One of my favorite “hidden classics” is Lee Michaels’ Carnival of Life. I featured a SotW from that album way back in late 2012.
Although Michaels is known for his work behind the keyboards (organ, piano, harpsichord), one of the best parts of Carnival of Life is the guitar playing by Hamilton W. Watt. But who is Hamilton W. Watt?
Trying to answer that question sent me down an internet wormhole. First I landed on this interesting obituary:
And by the time I came out, I had discovered a terrific album that I hadn’t heard before – A Gift from Euphoria, by Euphoria.
Euphoria was a duo made up of Watt and William Lincoln. They were signed to Capitol Records and made one album that was released in 1969. That album has become a cult classic among record collectors. (No, I don’t own a copy!) It is well regarded for the eclectic mix of styles that are executed so well. The album has symphonic ballads (think Moody Blues), hippy country rock (like The Byrds), psych, and songs that integrate sound collages (like The Beatles “Tomorrow Never Knows”).
Today’s SotW – “Through a Window” – is the cut that makes the best use of Watt’s guitar prowess.
After listening through the whole album a couple of times I happened to pick up my copy of The MOJO Collection – The Greatest Albums of All Time, and guess what? A Gift from Euphoria is represented in the section for 1969!
To fully appreciate this album, you should listen to it all the way through. It isn’t available on Spotify, but the full album can be found on YouTube.
Joe Jackson entered the music scene with the release of Look Sharp!, in 1979. He and fellow Brits Elvis Costello and Graham Parker were lumped together as punk rockers (or maybe new wavers) by the music press. But all three were more aligned with the pub rock scene (as was Nick Lowe and Rockpile).
Look Sharp! contained the evergreen “Is She Really Going Out with Him?” along with several other songs that were popular on college radio. Seven months later, still in 1979, Jackson released his second album – I’m the Man. That disc has one of my favorite Jackson cuts – the beautiful “It’s Different for Girls.”
“It’s Different for Girls” was much more popular in the UK than the US. It reached #5 in the UK but couldn’t break into the Top 100 here in the US. I don’t get it.
The verse has a beautiful melody that floats over a simple two-note guitar pattern. The lyrics are a gender bending take on which of the sexes is more permissive. Stereotypically the girl (not woman in this song) is “holding out” and the guy is ready to jump into bed at the go. But not in this one.
What the hell is wrong with you tonight I can’t seem to say or do the right thing Wanted to be sure you’re feeling right Wanted to be sure we want the same thing
She said, I can’t believe it You can’t Possibly mean it Don’t we, All want the same thing Don’t we, Well who said anything about love
So then, what is “different for girls?” I think Jackson is twisting the typical male attitude that boys are different because they aren’t emotionally tied to sex. But it’s the girl in this lyric who says “Who said anything about love?”
Jackson went on to record and release a few, more sophisticated, jazz influenced pop albums that yielded hits such as “Steppin’ Out”, Breaking Us in Two”, and “You Can’t Get What You Want (Til You Know What You Want).”
But by the late ‘90s Jackson had turned away from pop and began to focus more on classical music. He still performs and released an album, Fool, as recently as 2019.
The ‘70s hit band Bread was known for their soft rock, love ballads, sung by David Gates. Besides Gates, the core of the band included Jimmy Griffin (vocals, guitar, keyboard) and Robb Royer (bass, guitar, keys and other instruments). For many, including me, Bread is a guilty pleasure.
But that’s not the whole story of this band. They had chops and could really rock out. Take, for instance, the lead track from their fourth (and best) album, Baby I’m-a Want You (1972) – “Mother Freedom.”
By this point, the great LA session musician, Larry Knechtel, was the full-time bass player, replacing Royer. (Knechtel played the piano part on Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge over Troubled Water” and was on the sessions for many classic albums, including Pet Sounds, The Doors, Mr. Tambourine Man, and Alone Together.)
“Mother Freedom” clocks in at under 3 minutes but rocks with a funky riff, some nifty solo guitar work, and exciting vocal harmonies. Freedom from guilt!
Today’s SotW was written by guest contributor Steve Studebaker. Steve leads Blind to Reason as their guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter. Their music streams on Spotify. Besides BTR, Steve is a musicologist and huge ZZ Top fan. So when I learned ZZ Top bassist Dusty Hill died this week, I knew just the guy to call on to pay tribute to him for the SotW.
