The band Hot Chocolate had a handful of hits in the US over a short period in the 70s. But they had more than a score of hits in the UK over 30 years, which has to be of interest to those who track popularity. Or unpopularity.
Hot Chocolate’s singer, Errol Brown, died yesterday.
But I didn’t really know the story. The Guardian has a bit of a story today about Brown and the band, and why they meant so much to England.
I want to leave this post with the song that got Hot Chocolate signed by the Beatles to Apple Records, which I learned about today. It’s a wacky Carribean version of Give Peace a Chance that John found out about, and which led him to sign the band. Crazy.
This post scrapes the surface of Hot Chocolate and Errol Brown. If you hear anything you like, dig deeper.
Since I was able to retire first of this year, I have been playing a lot of golf, upwards of 3-4 times a week, either doing nine, 18, or just hitting the range and putting green for a spell in the lovely spring sun.
It is funny, since I played a lot between the ages of 12-21, but then quit after an argument within the group I was playing. The issue never involved me personally, but I was disgusted that the game I thought we played for fun would erupt into near violence.
Well, as an older (and theoretically) wiser human, I started playing again, looking for some exercise, some time outside, and also something I could work on and hopefully improve (plus per our Remnants Friend, Jeff Erickson, of Rotowire, I can play with other friends Jason Grey and Joe Sheehan this November when we all converge upon the AFL).
So, I have been trying to muster all my patience and Zen in playing this extremely aggravating and at the same time satisfying game where we chase a little white ball around 6000 yards for five hours, or so.
It is tough. You have to have an easy swing, and keep your eye on the ball, which is no small trick when the sphere is down there, dormant, sneering, begging you to knock the shit out of it.
Anyway, there are no courses near where I live save a country club that costs a zillion dollars to join, so I have about a 20-30 minute drive, irrespective.
As a result, I seem to really enjoy playing CD’s in the car that I really love, and when I say love, I mean the entire album, start to finish.
For some reason this fine May day, I feel compelled to share my favorite cut from Pink Floyd’s Animals disc, which just spaces on, with some killer David Gilmour riffs and a nice little philosophical breakdown (which includes a quasi digitized recital of The 23rd Psalm) . Also, the Floyd are another band that gets little attention here at the Remnants, it seems, and that is not right, for they were (I saw them twice) a terrific collective.
The reason Animals made it to my fave list for the band is though I do think it is a really fun and listenable disc, shortly after the vinyl was released I had my first trip to Europe. I spent a few days in London with my Aunt and Grandmother, and then headed off to the continent for some adventures (note this was the same trip where I first heard the Pistols, as the punk movement was just taking off).
Anyway, I spent three weeks messing around in France and Holland and the BeneLux countries, and was returning back to London to spend my final 10 days with my family and really check out London. I took a night boat from Hook von Holland, and landed back in England in the early morning, and we then took the train into town proper.
I was travelling with some kids (I was 25 then, and they were about my age): a couple of Americans, a Dutch girl, and a boy from Sweden.
As we approached the city, the Swedish kid calls out, “Annimaaalls.” We looked perplexed, and he repeats, “Annimaaalls,” and points out the window, and he is pointing at the giant power plant/building/whatever it is that is on the album cover with the four giant smokestacks pictured above.
Funny the things we remember, and forget, but that memory is clear beyond belief. And, Sheep is really a great cut, and particularly good for getting the golf Zen.
Someone posted the entire Rolling Thunder Bootleg Volume 5, which essentially covers what was a normal Rolling Thunder Review gig by Dylan and his Renaldo and Clara band in 1975.
The Rolling Thunder Band, who toured between October of that year and May of 1976, totally cranked it out, featuring the likes of Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Joan Baez, Steven Soles, Roger McGuinn, and my faves, T-Bone Burnett and Mick Ronson.
This version of It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry not only completely deconstructs the original studio version, but it just fucking smokes.
The interplay between Burnett and Ronson, along with great growling bass of Rob Stoner, makes this my favorite Dylan period.
And, this cut is my favorite on the disc and of the set. In fact, this might be my all time favorite live song recording, with my all time favorite guitar solos.
Check out the first Ronson solo, during which he plays the same Chuck Berry lick 16 times before blasting into some free-form Chuck-land. Then, to make sure we get it, he closes the song out with another totally killer blast that even Keef would smile about.
Swear to God: fire comes out of the speakers (or is it my head?) every time I play this.
Please note, that this link posts the entire 22-song box set, and though it is all terrific, #16 is It Takes a Lot to Laugh on the playlist. Sorry for the inconvenience, but you will see it is more than worth it!
