Song of the Week – What A Way To End It All, Deaf School

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Back in 1978, a copy of English Boys/Working Girls by the British band Deaf School arrived at WZBC, where I was a DJ at the time. It was the height of the punk rock revolution.  I gave the album a listen and found it bafflingly out of step with the moment.  It wasn’t quite punk, but it wasn’t anything else I could easily identify either. So where exactly did it belong?

I recently read an article about Deaf School in MOJO magazine (#395) and was surprised to learn that English Boys/Working Girls was actually the band’s third album, not their debut as I had assumed all these years.

MOJO awarded Deaf School’s first album, 2nd Honeymoon, released 50 years ago this month, a five-star review.  Their synopsis, written by Fergal Kinney, read:

Though those who caught Deaf School around this time swear that this album never quite captured their dazzle, 2nd Honeymoon endures as a truly sparkling English pop record: consistently surprising, tight as a vice, and abundant with hooks, wit and often dramatic arrangements. Their biggest splash.

That was enough to send me searching for the album.  I wasn’t disappointed.  This set from the Liverpool Art College collective takes elements of Kurt Weill, the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, and — remarkably, given that they would not appear for several more years — the sort of theatrical Latin-pop exuberance later associated with Kid Creole and the Coconuts, blending them into something entirely distinctive.

Take the opening track, “What A Way To End It All.”  A song about suicide (“Goodbye cruel world and cheerio / Through all this time I’ve got to / What a way to end it all”) is set to jaunty music-hall cabaret.  The song’s sardonic black humor collides with its buoyant melody, producing a result that is both unsettling and irresistible.

I was also surprised to discover “What A Way To End It All” was included on the 1978 Warner Brothers “Loss Leaders” sampler, Limo.

The album is packed with similar delights.  “Where’s the Weekend?”, “Bigger Splash”, “Knock Knock Knocking”, and “Hi Jo Hi” are all overflowing with memorable hooks, clever arrangements, and the band’s wonderfully eccentric sense of fun.

Fifty years after its release, 2nd Honeymoon remains a dazzling, inventive record that sounds unlike anything else before or since.  If you’ve never heard Deaf School, run to your favorite streaming service and give this criminally overlooked album a spin.  You won’t regret it.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Little Sister / Get Back, Elvis Presley

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

I was recently on a cross-country JetBlue flight and had time to watch a movie.  I selected EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert, a documentary directed by Baz Luhrmann that was released in the United States in February 2026.  The film draws heavily from previously unseen footage of Presley during his various Las Vegas residencies in the 1970s.

When I started the movie, I was a little apprehensive about what I was about to see. I’ve always preferred 1950s rocker Elvis — and even the movie-star Elvis of the 1960s in films like Jailhouse Rock, King Creole, and Viva Las Vegas — to the bloated Las Vegas caricature that has come to define his final decade.  But Luhrmann’s film presents Elvis in a very different light.  The footage shows him as charming, funny, and fully engaged with his audience, while the musical performances are often electrifying.  Take, for instance, his spirited medley of “Little Sister” and the Beatles’ “Get Back,” which demonstrates just how much energy and charisma he still possessed.

Some viewers may argue that the film is a whitewash that fails to present the full picture of Elvis’s declining health and personal struggles during this period.  In fact, as noted on Wikipedia, The Guardian’s Radheyan Simonpillai praised the concert sequences while criticizing Luhrmann’s “refusal … to meaningfully hold Elvis to account.”

I don’t care.  I enjoyed the movie and was delighted to encounter a perspective that challenged my long-held belief that ‘70s Elvis was merely an overweight, drugged-out squanderer of his immense talent.  EPiC: Elvis Presley in Concert reminded me that even during his final years, Elvis Presley remained a captivating performer capable of commanding a stage like few others.  See the movie and form your own opinion.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Riptides, Death Cab for Cutie

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Death Cab for Cutie emerged from the Pacific Northwest in 1997 as the brainchild of singer-songwriter Ben Gibbard.  The band released its debut album the following year and, last month, unveiled its eleventh studio effort. I’ve been listening to the new record regularly and have come to appreciate it more with each spin.

