Author Archives: Lawr Michaels

Night Music: Bob Dylan, “Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again.”

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Bob_Dylan_-_Blonde_on_BlondeBob Dylan has been mentioned all over the place on the site since we started waxing quasi poetic about what music means to us. And, Dylan’s phenomenal Blonde on Blonde made the group’s consensus Top 50.

But, I cannot remember a Dylan song actually being singled out in the same way all the other stuff works its way to the top of our collective creative urges.

Blonde on Blonde is my favorite Dylan album by a long shot, and that actually says a lot.

But, my  love for it traces back to around April, 1967, when my parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary. For that year, in honor of the occasion, my father bought my mother–and I suppose the family–a big Magnavox stereo in a big piece of mahogany furniture.

That was ok, but what it really meant was that I could lay claim to the family’s portable Admiral phonograph, which I then stashed in my bedroom.

I had pretty much stopped buying singles by that time anyway, so every night, before free-form FM worked its way to the Sacramento airwaves to which I would be stuck for a few more years before I could return to my beloved bay area for good, I would drop a stack of albums on the spindle to lull me to sleep.

The Beach Boys All Summer Long and Surfin’ USA were staples in those days, along with early Beatles and Stones. But, since albums cost a lot–$4 in those days, which was a lot–I did not purchase too many, too often. Meaning like when I first was buying 45’s, five years earlier, I would listen to both sides of everything simply because the song was there and I could.

So, every night side two of disc one, which feature I Want You, Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat, Just Like a Woman, and the clip link linked below, of Blonde on Blonde hit the changer as well.

With Al Kooper on keys, and Robbie Robertson on guitar, along with Rick Danko and Joe South among others, Blonde on Blonde was recorded both in Nashville, then New York.

And, well, spending the past few days in New York, in anticipation of Tout Wars, I thought a number of times about early Dylan while enjoying walking up and the streets, cos New York is such a great walking city. But I also thought of the man, and just what a great artist, singer, songwriter, and generally pretty good guy he has been, and is.

Further, I would like to think that his deconstruction of his own catalogue over the years has been brilliant, keeping him and his songs fresh and valid in a way the audience might not appreciated, but that I hope I do.

In fact this version of Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again is quite different from the one I fell in love with as I went to sleep in the later 60’s, but it is just as great and fun.

Love ya Bob. Always will!

http://youtu.be/_hKSEIAXzCU

 

 

 

Night Music: Ian Dury & the Blockheads (with Mick Jones): “Sweet Gene Vincent”

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220px-Gene_VincentAll this Wreckless Eric brouhaha is wonderful.

I so loved the punk movement. I was 25, and actually in London the week of the Stiffs Live. I remember getting on the Underground to go back to my Grandmother’s in Finchley and the punks who had been at the shows that featured Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Wreckless Eric, Larry Wallis, and Ian Dury and the Blockheads were on the same train.

Blue Mohawks-crap, any Mohawk on a white kid in the fall of 1977–and pierced tongues and such were still a little outrageous in the states where ELO and ABBA ruled. In fact Roxy Music, 801, The Tubes, and Queen were about as far as I could push the envelope before that fateful trip to London to visit my Granny and cousins for the first time on their turf.

What a great time I had! I remember sleeping on a boat hostile in Amsterdam with a bunch of other kids, and getting up in the morning to eat some yogurt and fruit and cheese (remember, I am in Holland) with Marshall Tucker’s “Can’t You See” blasting in the dining area.

As previously noted, that was the first time I heard the Sex Pistols:  in the tub in my Granny’s home, listening to my Aunt Hedda’s tinny transistor radio, tuned to John Peel and Top of the Pops. “Anarchy in the UK” blasted out and life would never be the same for me.

I came home hungry, riding the new wave as it broke here, a pierced (yep, did my ear the first time right after I got back), tattooed (long story, but that was actually a couple of years earlier) ever the long-hair who still fit right into his Berkeley community.

