Among the litany of puns fostered by auctioneer Brian Feldman during Sunday’s NL Tout Wars auction, came the inevitable “Panik Attack” that follows Giants second sacker Joe Panik.
Never satisfied with just one pun, my brain went after a trade possibility to the Tigers, meaning the results would be “Panik in Detroit.”
So, now that I am safely back home in Berkeley, we can honor Bowie, Panik, and a great Tout weekend.
A splendid time was indeed guaranteed for all. Swear.
It is Tout Wars Week, as Peter so aptly documented, meaning the core Remnants will be in Manhattan through the weekend, playing, drafting, drinking, eating, smoking and goofing off together (though technically, Spring will attack us all sometime on Saturday, leaving the Winter of 2015 behind).
It is great, so in honor of this, here is my favorite New York band (ok, so they are from Jersey), with a tune I hope Steve, who is riff oriented, likes.
This song is an instrumental, just based upon one very simple arpeggio. And, it builds and takes off like fire to become this oddly dissonant and yet beautiful tour de force number.
BTW, all the Tout activities are open to the public. Go to ToutWars.com for the itinerary and details.
Another Steve Gardner fave, mostly based upon the wonderful tone invoked by Mike Campbell as the Heartbreakers axe-man channels Chuck Berry.
I was a huge fan of this band (seen them ten times) based upon fine lyrics (by Petty) and such a tight and clean sound of the band. In this cut, listen to Stan Lynch and his stellar drumming, in particular, though again not at the expense of Campbell’s fantastic guitar sound.
Damn the Torpedoes was the bands third album, BTW, and in my view, that is the one that seals the deal for a new and promising band. In this instance, the deal was closed with profit and great riffs for all.
I am such a sucker for a killer pop tune, and this song is certainly one of those.
Delivered among the great waves of great numbers from the the Punk and New Wave bands across the pond, Why Sugar fits right in with a lot of other gorgeous songs/bands–Breathless (The Motors), and Starry Eyes (The Records) also come to mind–with vocals and guitar riffs and bouncing pianos coupled with deep bluesy growling vocals.
I bought No Dice’s album based upon the strength of No Sugar, but the rest of the disc didn’t hold up so well for me.
I guess that makes the band fall under the aegis of one-hit wonders, which is ok with me, as the one hit was a killer.
See for yourself (it is even better with headphones on).
No, no, not that Steve.
Steve–as in Gardner–and I were discussing our favorite guitar solos/riffs/songs during a particularly fun breakfast or ride to a spring training game or something.
My list is usually five songs, plus a couple that bounce around the top five, and that is that.
Steve tried to think of some of his faves, but drew a blank; however, that evening, my esteemed bud sent me a list of 25 or so tunes that fit his top axe numbers.
So, I thought I would load some of them from time-to-time, starting from this song by the Outlaws, Green Grass and High Tides.
The reason this song grabbed me from Steve’s list is that I remember the first time I heard it, on the Marin county low wattage alternative station, riding around in an old BMW 2002, I suppose. At the time, the song caught my attention: I went out and bought the vinyl that very afternoon.
The Outlaws were certainly a cranking guitar-based band in much the same vein as Lynyrd Skynyrd, save one was more rock-blues based, while the other more rock-country based (not strange that the Skynyrd made Steve’s list, too).
But, especially since Peter was noting that he was into some rockabilly–not that this is rockabilly, as the guitars are on steroids–let’s go with this!
Just a week and all the Remnants will be in New York for Tout Wars, world! Come by the drafts at City Crab in Manhattan and say hi!
It is the League of Alternative Baseball Reality (LABR) weekend in Phoenix, and that means time with my bestest industry friends.
Later today I will see fellow Remnant Steve Moyer, but for the most part this week I have been traipsing from ballpark-to-ballpark with my running buddy Steve Gardner.
Steve and I always have so much to talk about: baseball, food, and especially music.
As we ate breakfast the other morning, we were talking about country and alt-country, and I remembered this anecdote from my youth.