When Death Cab first appeared, they were often grouped with the late-’90s and early-2000s indie bands that filled my CD player.  I gave their music a fair hearing, but at the time I found their music a bit too steeped in Emo sensibilities for my taste.

The new album, I Built You a Tower, is the band’s first since Gibbard’s divorce.  While the breakup is never addressed directly, feelings of heartache, loss, and emotional dislocation run through much of the record.

Nowhere is that more evident than on the standout track, “Riptides.

From the opening lines, Gibbard conveys a profound sense of sorrow and exhaustion, capturing the feeling of someone struggling to stay afloat after a life-altering upheaval.

These days I say goodbye without opening my mouth
I just stare into the distance ’til you figure it out
‘Cause I feel as invested as a border guard
Who’s seen too many people leaving to take it too hard

I’m too tired to talk, I’m too tired to end the war
And I can’t seem to hold it together anymore

Yet despite its heavy lyrical themes, the music never wallows in despair.  Gibbard wraps his emotional reflections in bright, melodic indie pop, creating a tension between sound and subject matter that gives the songs much of their power.

Elsewhere on the album, Gibbard explores heartbreak, aging, and change with a maturity that avoids both self-pity and regret.  Rather than dwelling on loss, the songs seek understanding and acceptance.  As a result, I Built You a Tower feels less like a breakup album than a thoughtful meditation on life’s transitions. It’s a fully realized work that rewards repeated listening.

Gibbard has joked that, had he known his band would achieve lasting success, he would have chosen a better name.  Ironically, it was the name itself that first caught my attention. I recognized it as the title of a song by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, who in turn borrowed it from an old pulp-fiction crime magazine.  Whatever its origins, Death Cab for Cutie has long since transcended its quirky moniker, and I Built You a Tower stands as further proof that the band still has plenty to say nearly three decades into its career.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Love Like a Man, Ten Years After

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

The British blues-rockers Ten Years After were largely unknown in the United States until the release of the Woodstock film in March 1970 and the accompanying triple album two months later.  The band’s electrifying nine-minute performance of “I’m Going Home,” driven by the lightning-fast guitar work of lead guitarist Alvin Lee, captured the imagination of American audiences and transformed the group from a cult attraction into a major concert draw.

The band quickly capitalized on that momentum with the release of its fourth studio album, Cricklewood Green, in April 1970.  While the title sounds like a pastoral English village, it was actually a tongue-in-cheek reference to some homegrown marijuana cultivated by one of the band’s roadies.  A native of the northwest London district of Cricklewood, he was known for producing particularly potent — if somewhat green — weed.

Among the album’s highlights was “Love Like a Man,” a track that stretched beyond seven minutes on the LP but was edited down to about three minutes for single release.  The single was unusual for another reason as well: the B-side featured a live version of the same song, pressed at 33⅓ RPM rather than the standard 45 RPM for a seven-inch single.

“Love Like a Man” opens with one of those irresistible hooks that feels instantly familiar, as if you’ve known it for years even when hearing it for the first time.  The song settles into a deep, infectious groove that will have you head-bobbing before giving way to an extended instrumental passage.  Lee’s rapid-fire, jazz-inflected soloing takes center stage, but the performance never loses sight of the song itself.  The interplay between the rhythm section and Lee’s fluid guitar lines creates a sense of momentum that keeps the track engaging throughout its seven-minute running time.

More than fifty years later, “Love Like a Man” remains an excellent reminder of why Alvin Lee became one of the first guitar heroes of the post-Woodstock era.  While his astonishing speed often grabbed the headlines, the song reveals the qualities that made him special: a strong sense of melody, impeccable feel, and the ability to serve the song rather than simply show off.  It’s a performance that proves Lee was far more than a fast guitarist — he was a musician who could make virtuosity sound effortless and fun.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – American Music, The Blasters

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Happy 250th Independence Day!

What better way to celebrate than with some good old American music?  And by that, I mean “American Music” by the Blasters — two minutes of straight-ahead, American Graffiti-style rock ’n’ roll.

The Blasters were led by songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist Dave Alvin, along with his brother Phil.  Dave would later spend time with X and the Knitters, but the Blasters remained his most enduring musical vehicle.