I saw as many of the English and New York bands as they arrived as I could, and being near San Francisco, that was pretty easy to do, and it was cheap, too. $3.50 or $4.00 to see three bands at a great venue.

Anyway, Gene commenting on (I’d go the) Whole Wide World, that “punk opened things up” suggesting Eric would not have happened in 1972 is so dead on. But, with the Pistols and Malcolm McLaren and the Clash, all bets were off.

Never prior to John Lydon did any band ever seem to consider that there was the radical difference between singing harmoniously and being an effective vocalist had suddenly fallen away. In fact, I remember arguing similarly with my life-long friend Karen Clayton at the time about Elvis Costello. Karen called Elvis a lousy vocalist, and I noted that maybe he was a lousy elocutionist, but he was a great lyricist and voclalist.

Enter Ian Dury, and Sex and Drugs and Rock’n’Roll, a really wonderful song: funny, self deprecating, and yet brutally honest.

But, because Sex and Drugs… seemed more like a gimmick song, it was hard to take much else by the Blockheads seriously. In fact it was hard to take Sex and Drugs… seriously.

Too bad, because they were a pretty tight band, and if you know the song Sweet Gene Vincent, you know this to be true. Not just a great song that links the same attitude of Little Richard and Chuck Berry to that of the punks, the song moves to that place using Vincent–Mr. Be-Bop-A-Lula and maybe THE original punk–as a vehicle.

This version of the song is from the The Concert for Kampuchia, and joining in the Blockheads is the Clash’s Mick Jones, by the way. And, let me tell you, we are far from done with the subject.

 

Night Music: Wreckless Eric, “(I’d go the) Whole Wide World”

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To me, there are few things better than hearing a song you had not heard for a long time and think, “man, I remember this tune and it is great. I am so glad I heard it out of nowhere.”

Well, this morning Wreckless Eric, from 1978 as Punk was really cranking it up, came blasting out of the Laptop-Stereo-Whatever this configuration is. I heard a lot of  this song for a while around that time, but not since till KTKE in Truckee played it today, and bingo.

Just a wonderful cut!

 

 

Night Music: Jane’s Addiction, “Obvious”

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I am not sure what even prompted me to buy Jane’s Addiction’s second album, Ritual de lo Habitual.

Maybe because they had sort of been hyped, I bought the disc to prove to myself that they were crap. That is because the one song that got airplay–Been Caught Stealing–was but nothing special at the time.

Maybe it was because the sexually ambiguous cover is so intriguing. Maybe, after finding myself single after 12 years of marriage where I never really felt like myself I just wanted to explore and listen to shit that was not just Bruce Springsteen (not knocking the Boss, just wanted some new direction) and ugh, not having my family play Journey’s Escape and 90125 endlessly. Both of which I hated, but my newly adolescent step sons loved.

But, somehow when I went to the record store, Ritual found its way into the bag.

I did not listen to the disc right away, and as my life had changed, one of the other things I had started doing back in the early 90’s was running.

So, one Sunday, when I had completed a 10K and gotten back home, I decided to soak in the tub, and with a mineral water, a doob, and some candles lit (how trippy) I put the disc on the player and slid into the hot water.

I am not sure I knew at the time just how appropriate the candles and joint were since I didn’t know the Jane’s were really a neo-psychedelic band, but I don’t think I could have put together a better confluence of items than I did.

The album just killed me right away, and it even found its way onto a cassette (the old days, and I still had a Walkman) with Joe Satriani’s Surfing With the Alien on the flip that I used for downhill skiing music for a couple of years.

Back then I was also just starting to play guitar seriously, and I found the basically simple E-A-D-E progressions of the Jane’s easy to figure out, and extra easy to practice to (Cheap Trick is pretty good for this too).

Anyway, Three Days from the album hopped out of my shuffle the other day, and though I love that song (it really belongs somewhere with Steve’s best songs over seven minutes), I chose something a little shorter, but no less great.

