was probably already home, since it was a Saturday and I had no job. Years later, Ray signed my copy of the Zevon CD.
Out of the ring, Chacon was well known for spending his money fast, and indulging himself in every way possible. It seemed his lifestyle might change once he got married. His wife not only wanted a stable home life, she begged him to quit boxing before he got seriously hurt. He refused. She shot and killed herself. This would not be the only gun tragedy in Bobby’s life. About a decade later, his son was murdered. A decade later, and he was slowly becoming brain-dead from the effects of all his fights.
A famous song by a certain Paul McCartney asks, “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64.” The answer in Chacon’s chase was not really, and without much enthusiasm. At 64, he was just another hospice patient, with some of the nurses probably not caring much of he lived or…fell down and died. Which is what happened to him. How do you fall down and die? Probably nobody even asked that question, figuring the main thing was that Bobby was out of his misery and everyone else’s.
Bobby Chacon (November 28, 1951 – September 7, 2016) was a macho guy, one of the great fighters of his day. Below, a live performance from Zevon, who, as the title suggests, was chronicling another great, tough competitor, Ray Mancini. One of the reasons people still think so highly of Ray, is that he faced off against dangerous Bobby Chacon.
WARREN ZEVON in Paris, February 5, 1988
One of the last of the classic TV western heroes, Hugh O’Brian is best remembered as the clean-shaven version of Wyatt Earp, “brave, courageous and bold.”
Born in New York (Hugh Charles Krampe; April 19, 1925 – September 5, 2016) the rugged star enlisted in the Marines in 1943, and after service, enrolled at Yale with the intention of becoming a lawyer. Somehow he ended up dating an actress in Santa Barbara, with a day job as a clothing salesman.
His girlfriend was appearing in a play called “Home and Beauty.” When an actor dropped out, the play’s director, Ida Lupino asked him to give the part a try. He got some good reviews and soon after signed a contract at Universal. Four years later, 1955, he landed the Wyatt Earp assignment.
There were plenty of actors impersonating famous names from the West, including Guy Madison (Wild Bill Hickok), Gene Barry (Bat Masterson), Barry Sullivan (Pat Garrett), Leslie Nielsen (“The Swamp Fox”), and Fess Parker (Davy Crockett). Almost nobody resembled the original, and half the time there was some historian or other to cast doubt on how heroic the original actually was.
There was plenty of competition from actors playing fictional characters, including James Arness (Matt Dillon), John Russell (Dan Troop), Steve McQueen (Josh Randall), Richard Boone (Paladin), James Garner (Maverick), Jack Kelly (another Maverick), Clint Walker (Cheyenne Bodie) as well as Nick Adams, Tom Tryon, Dale Robertson, Clayton Moore, Wlil Hutchins and many more.
Some of the shows hold up, some don’t. Most of the better ones were “adult westerns,” which had some complexity to the lead character, and plots that didn’t always revolve around a gunfight ending. Unfortunately, “The Adventures of Wyatt Earp” was a bit more oriented toward younger viewers, and is distractingly handicapped by a weird soundtrack; instead of music, there’s the Ken Darby singers, offering “ooh and ahhh” a cappella mewlings. Very strange.
And…yeah, when it came time for the almost obligatory “the hero SINGS” album, it was Ken Darby and his annoying singers who were enlisted. Unlike many albums that relied on traditional folk songs (Pernell Roberts comes to mind), O’Brian’s album featured originals hastily penned by Ken Darby, and heavily relying on his chorus to help mask any problems with O’Brian’s vocals. How much of the lead singing is even Hugh O’Brian as opposed to some guy who sounded a bit like him, I have no idea.
Your sample from the 1957 album is “The Bushwacker Country,” a pretty offbeat ballad about Earp and his dealings with The Ben Tompson Gang. It offers some eerie minor key moanings. And hey, the title has both BUSH and CUNT in it.
O’Brian went on to many other assignments in movies and on TV, and trivia fans happily note that when Raymond Burr missed a “Perry Mason” show in 1963, Hugh came in to take his place as one of Perry’s attorney friends. He was often on game shows, and was quite a literate presence on “Password.” O’Brian’s other TV series was the short-run “Search” in 1972. Once in a while he gave a nostalgic reprise to Wyatt Earp, notably “The Gambler Returns” (1991) and “Return to Tombstone” (1994). O'Brian became something of an authority on Earp, who married a Jewish woman (very daring at the time) and is buried in a Jewish cemetery, "on the other side of the hills from the San Francisco airport. That's where Wyatt is buried with Josie."