Their debut album, also titled American Music, was released in 1980 on the independent Rollin’ Rock label.  It was a master class in American roots music, blending rockabilly, blues, country, jazz, swing, R&B, and early rock ’n’ roll into a sound that felt both timeless and fresh.  Think of it as the next link in a chain stretching from Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry to Creedence Clearwater Revival.  The album included the version of “American Music” featured here.  (It was recorded for their critically acclaimed, self-titled, second album.)

So fire up the grill, grab a hot dog, an ice cream cone, and a few sparklers, and celebrate America’s 250th birthday with “American Music,” a song that captures the spirit of the day as perfectly as its title.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Hitsville UK, The Clash; You Can’t Hurry Love, The Supremes

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

In 1980, the Clash released their highly ambitious triple album, Sandinista!.  The second single from the album was “Hitsville UK,” a duet between lead guitarist Mick Jones and his then-girlfriend, Ellen Foley, who was best known for her performance with Meat Loaf on the Bat Out of Hell classic “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.”

“Hitsville UK” is a nod to Motown — whose famous slogan was “Hitsville U.S.A.” — in more ways than just its title.  Lyrically, the song compares the late-’70s and early-’80s British independent music scene to Motown’s early days — a DIY culture built on creativity and determination rather than deference to major record labels that too often exploited the artists they signed.

No slimy deals, with smarmy eels – in hitsville U.K.
Lets shake’n say, we’ll operate – in hitsville U.K.
The mutants, creeps and musclemen,
Are shaking like a leaf,
It blows a hole in the radio,
When it hasnt sounded good all week,
A mike’n boom, in your living room – in hitsville U.K.
No consumer trials, or A.O.R., in hitsville U.K.,
Now the boys and girls are not alone,
Now the hitsville’s hit U.K.

The tribute extends beyond the lyrics. Musically, “Hitsville UK” borrows heavily from the Motown sound, particularly the Supremes’ 1966 hit “You Can’t Hurry Love.”

The song opens with a Morse-code-like walking bass line that bears a striking resemblance to the one driving “You Can’t Hurry Love.”  Both songs employ the classic four-on-the-floor snare pattern, accented by swinging eighth notes that lock tightly with the bass groove.  And then there’s the tambourine.  Motown productions were famous for their prominent use of tambourine, and “You Can’t Hurry Love” is a prime example.  “Hitsville UK” mirrors that approach, using a bright, crisp tambourine to emphasize the upbeat and add propulsion to the rhythm.

The Clash weren’t the only British band to draw inspiration from Motown.  In 1982, the Jam scored a hit with “A Town Called Malice,” another song that successfully adapted Motown’s driving rhythms and melodic sensibilities to a distinctly British setting.

What makes “Hitsville UK” particularly effective, however, is that the Clash didn’t borrow the Motown sound simply as an exercise in nostalgia.  They used it to reinforce the song’s message.  Just as Motown had once created opportunities for young artists outside the established music industry, the burgeoning UK indie scene was carving out its own path.  By wrapping that message in a musical style inspired by Motown’s golden era, the Clash created a song that celebrates both the sound and the spirit of musical independence.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Kodachrome, Paul Simon; Us and Them, Pink Floyd; Stir It Up, The Wailers

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Congratulations to the New York Knickerbockers for winning the 2026 NBA Championship.  Much has been made of the Knicks’ 53-year title drought.  Their last championship came on May 10, 1973, when they defeated the Los Angeles Lakers four games to one, winning four straight after dropping the opening game in Los Angeles.

To appreciate just how much time passed between championships, let’s take a trip in the Way-Back Machine and revisit some of the terrific music we were listening to in the spring of 1973.

A logical place to start is There Goes Rhymin’ Simon, since Paul Simon is the quintessential New Yorker — even if he’s more of a Yankees fan than a Knicks fan. Released on May 5, 1973, the album earned a five-star rating in the first Rolling Stone Record Guide and was nominated for Album of the Year at the 1974 Grammy Awards.

The album opens with “Kodachrome,” which was released as a single and climbed to No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100.