Anyone who knows me knows I love the blues, and blues rock — Zeppelin, the Stones. Robin Trower, Allmans, et al. But the band who got me going at a young age was ZZ Top. That Little Ol’ Band from Texas.
I saw them for the first time as a teenager in 1975 on the ‘Fandango’ tour. I was about 20 feet from the stage at the Portland Memorial Coliseum. Always with great style, their stage was empty except for the drums, flanked on either side with a huge row of Marshall stacks re-branded as “Rio Grande” amps. Billy and Dusty powder blue sequined cowboy suits and ten-gallon hats. They tore the roof off the joint. My ears rang for days and my mind was blown. I’ve seen them several more times, most recently a couple of years ago with my younger son. They never disappointed.
Formed in the late sixties and just recently celebrating 50 years together, they managed to play original music that sounded like classic blues. Texas blues in the style of Albert and Freddie King. They played loud but with finesse; hard edged but always a little bit funky.
Both Billy Gibbons and Dusty were known for a minimalist style. Exactly the right note at exactly the right time. Perfectly in sync and in the pocket, with no unnecessary fluff.
Here’s an example. If you want to hear the baddest, funkiest, opening 30 seconds in classic rock, put on their third album Tres Hombres. The first cut is “Waitin’ for the Bus”. Billy starts off with a blistering lick on his Les Paul (named Pearly Gates), and then Dusty walks in with the drums 3 bars later. Magic. Turn the volume way up!
Of course guitarist and vocalist Billy Gibbons gets the lion’s share of accolades. Rightly so. Jimi Hendrix called him one of the world’s greatest guitar players. But a bass player in a power trio has to carry the load. He’s the glue that holds the drums, guitar, and vocals together. Dusty Hill did all of that and more. Throughout their discography you’ll hear syncopated, polytonic bass parts that other arena rock bands want no part of. Dusty sometimes sang backup vocals, but ironically he sang the lead on their biggest radio hit, “Tush”.
In my book, their greatest albums are the aforementioned Tres Hombres and their sixth album Deguello. But every one of their records has a radio hit, with tasty licks, funky rhythms, and more than a few psychedelic desert sojourns.
Legend has it that the first time Billy and Frank met Dusty, he passed out and fell off the barstool. They looked at each other and said, “He’s gonna fit in just fine.”
In that spirit, check out cut 3 on Tres Hombres. It’s another great bass performance, as he and Billy do “call and response” vocals. As you listen, raise a glass to Joseph Michael “Dusty” Hill.
If you want the whole story check out the documentary That Little Ol’ Band from Texas on Netflix.
Today’s SotW was written by guest contributor Michael Paquette. It’s his third post this year!
This song seems even more relevant now than it did when it was released in 1989. Lou Reed’s 15th studio release New York was highly critically acclaimed. It even spawned a reunion of the Velvet Underground due to its popularity. The Village Voice rated it the third best album of 1989 in its annual Pazz and Jop critics poll.
Lou Reed had a bit of a rocky period before being signed by Seymour Stein to his Sire label in 1989. Sire records had earned a reputation for its progressive taste and having the ability to translate those tastes into mainstream media. The label propelled the careers of the Ramones, Talking Heads, the Smiths, the Pretenders, the Cure, and Depeche Mode. Notably, the label signed an underground dance artist from New York named Madonna and turned her into a superstar. Lou Reed definitely fit the model.
New York is a stripped down, raw, and hard hitting album. The band consisted of Lou Reed, guitarist Mike Rathke, bassist Rob Wasserman, and drummer Fred Maher. Lou reached out to Maher who had been playing in England with the band Scritti Politti, a new wave act. Maher was behind the drums on Reed’s New Sensations release. Lou asked Maher who might be a good producer and Maher, noting that Reed had had several tempestuous relationships with former producers responded with “how about me.” Thus, Maher produced this release. The album was done in six weeks and Maher said he found Lou easy to work with.
The raw, stripped down sound was not to everyone’s taste. The singer songwriter James McMurty asked John Mellencamp what he thought of the work and Mellencamp replied that it sounded like it was produced by an eighth grader but I like it. The AIDS epidemic was raging at the time of the release and these were people Lou Reed had long standing ties to, gays, IV drug users, and artists. The song “Halloween Parade” pays homage to this era.
The song I chose from this breakthrough work is “Busload of Faith,” a song that is conceptually bold and simple. A stark reminder of where we are in this politically divided nation.
The song opens side two and begins without apology.
