Category Archives: Great Songs

Afternoon Snack: 13th Floor Elevators, “You’re Gonna Miss Me”

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Gene’s post of the Dolls Too Much Too Soon reminded me so much of the 13th Floor Elevators, that I was jonesing to hear that great tune from Roky Erickson and band.

In searching, I found this really great clip from Dick Clark’s Where the Action Is.

Since it is actually semi-live, and since I don’t remember seeing the Elevators in “action,” I had no clue that the odd sort of synth/bass sound was Tommy Hall playing the jug.

Now I know.

Classic Nuggets: The Jarmels, “A Little Bit of Soap”

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I am not sure why pop/soul songs of the early 60’s have been jumping into my brain of late.

Earlier this week it was Dick and DeeDee’s The Mountains High. This morning it was Ruby and the Romantics Our Day Will Come, which I promptly went to on YouTube.

I found the original, plus a pretty good cover by Amy Winehouse, but in the process, there popped up a bunch of other great like songs from the era. Tell Him, by the Exciters, One Fine Day, but the Chiffons, Easier Said Than Done, by the Essex, and this tune.

The songs, and those of the Brill Building and Motown were not only so finely written and crafted, but they were a lot like the movies of the Hollywood system in the late 30’s and 40’s, when it just seemed the competition was tight and everything produced–or at least released–was a the top of its respective game.

It did make me realize that times have changed, and there is no real vehicle for simple pop tunes like these any more. It is rock, or alt, or headbanger, or rap, or house music, but the old homogenization of the pop charts where The Impressions and Conway Twitty and the Beachboys and the Four Seasons and Marvin Gaye could all share Billboard space seems to be long gone.

For, though there were specific genres back in the 60’s, the big deal was to have a cross-over hit, like A Little Bit of Soap, which made it on the soul charts, but also made it on the Billboard Top 100 as well.

Maybe with the death of radio it was inevitable for genre selection to be driven by Pandora and her ilk, but irrespective, it doesn’t seem like bands and songwriters and producers labor to produce little two-minute-plus gems as they did when radio was in its heyday. Not that I am longing to return to those old times, but I did start a new category call “Classic Nuggets” just to cover these lovely little works of musical art.

Let’s start here, anyway, with the Jarmels.

Lunch Break: Jimmy Cliff, “The Harder They Come”

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My post of yesterday, Me Talk Pretty One Day reminded me of the great Percy Henzell film from 1972, The Harder They Come.

In the movie, Jimmy Cliff plays frustrated singer Ivanhoe Martin, a young man with talent, but one unable to generate any buzz or interest in his skill either within the music industry, or with the Jamaican population.

So, he becomes and outlaw, first as part of a record deal, and then because it becomes too late to turn the clock back.

Not only is the film really great, but the soundtrack is maybe the best compilation of reggae ever assembled.

But, it was also the first film I ever saw where the words were spoken in English, but the accents were so thick, that American audiences were blessed with subtitles (I think the words of the Pikers in the movie Snatched also might have had subtitles).

Irrespective, here is the clip from the movie with Jimmy recording the title track:

Breakfast Blend: The Move, “Do Ya”

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I was a big ELO fan, at least till they became sort of redundant in the Moody Blues sense, and punk exploded and I abandoned all things progressive and over-produced.

facethemusicThat said, El Dorado still is a pretty good listen depending upon my mood, as is Face the Music which does have one of the best album jackets ever.

But, the first time I heard Do Ya, it was a cover by Todd Rundgren. I loved it at first listen, but as I tried to track it down, I discovered the song was originally written by Jeff Lynne and Roy Wood. Wood was the genius behind The Move, and dragged Bev Bevan and Jeff Lynne to that band, which eventually morphed into ELO.

ELO did recreate Do Ya, with strings, and though I had not yet completely “a-band-doned” them (I think it was on A New World Record) that version does not even come close to the kick-ass original by The Move.

I don’t do coffee much anymore in the mornings (green tea, please), but this does get my adrenalin going.

 

 

Night Music: Dire Straits, “Solid Rock”

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I couldn’t watch the political news today. Too depressing.

So I streamed KTKE and on came the Straits, a band I had not heard for a while.

During the new wave rush, Dire Straits were a serious fave of mine, and Mark Knopfler was similarly both a fave guitar play, and songwriter too.

With riffs (dude fingerpicks, which makes me totally wonder how he gets such a throaty sound out of his leads sometimes) influenced by Richard Thompson (Knopfler once said he learned the most from listening to Thompson) and Dylan-esque words and vocals, Dire Straits were just different enough, just edgy enough, and way good enough to survive.

Somehow they seemed way smart enough too, which may sound snotty, but I mean it in the sense that the band played challenging music. But, I think if we all look at the bands we really loved the most–The Velvets, Replacements, The Stones, Dylan, Iggy, etc.–all dared us to ride along on their artistic and musical journey.

Dire Straits third album, Making Movies made my essentials list. Making Movies jumped the band ahead from their early sound to what sounded like new territory at the time. The entire album is fabulous, and since I was jonesing for a little crunch from Mark and his axe, here you go.

Sleep tight.

Night Music: The Allman Brothers, “One Way Out”

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Last night, in New York, the Allman Brothers played their last show. The band has been a different band for much of it’s career than the band that once contained Duane Allman and Berry Oakley, which is playing on this live version of Sonny Boy Williamson’s song, One Way Out. Better? Worse? I loved the old days. The Allman Brothers were the first big rock band I ever saw live, though I didn’t know anything about them that day. They were the opening act for Mountain at Stony Brook University. A fan was made.

Night Music: The Who, “My Generation”

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My dad is old and he has lost almost everything that makes life worth living but his mind, which is still working overtime clocking the stuff that happens. But isn’t that great at enjoying the daily stuff that is happening outside himself.

I’ve spent much of the last week in the Sunshine State trying to figure out a way for him to live the best life he can in his decline. The hell of it is he can still be charming and funny, but the toll taken by his body’s decline means he’s often playing a defensive game. And he’s not that charming or funny, because even at his most expansive he’s thinking more about what he isn’t than what anyone else is.

It’s awful.

Plus, he’s pretty much constantly fending off those who want to strip him of his liberty, which is to his credit. Except that the facts of the last couple of years show he can’t really handle liberty. Given choice, he chooses badly (or at least, the way of the rotting flesh).

I think an 86 year old has the right to choose badly, as long as they’re not bringing those around them down too, and unfortunately he has a wife who is apparently incapable of escaping his vortex. So he’s not helping her, at the least.

Which makes me think I don’t want to ever get old. Oops.