Steve’s Sonics posting brought back the other, not very good Wailers, who I guess were known as “The Fabulous Wailers” because I guess we were supposed to think they were terrific musicians or something.
Aside from the fact that these guys could not hold a candle to Marley et al (I doubt they could execute a decent cover of a Marley tune, either), neither of the bands hit’s–Tall Cool One and It’s You Alone–have stood much of a test of time, although I did not realize just how awful both songs were till Steve’s post tripped the wires and I went in search of YouTube.
To prove the point, here are the Wailers a few years back “performing” It’s You Alone and it only makes me think of one thing.
And, that thing is when I started gigging regularly in bands, I made my friends and loved ones promise me that if I ever looked or acted like any of these guys in these Wailers, to either shoot me in the head, or tell me to stop: whichever came first.
What’s with the barefoot sax player, and how about the guy standing stage right? Yeah, standing. Value added. And the “featured guy” makes Bill Murray’s lounge singer act really seem seriously good, and not just funny ironic.
Their debut – Here Are The Sonics – came from Amazon yesterday. It’s pretty great.
I was inspired by news of their brand new album that’s getting some notice. Apparently, they’re still kicking ass in their 70s.
The cover (many covers on this album) of Roll Over Beethoven kind of sums up my favorite rock ‘n’ roll – a Chuck Berry base with punk chutzpah.
But this one’s my very favorite, a cover of a band called The Wailers, who have nothing to do with reggae. I found a video with pretty pictures for your viewing pleasure as well, definitely a respite from having to look at those dirty stinky Slayer guys.
If I had to sum up The Sonics in a phrase it would be “the white Little Richard.” That’s a compliment.
We’re fans of Cory Schwartz in these parts, and he posted this tune today on Facebook. A tribute to Slayer guitarist Jeff Hanneman, who died two years ago today.
I like to think Cory posted this cut because today’s Kentucky Derby winner was American Pharoah, owned by an Egyptian expat (echoing the video’s theme, or enhancing it), but untimely death is an equally appropriate trigger.
I didn’t know this song until I listened to it four or five times today, and I’m a little challenged by the question, What the fuck are they going on about. I recognize every emotion as part of the teenage kit, but the video makes me wonder about the Crusades, and their relation to the angst of the young today.
I’m not sure about the premise of this slideshow in the Guardian, that these are the album covers that should hang in an art gallery, but it is a good reminder that album covers were an important part of listening to music back in the day of albums.
The big art of an album cover was a message about the product, often a statement about intentions or aesthetic purpose. Or just a lark, but one that connected the artist with the fans.
We lost that when we moved to CDs, and while vinyl sales are up, the vinyl elpee is no longer the face of a musical artist. That image has fractured into many competing versions, each shaped and colored for its particular audience. Which is why I think looking at nice reproductions of these album covers feels so fresh.
Today’s SotW is a Northern Soul classic. When most people hear the term “Northern Soul” they assume it means American soul music that came from acts based in the northern United States instead of from Memphis or Muscle Shoals. In actuality the term refers to a style of American soul music popularized in dance clubs in Northern England. Part of the Northern Soul music culture is to avoid the popular hits in favor of obscure singles often recorded for small, local, independent labels.
Frank Wilson’s single for Motown’s Soul subsidiary in 1965 fits the bill. “Do I Love You (Yes Indeed)” was recorded just before he became one of Motown’s important producers. The story goes that only about 250 copies of a demo 45 were pressed and then later destroyed when Berry Gordy decided it wasn’t worth the effort to promote an act that was planning to focus on a production career, not to become a performing talent.
But a few copies survived, making it a very valuable disc. (One of the few copies known to exist sold in England for over £25,000 in May 2009.) Now, thanks to the magic of digital recordings and the affordable cost of free, you can hear it too!
But its rarity alone doesn’t make it valuable. It’s its quality that creates the demand. “Do I Love You” has all the trappings of a Northern Soul classic – a crisp rhythm, solid beat with evocative lyrics sung from the heart. It’s a song that’s sure to fill the dance floor.
Surprisingly, the backing music wasn’t played by the Funk Brothers – Motown’s house band. No, this song was recorded in LA using Wrecking Crew musicians – Billy Strange, Glen Campbell, Hal Blaine, Al De Lory, Carol Kaye and Tommy Tedesco.
If you’re intrigued by this backstory and would like to learn more about it, check out this long form article that was originally written to support the auction that resulted in the 2009 sale mentioned above:
Although this song languished in obscurity until the late 70s/early 80s, Wilson did enjoy a successful career as a producer and songwriter. In fact, he received a co-writing credit for his production of Brenda Holloway’s recording of “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy” which was covered by Blood, Sweat & Tears and hit #2 in 1969.