That song is Obvious. Note that I did search for a live version and though there are a few out there on You Tube, the sound quality for all of them was stretched. Too much bass, too many highs, or something, but the mix on the original studio piece I originally fell in love with worked the best.  BTW, Been Caught Stealing has proved to be my least favorite song on the disc.

So, here it is!

 

Steveslist: My Top Five Favorite Live Songs

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In honor of my mate Steve, who is in Phoenix as I write, getting ready to draft in the NL LABR auction Sunday, I conjured this list. For, tis Steve who started this little subset off.

I am listing my very five favorite live tunes. I am sure we all have favorites, and I tried to find the vinyl/CD version of each, which is where I first found them. The odd song out is Richard Thompson’s Shoot Out the Lights, from the album of the same name, and which is a great album cut, and even better live one.

Anyway, here we go, starting with my all-time favorite live Hendrix song, which is also my favorite Hendrix song period. Recorded with Band of Gypsys (featuring Buddy Miles on drums and Billy Cox on bass) who recorded one album–a live one–performed and recorded December 31, 1970, at the Fillmore East.

The entire album is great, but Hendrix’ playing on Message of Love–his ridiculous mixing of rock and blues and jazz chords and progressions–along with playing that sounds so casual and relaxed, and yet is so visceral with every note just perfect.

Tell me if you have ever heard a more beautiful and riveting live guitar performance, and I will be happy to listen.

Going next to the Fillmore West, Combination of the Two  kicks off Big Brother and the Holding Company’s phenomenal Cheap Thrills album. Killer James Gurley guitar, great percussion, and of course the great Janis Joplin. This song is different for a rocker, but it is so very right.

Maybe the best duel lead guitars trading licks on any song ever. Dickie Betts and Duane Allman cutting notes with razor blades, along with Berry Oakley bass that digs down into the earth’s magma. That song would be One Way Out.

This was tough, because I had to try and choose from Sweet Jane and Rock and Roll from Reed’s great Rock’n’Roll Animal album, and I guess just because the latter cranks through so perfectly–to me anyway–I picked it.

If you have never seen Richard Thompson play guitar live, you are missing out one of the great performers and players on earth. One of the wittiest songwriters, too. I have seen Thompson live nine times, and he always plays this song, sometimes with guests (I have seen him play it twice with Henry Kaiser). My fave part is his playing with his tuners with his fret hand, while crunching royal with his pick hand.

 

 

Night Music: Ben Harper, “Get It Like You Like It”

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Once again, I found myself listening to KTKE the other day when this Ben Harper song came on. Only, I did not realize it was Ben Harper, sounding to me like some kind of cross between Prince’s Raspberry Beret and anything out of the Band’s catalog.

Harper is so interesting.

Clearly, he is a killer guitar player, and has so many influences that drive his music which I think is the result of exploration of whatever groove he is feeling as anything. And, I guess that is a good thing.

 

 

Night Music Goes to the Movies: Gene Krupa & Barbara Stanwyck, “Boogie”

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This month my favorite TV network, TCM, is having their annual “31 Days of Oscar” leading up to the actual awards ceremony (to which I am fairly indifferent). During that span every film TCM shows has at least been nominated for an Oscar, and most have won at least one.

TCM is a treasure trove of cinematic brilliance, with the bulk of their offerings focusing on the heyday of the studio system in the 30’s and 40’s.

One of the standards in those movies was to toss in a song. Which is why in the middle of a dark and brilliant Noir film, like The Big Sleep, we see Lauren Bacall singing at a speakeasy operated by gangster Eddie Mars (he is to this film, sort of what Jackie Treehorn was to Lebowski).

So, this morning I was working with TCM on in the background when Howard Hawks’ (who also made The Big Sleep, and my favorite Screwball Comedy, Bringing Up Baby) Ball of Fire came on.