More than fifty years later, “Kodachrome” remains one of the great summer songs, buoyed by an infectious melody, sunny harmonies, and a soaring chorus:

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
Give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world’s a sunny day, oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama, don’t take my Kodachrome away

If Paul Simon provided the soundtrack for a sunny afternoon, Pink Floyd supplied the soundtrack for late-night contemplation.  The Dark Side of the Moon was released on March 1, 1973, and has since become one of the most successful albums in history.  It has sold more than 45 million copies worldwide and spent an astonishing 996 weeks on the Billboard album chart.  Like There Goes Rhymin’ Simon, it earned a five-star rating in the first Rolling Stone Record Guide and was later included in MOJO’s The Greatest Albums of All Time.

While “Money” remains the album’s signature hit, I’m choosing “Us and Them” for today’s post.  Perhaps that’s my saxophone player bias. 

Originally composed by Richard Wright for Michelangelo Antonioni’s film Zabriskie Point, the music was ultimately rejected for the soundtrack.  Repurposed for The Dark Side of the Moon, it became one of the album’s emotional centerpieces, pairing Wright’s haunting melody with Roger Waters’ meditation on conflict, division, and human indifference.

Another landmark release from the spring of 1973 was Catch a Fire, issued by The Wailers on April 13.  Like Dark Side of the Moon, it earned a place in MOJO’s The Greatest Albums of All Time.  For many rock fans, Catch a Fire served as an introduction to reggae music, bringing the sounds of Jamaica to a much wider audience.

The album was memorable even before listeners dropped the needle.  Early pressings came packaged in an ingenious album-sized Zippo lighter sleeve, complete with a hinged top.  It was an expensive production choice, but one that perfectly matched the music’s originality. (I still have one in my collection.)

Among the album’s highlights is “Stir It Up,” a song Bob Marley had originally recorded and released as a single in Jamaica in 1967 before revisiting it for Catch a Fire.

Smooth, sensual, and effortlessly melodic, it’s the musical equivalent of a warm Caribbean evening.

So, congratulations to the Knicks on ending one of the longest championship droughts in professional sports.  And thanks for providing an excuse to revisit some of the remarkable music that filled the airwaves the last time New York stood atop the basketball world.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Moment of Truth, Earth, Wind & Fire

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Last Sunday, HBO premiered a new documentary, Earth, Wind & Fire (To Be Celestial vs. That’s the Weight of the World), directed and produced by Questlove.  The excellent film is as much a biography of Earth, Wind & Fire founder and guiding force Maurice White as it is the story of the band itself.

Of course, most of us know the group’s greatest hits: “Shining Star,” “Serpentine Fire,” “Fantasy,” “Reasons,” their spirited Beatles cover “Got to Get You Into My Life,” and the wedding-reception staple “September.”  But this is the SotW, where we prefer to dig a little deeper.  For this outing, let’s revisit “Moment of Truth,” a superb track from the band’s 1971 self-titled debut album on Warner Bros. Records.

Musically, the song is a perfect illustration of White’s vision for pushing soul and funk into new territory.  The influences are easy to spot — James Brown’s relentless groove, Sly & the Family Stone’s energy and punchy horns, and the jazz-funk experimentation of Miles Davis’s Bitches Brew era.  The result is raw, tense, gritty, street-level funk that crackles with urgency.

Lyrically, “Moment of Truth” is a socially conscious call for accountability, chastising those who ignore society’s problems while pursuing cheap thrills and material distractions.

“We’re goin’ ’round / Tryin’ to get higher / Better come down / There’s gonna be a fire.”

“The moment of truth is near, oh-yeah / And my body trembles with fear / Just like you, I’m a guilty one / Thinkin’ ’bout nothin’, but havin’ me some fun.”

It’s a warning as relevant today as it was more than five decades ago.

Earth, Wind & Fire received little commercial recognition for their first two albums on Warner Bros.  It wasn’t until White relocated from Chicago to Los Angeles, revamped the lineup, and signed with Columbia Records that he fully realized both his musical vision and his commercial ambitions.  The extraordinary success that followed would make Earth, Wind & Fire one of the defining acts of the 1970s.