When I was eight or so–so this is 1960-61–and was a cub scout, our little pack got tickets to the local NBC affiliate’s Saturday afternoon variety show. Remember that at that time there were just three TV networks, and nothing like cable. In fact I am not sure if PBS had a presence as of yet.
I remember the show was hosted by the news anchor, who also hosted the kids Saturday morning/weekday afternoon kids cartoon show, along with that variety thing (which was that period’s time of local cable access filler).
Well, when I was in the audience, the musical guest was Buck Owens, and he sang his new hit, Tiger by the Tail.
It was just Buck, though he surely had a shiny suit and flashy guitar (at least to an eight-year old), so no Buckaroos. And, I am pretty sure Buck had an electric (not as cool as the metalflake vintage Tele being played below) but was not plugged into anything.
Furthermore, this was my first exposure to lip syncing, in its most rudimentary form.
On the floor, in one corner of the little studio, was a little plug-in Admiral, much like the phonograph we had at home, and someone dropped the .45 single on the turntable at the right time, dropped the tone arm, turned up the volume, and the race was on (ok, George Jones reference) so to speak.
Funny how we remember. Before Buck was big stuff, for sure.
Photos, Tout Songs, Obituaries, Name That Tune? OK, enough.
Let’s get back to what we really do best: uncover/present killer songs, past, present, and even some future.
I know there are those who dismiss Pearl Jam, but I think such critics are elitists.
Pearl Jam cranks, and probably wear the tough mantle–especially with the death of Kurt Cobain and demise of Nirvana–as the band from the grunge/Seattle environ.
There are a bunch of other great bands that did evolve from that scene (I am at least thinking Soundgarden) but when push comes to shove, Pearl Jam kick it, song-wise, songwriting-wise, and musicianship-wise.
I present, then, the following, among my favorite from the band’s catalog.
It does seem Eddie Vedder’s voice is not quite so powerful as it was 20 years ago, but the rest of the band certainly smokes. And, Mike McCready again shows that when push comes to shove, a great guitar player cranking through a Marshall stack via a Telecaster is probably the best sounding “axe” confluence there is.
So Leonard Nimoy was not so much rock’n’roll, but he did release eight (yes, eight) albums.
Who knew? Who even heard?
Of course, we all remember William Shatner’s kitchy cover of Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.
But, the pair also cut a disc together, as you can see. 
Still, there is no question of the influence of Star Trek and its characters on us boomers, and the cottage industry it spawned (I watched Next Generation and Voyager in addition to the original series).
There was also some music on the actual original Star Trek show, most of which was awful.
In honor of the life of the esteemed cultural icon, Spock, here is part of what was perhaps the worst episode, with some of the worst music. I do remember watching this when I was 16, and being half embarrassed, while half laughing my ass off.
But, Nimoy was indeed a mensch, as witnessed by his final message/Tweet, earlier in the week: “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.”
Irrespective, Live long and prosper, Nimoy. You were a good egg.
Cannot help it: after looking at those great asparagus graphics that accompanied The Obituaries, I had to post this great Yo La Tengo song from a great album (New Wave Hotdog/President Yo La Tengo).
BTW, as kid I hated the stuff, which my mother furiously over-boiled (did no one in 50’s and 60’s understand grilling and steaming?), thus causing the house to stink. She made the same miscue with Brussels Sprouts, btw, which I now like (grilled or roasted) a lot as well.
Viva les vegetables!
OK, so it ain’t that scary, it’s fun. And, maybe you expected the original from Bobby Boris Pickett, but this song was a staple of the Beach Boys live set for a while. Every time I saw them, they played it.
Couple of things I noticed, though:
Brian plays the bass with his thumb, rather than all his fingers or a pick.
Never realized Carl played a Rickenbacker sometimes. I always saw them all play white Fenders.
Mike Love seemed goofy back then, but the truth is he was fucked up crazy all the time. He just realized his potential in the interim. I mean, I get Brian has had his issues, and well, Dennis and Carl were sort of sad stories. But, that troika was raised by the equally fucked up Murray Wilson.
Love was their cousin. He is a crazy right wing Ted Nugent-like nutcase. Being Dracula pushes him just that much closer to sane.