Fans of Hugh have their own favorite films, including a remake of “Ten Little Indians,” the romantic comedy “Come Fly With Me,’ “Love Has Many Faces,” “In Harm’s Way,” and “Murder On Flight 502,” which had a neat plot twist for his character. He turned up in all sorts of things, playing Arnold Swartzennegars' father in the movie "Twins" and along with Buddy Hackett, became a comedy team when Abbott & Costello were not available for an item scripted for them, “Fireman Save My Child.” I was glad to mention some of my favorites to him (no, not at some memorabilia event with a bunch of grimacing Huelbigs standing on line to pay him) and chose a non-Earp photo for him to sign...a picture of Hugh with his (not-Monty) python in "Africa, Texas Style." He was much more than Wyatt Earp. He married rather late in life, and in his 80’s was quite different in appearance from his TV hero days; a guy with long hair, problems walking, and difficulty hearing.
At 90, he wrote his autobiography and titled it: “Hugh O’Brien, Or What’s Left Of Him.” As most self-published or desperate authors do, he booked himself on Connie Martinson’s pay-to-be-interviewed book review TV series.
O’Brian always knew there were ways of changing the world beyond being an actor. Back in 1958, he was meeting with Albert Schweitzer and looking for ways to use his fame in the most positive ways possible. O’Brian founded the Hugh O’Brian Youth Leadership Foundation. While millions have been entertained by O’Brian’s acting work, there are about a half-million whose lives have been changed thanks to their high school years that were enhanced by the Foundation.
A bit of philosophy from Hugh O’Brian:
“I do NOT believe we are all born equal. Created equal in the eyes of God, yes, but physical and emotional differences, parental guidelines, varying environments, being in the right place at the right time, all play a role in enhancing or limiting an individual's development. But I DO believe every man and woman, if given the opportunity and encouragement to recognize their potential, regardless of background, has the freedom to choose in our world. Will an individual be a taker or a giver in life? Will that person be satisfied merely to exist or seek a meaningful purpose? Will he or she dare to dream the impossible dream? I believe every person is created as the steward of his or her own destiny with great power for a specific purpose, to share with others, through service, a reverence for life in a spirit of love.
HUGH O’BRIAN Bushwacker Country
Back in September of 1965, just about any cash-in on The Beatles was bound to get some airplay. There are plenty of bootleg CDs just loaded with songs about The Beatles, songs by groups trying to sound like The Beatles, as well as novelty cover versions of Beatles tunes.
One that has been overlooked, is The Leasebreaker’s version of “Help,” produced for United Artists by Gerry Granahan. No, that's not the surviving Leasebreakers in the photo. It's Gerry and two other survivors of the golden age of transistor radio-driven pop songs.
Born in Pittston, Pennsylvania (April 20, 1932), he worked both as a disc jockey and as a singer in local Poconos and Catskills resorts. A labelmate of Bobby Darin’s at Atco circa 1957, he struggled for a few years, under his own name, as well as aliases Jerry Grant and Nick Rome. He then became Dicky Doo and with his group, The Don’ts, and scored with the single “Click-Clack,” inspired by his pal Bo Diddley.
This was followed by the peculiar “Nee Nee Na Na Na Na Nu Nu” (which was covered by Jonathan Winters!) and, once again using his own name, “No Chemise Please.” He juggled concert dates as both Gerry Granahan and Dicky Doo & The Don’ts. He also produced singles for The Fireflies. At 28, he formed his own label, Caprice Records, and allied himself with other new talents, including Sonny Bono and Mac Davis. He discovered Janie Grant, and her song “Triangle” became his label’s first Top 40 hit. His next discovery was James Ray, who had a hit with “If You Gotta Make a Fool of Somebody.” Ray’s album included a song called “I’ve Got My Mind Set On You,” which became a hit album track for George Harrison some 26 years later.
Though Caprice Records folded in the mid-60’s, Granahan had no trouble finding a new home. It was at United Artists. Granahan produced hits for Jay and the Americans there, and guided the singing career of TV sitcom star Patty Duke. He also produced the comedy albums of Pat Cooper, and a single called “Wild Thing,” for a group called The Wild Ones. Yeah, it became a hit for The Troggs. The label owned the soundtrack to The Beatles’s “A Hard Days Night” film, and eventually Gerry got around to covering The Beatles by producing the Leasebreakers’ novelty version of “Help.”
This instrumental version of “Help,” seems to owe its inspiration more to Herb Alpert (who first charted with the Tijuana Brass in 1962) than to the early, noisy, “How to Break a Lease” novelty albums from the late 50’s. It’s basically a fairly credible attempt to kick some brass into the Fab Four, more than be Spike Jones about it.
It might be a minor footnote in Gerry’s career (which of course continued well past the 60’s) but this site likes to bring obscurities to life. This blog always tries to…HELP!
Gerry Granahan’s LEASEBREAKERS HELP!