Written by Charles Brackett and Billy Wilder, the film is a great Screwball Comedy that deconstructs Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, placing the setting in Manhattan in the early 40’s, with Stanwyck playing the moll Sugarpuss O’Shea to Gary Cooper’s English professor Bertram Potts (Cooper is one of eight sheltered eggheads working on an encyclopedia).

A few other things:

  • Every great character actor and cartoon voice from that time are among the professors, so if you watch, you will suddenly hear Fractured Fairy Tales etc. in the back of your head.
  • This is the last script that Wilder and Brackett wrote before Wilder went on to his fantastic career as a director (Stalag 17, Some Like it Hot, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity are just a few).
  • One thing that stuns me about Wilder is that English was his second language, yet his writing in our language is so sharp. And, if you watch Ball of Fire you will get an idea of just that. This movie is as funny and witty as anything ever put on the big screen.
  • One other thing I love about Wilder is the apocryphal tale of when he premiered Sunset Boulevard for a cluster of Hollywood moguls, after the film Samuel Goldwyn got up and chastised Wilder for making such a dark portrayal of the industry that made him rich and famous. What was Wilder’s response to the most powerful man in his industry, in front of their peers? “Fuck you.”

Back to the movie, as part of the set-up, Cooper/Potts takes to the streets fearing his grasp of slang is already outdated, and happens upon O’Shea at a night club (he also goes to a ball game and gets some good slang there).

O’Shea is the singer at the club, and though her singing and the song are marginal, Gene Krupa and his big band are just deadly. So is the piano player and the guy who does the sax solo. Funny too, cos playing guitar was just a minor rhythm instrument, as you can see in most films of this ilk.

Anyway, Canned Heat et al all owe their boogie chops to this great scene.

And, just for fun, after the big number, Krupa and Stanwyck reprise the song with Krupa playing matchsticks instead of drumsticks.

 

 

Movie Songs

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A while back, when I wrote about Garland Jeffreys and his great song, Wild in the Streets, I made mention of Jeffreys’ other killer song from his Ghost Writer album (look below to see which one).

Well, that got me to thinking about the best songs written about the movies–note, not from–so I started a list. I have to think there are more, but, well, everything has to start somewhere.

By the way, tunes like Billy Joel’s (ugh) We Didn’t Start the Fire, or The New Radicals You Get What You Give don’t count. They just name people in a sort of rhyme, dropping names left and right. None has anything to do with loving film.

My Baby Loves the Western Movies (The Olympics): Released in 1958, kind of a gimmick song as were several of the tunes by the Olympics, but, hey, funky gun shot sounds, and pretty good doo wop. I confess: I bought the 45 (record, not gun).

Candle in the Wind (Elton John): Actually about Marilyn Monroe, unlike the title track which has Wizard of Oz allusions, but is not really about the movies at all. And, ok, I will take a sentimentality hit for picking an Elton song, although Rocket Man, Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting, and Burn Down the Mission are great tunes. Candle is really a pretty sweet homage.

Celluloid Heroes (The Kinks): Maybe the most sentimental pop song about film, but no one delivers such sweetness like Ray Davies. Period. I just love this song. I saw the band tour behind this album at Winterland (with Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks opening) and they were just stupendous. It is my fave on this list.

35 MM Dreams (Garland Jeffreys):  The song that started this mess, and like Celluloid Heroes, just a great song. Sweet, sentimental, but never tawdry, like the Kinks tune.

James Dean (Eagles): This song rocks, whether you like the Eagles or not. I view the Eagles kind of like Elton John: no question talented, and some of their songs I like, but, well, we all have our lines. James Dean is a solid song, though I still think Dean remains a vastly overrated actor, having played basically the same character in the three films in which he starred. Had he lived, well, I doubt he would have remained iconic.

The Ballad of Dwight Fry (Alice Cooper): From Love it to Death, this is about a guy who goes mad watching late night movies. Dwight Fry is the character actor who plays the attorney bringing documents to the Count (Bella Lugosi) early in the film, and then becomes the vampire’s gofer. Fry is the guy walking around saying “yes master” and “we can eat spiders, and big juicy flies.” Got to love it to death, no?