You can’t depend on your family
You can’t depend on a beginning
You can’t depend on an end
You can’t depend on intelligence
You can’t depend on God
You can only depend on one thing
you need a busload of faith to get by
When the album was recorded Lou had given up drugs and alcohol. With his life turned around he felt he had the stamina and concentration to produce a concept album. The album was a great artistic success for him even though it was not a huge hit. It remains my favorite album of this legendary artist. It was voted the 19th best album of the 1980s by Rolling Stone magazine. Lou performed all the songs on the album at the Theatre Saint-Denis in Montreal which was released as a DVD entitled The New York Album.
It was released as a box set in September of last year with a second CD of previously unreleased live performances of his 1989 tour and some alternate mixes. Bob Seger covered “Busload of Faith” on his 2017 release dedicated to Eagles’ Glenn Frey called I Knew You When. This song continues to work as a political anthem.
Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the highway accident that took the life of Harry Chapin. He was only 38 years old. He was one of the good guys.
Chapin used his celebrity to do good. He worked tirelessly to end world hunger through his work with Bill Ayers and as a member of the Carter Administration’s Presidential Commission on World Hunger. His work in this regard was inspirational to the organizers of Live Aid, USA for Africa, and Hands Across America.
By the mid-’70s Chapin, half of all of Chapin’s performances were benefit concerts. It has been said that he never rejected a request to perform at a fundraiser for just about any cause. In 1977, he did a fundraiser for filmmaker Michael Moore to help Moore launch The Flint Voice, a Detroit area underground weekly newspaper that covered issues important to the progressive left.
Today’s SotW is Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle.”
The “story song” that’s about a dad who regrets he never prioritized spending time with his son when the shoe is on the other foot and his grown son doesn’t have time for him.
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away I called him up just the other day I said, I’d like to see you if you don’t mind He said, I’d love to, dad, if I can find the time You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad It’s been sure nice talking to you And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me He’d grown up just like me My boy was just like me
“Cat’s in the Cradle” has more cultural references than just about any song ever written. It has been namechecked in The Simpsons, The Office, and Modern Family. Check out this link for a more comprehensive list of references.
On July 16, 1981, Chapin’s car was in a collision with a semi-trailer. His car burst into flames. Passersby were able to drag him out of the car but his body was without proper ID. However, a pocket watch in his possession helped to identify him. The watch was a gift from Michael Moore to Chapin for the help he provided back in ’77 with an inscription that was the key. It read “From the Flint Voice. To a great American, Harry Chapin.” Yes, indeed!
Today’s SotW is different. It is the title cut from Funkadelic’s album, Maggot Brain, first released 50 years ago this week!
What’s so different about it? Well, it is essentially an extended, psychedelic guitar solo by the late, great Eddie Hazel.
The album was recorded while Funkadelic leader George Clinton was on acid, and it shows, especially on the title track. As MOJO tells the story:
Rumour has it that Clinton had discovered his brother’s decomposed body lying in a Chicago apartment with a cracked skull – hence the Maggot Brain – and he locked guitarist Eddie Hazel alone in the studio with the brief to play “like your mother just died”. Hazel did just that producing an anguished, fragile, nine-minute guitar solo that rivalled (sic) Hendrix…”
Though Clinton later disavowed the “maggot brain” part of the story, he did coax an amazing guitar performance from Hazel. He told MOJO:
“When he started playing, I knew immediately that he understood what I meant. I could see the guitar notes stretching out like a silver web. When we played the solo back, I knew that it was beyond good, not only a virtuosos display of musicianship but also an unprecedented moment of emotion in pop music.”
The ultimate evidence that mime acts should not be allowed to make records. Especially if they don’t know enough to keep their mouths shut.
Dave Marsh
That snarky review is all that Marsh had to say about Hello People in The Rolling Stone Record Guide (1979). I agree that the mime thing was ridiculous. Why combine mime – which is based on silence – with performing rock music with vocals? But dismissing their music outright is a bit harsh.
Wikipedia has a great summary of how the band’s concept was conceived:
The idea for creating the group stemmed from Marcel Carné‘s 1945 film Children of Paradise (Les Enfants du Paradis). Etienne Decroux, the father of French mime, plays the part of Bapties’s father in the film. During the sixties, Decroux taught painting to a group of musicians. Since these musicians learned to paint so quickly, Decroux reasoned that musicians could also learn mime and apply it in some new way to create a new form. The manager of the musicians Decroux taught, Lou Futterman, decided he would implement this new concept, and put together a new group of musicians who would perform in mime makeup and do mime routines between songs, never speaking a word to the audience.