Questlove’s documentary tells that story with insight, affection, and remarkable depth. Check it out — you’ll come away with a renewed appreciation for Maurice White’s genius and the band’s remarkable rise to stardom.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Duvateen. Afghan Whigs

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

Afghan Whigs, led by singer-songwriter Greg Dulli, have released a new single, “Duvateen,” their second new song of the year.

Formed in Cincinnati in 1986, Afghan Whigs carved out a singular niche in alternative rock, fusing the grit of indie rock with the emotional intensity of classic soul and R&B.  Dulli’s brooding songs and restless ambition helped the band stand apart from their grunge-era contemporaries and earned them a devoted following that has endured for decades.

“Duvateen” opens with a sparse piano figure and a steady drumbeat.  Layers of synthesizer gradually wash over the arrangement, creating an ominous atmosphere as the song builds toward its soaring chorus and ultimately its dramatic climax.

According to the press release, “The title of the song is a nod to the actual light-manipulating material, which here serves as a symbol for mortality, the dark abyss always framing the background of our lives.”

The 61-year-old Dulli elaborates:

“When I finished ‘Duvateen,’ it felt like my life passing before my eyes. The references to the teacher chasing me down the hall reminded me of my childhood. Digging a hole was an obvious allusion to a grave. I’m at a precipice in life where I can look behind and clearly see the forest of my youth, but I can also see the path to the other side. And it’s going to inform what I do for the rest of my days.”

At this stage of my own life, that’s a sentiment I understand all too well.

Enjoy… until next week.

Song of the Week – Miss O’Dell, George Harrison & Pisces Apple Lady, Leon Russell

by

Ignored             Obscured              Restored

One of the most unlikely muses for rock musicians was an American woman named Chris O’Dell.  Though she lacked relevant experience, she was hired by Beatles insider Derek Taylor — whom she had met in L.A. — to move to London and work at Apple Corps.  She compensated for her lack of experience with grit, determination, and an unwillingness to take “no” for an answer.

Using those qualities, she made herself an invaluable part of the Beatles’ organization and later witnessed some of its most famous moments.  She was invited to sing on the closing chorus of “Hey Jude” and was on the rooftop at 3 Savile Row when the Beatles gave their final public performance on January 30, 1969.  And those are just two highlights from a remarkable résumé.

But O’Dell achieved a different kind of immortality when George Harrison wrote and recorded “Miss O’Dell,” released as the B-side to the 1973 single “Give Me Love (Give Me Peace on Earth).”

Harrison was inspired to write the song after O’Dell arrived late for a meeting at his Malibu home in 1971.  The song opens with a reference to the famine in Bangladesh, a cause that deeply affected Harrison, before taking a sharply humorous turn.  He sings about California smog, waves crashing toward his porch, and the hangers-on of the L.A. scene — hipsters carrying drugs while trying to gain access to a Beatle.  Why isn’t Miss O’Dell there to rescue him?

(Extra-credit trivia: the phone number “Garston 6922” that Harrison mutters at the end of the song was Paul McCartney’s childhood phone number in Liverpool.)

The song’s loose, playful spirit is heightened by the three moments where Harrison breaks into laughter after flubbing lines in the verses — mistakes he chose to leave in the finished recording.  The backing track is equally relaxed, featuring Harrison on acoustic guitar and harmonica, with Klaus Voormann on bass and Jim Keltner on drums.

But “Miss O’Dell” was not the only song inspired by Chris O’Dell.  Leon Russell wrote “Pisces Apple Lady” while the two were falling in love during a passionate four-month affair.  O’Dell was a Pisces and, of course, closely associated with Apple Records.

O’Dell had originally met Russell when she recommended him as a substitute for Nicky Hopkins on sessions for Jackie Lomax, who was recording for Apple.  Russell and O’Dell connected immediately.

O’Dell later recalled that she first realized “Pisces Apple Lady” was about her while sitting in a studio control room with Eric Clapton during a playback of the track.

And those two songs do not complete O’Dell’s musical legacy as a muse.  Russell would later write a second song about her as well: “Hummingbird.”

Enjoy… until next week.