The Magnificent 7 (The Clash): I would be ostracized if I missed this one, right? And, well, it is tough to not like anything the Clash did anyway.

RIP: Philip Seymour Hoffman (1967-2014)

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 Actor Philip Seymour Hoffman, the chameleon of contemporary actors, was found dead Sunday, ostensibly the victim of a self-inflicted heroin overdose.

bangsAt age 46, this is a sad loss as Hoffman was just a great talent, so able to look and act differently depending upon the role.

Hoffman did win an Oscar for his role as writer Truman Capote in the 2005 film, Capote.

But, there are basically three films Hoffmans, I really loved, all three of which had great music floating around in a direct or indirect fashion.

Boogie Nights-Hoffman played the sexually confused Scotty J, a sort of Gaffer in the world of porn film:  an insecure nerd who has somehow stumbled into the dream world of the repressed voyeur.

The Big Lebowski-This time Hoffman plays Brandt, instead of a Gaffer, he is a gopher for David Huddleston’s other Lebowski, a wonderfully restrained brown-noser. My favorite line of Hoffman’s is “Well Dude, we just don’t know.”

Almost Famous-My favorite of Hoffman’s roles, as he plays the great–and also sadly late and nihlistic–rock critic Lester Bangs. Bangs, who penned the iconic definitive rock critique book Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, died of alcohol and drug abuse, and now Hoffman has followed.

So sad.

Night Music: 801, “TNK” (Tomorrow Never Knows)

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I was driving up to Davis to pick up Lindsay who was spending Super Bowl Weekend with us (she is a huge Red Hot Chili Peppers fan), listening to my shuffle on the way, when Roxy Music’s More Than This came popping through the speakers.

More Than This is a lovely song, and I am a big Roxy fan, though apparently not as devoted as my mate Gene.

But, as I was thinking about Roxy, my thoughts went to the 1976 spin-off fostered by Phil Manzanera and Brian Eno, 801.

Backed by the stellar bass of Bill MacCormick and equally deadly drums of Simon Phillips (with additional keys by Francis Monkman), 801 lived long enough to produce a live disc (from which this version is culled) 801 Live along with a studio piece, Listen Now.

I did buy both LPs, but the thing I remember is the first time I heard TNK.

It was Christmas Eve, 1977, and I had a sort of girlfriend, Cathy Fabun, with whom I went to hang with (along with her friends) the early part of that night.

We were all sitting around talking, and getting stoned on some Maui Wowie, which was primo stuff at the time. $50 a quarter of an ounce, which was an unheard amount.

Eventually, I had to go back home as my roommates had stuff planned for the holiday.

In those days, I had one of those little mid-engine Porsche 914’s, so it was like a little spaceship, and instead of taking the main interstate home, I chose to drive on Frontage Road, in Albany and Berkeley, which hugs the bay, and gives a great view of the bridges, San Francisco all the way across the Golden Gate to Marin.

Since it was a nice clear night, you could see every light, and I had the stereo in the Porsche blasting to KSAN, the first free format FM station in the world, and one that at the time was still playing DJ’s choice.

So, on came TNK with no verbal introduction, nice and spacey with Eno leading things off, then MacCormick falling in behind, then the drums, and then Manzanera adding this rugged rhythm chords, and finally things are cranking full tilt.

This first time, I heard the vocals, and the words, and I kept asking myself, “I know this song, what is it?” till it finally came.

As soon as the record store was open (remember, the next day was Christmas) and I bought 801 Live and it has remained a top five live album of mine over the years.

So, on a finally rainy morning (53 days without rain, making it the first January in recorded history with no rain in Northern California till today), a Super Bowl Day when I am having fun cooking for the feast later, here is just a fabulous cut, live or not, cover or not.