Hello People had two distinct phases, albeit with (mostly) the same lineup. The ‘60s version was more psychedelic and political. By the mid ‘70s, the band was touring as Todd Rundgren’s backing band and making more pop-oriented, though eclectic, records.
Today’s SotW is “Future Shock” from The Hansome Devils (1974).
“Future Shock” was the band’s only single to chart, though it stalled at an unimpressive #71.
The Handsome Devils was produced by Rundgren, who also produced other gems like New York Dolls, Bat Out of Hell (Meatloaf), Felix Cavaliere, Straight Up (Badfinger), We’re an American Band (Grand Funk), Wave (Patti Smith), Remote Control (The Tubes), and Skylarking (XTC).
Though “Future Shock” was the single, I recommend giving the whole album a listen – especially if you enjoy albums that take you on a journey through different and diverse musical styles. Don’t let Dave Marsh scare you away.
In 1960, Johnny Kidd & The Pirates scored a #1 hit on the UK singles chart with their original version of “Shakin’ All Over.” It’s an exceptional tune that you probably know from one of the many covers. Perhaps The Guess Who’s version from 1965 that reached #1 in Canada, or The Who’s track from Live at Leeds (1970).
Kidd died in 1966, but his band lived on with many personnel changes. But only one was given Kidd’s blessing to use the Pirates name and rcord under it. That group consisted of guitarist Mick Green, vocalist and bass player Johnny Spence and drummer Frank Farley. (This was not the band that recorded “Shakin’ All Over.”)
This final collection of bandmates were a powerful trio of rock and roll musicians. Energy oozes from them like hot lava from a volcano. After a 10 year hiatus, the band reformed in 1976 at the behest of fan and Dr. Feelgood guitarist, Wilco Johnson.
The released an album in 1977 called Out of Their Skulls. It was half live from a concert at Nashville Lives in London, and half in the studio. I favor the live side because it captures their energy, and the audience reaction, so well. Today’s SotW is ”Lonesome Train” from the live side.
“Lonesome Train” was originally recorded in 1956 by rockabilly band Johnny Burnette and the Rock ‘n Roll Trio – they of “Train Kept A’Rollin’” fame. This version by The Pirates snarls with attitude and chugs along at a ferocious pace thet befits the song title. Green’s guitar work is fantastic. He’s credited for his ability to play rhythm and lead simultaneously.
Green’s reputation as a musician led to gigs with Bryan Ferry, Paul MCartney, Robert Plant, and Van Morrison. Green died in 2010.
In the mid-’60s there was a genre of European (mostly French, mostly women) pop music called yé-yé (pronounced yey-yey) that derived from British rock songs like the Beatles “She Loves You” (Yeah Yeah Yeah).
One of the top yé-yé singers was France Gall, who had her first brush with stardom as a sixteen-year-old girl. She exuded a “girl-next-door” virtue that complimented her pop hits like Laisse Tomber Les Filles (Let the Girls Fall).
The intro sounds like it could be an outtake of “The Munsters’ Theme.” Quentin Tarantino, a master at digging up obscure songs to use on his soundtracks, used an English version of the song (“Chick Habit”) by April March in his film Death Proof (2007). Tastemaker Jack White has recently reissued Gall’s first three albums on vinyl, on his Third Man imprint.
Later, Gall was still working with Serge Gainsbourg when he wrote her hit “Les Sucettes” (“Lollipops”).
This song took advantage of Gall’s innocent, yet implied sexuality. Gainsbourg once called her The French Lolita. Turns out, the song was a metaphor for… well, I don’t have to spell it out (whether she knew it or not). Wikipedia explains further:
The very noun for lollypop in French, “sucette”, is the substantivised verb “sucer”, sucking – so that the title and the refrain (“Annie aime les sucettes”, Annie loves lollypops) are far more evocative in French than in the English translation. A possible translation to preserve the innuendo would be “Annie loves suckers”. The song also features a direct double entendre, stating that Annie has lollipops “pour quelques pennies” (for a few pennies), which can also be heard as “pour quelques pénis” (for a few penises).
And if that’s not enough to convince you, check out the 1966 video that accompanied the song’s release. It’s about as subtle as a train going through a tunnel!
Many other yé-yé singers are worth checking out on the six-volume Ultra Chicks series – if you can find them.
