This live version from 1980, is like the studio version, full of Lowe-isms while popping Dave Edmunds up front. I’m sure that’s Elvis Costello introducing the tune, by the way.
I’m not sure of the pedigree of this Graham Parker version. He wrote the song, of course. It’s certainly styled less to please pop, more skiffle and Dylan than Chuck Berry. But Parker knows how to sing and that drummer knows how to make a shoe box rock. For better or worse, you decide that, Parker gives his words more attention here.
I went to an Ornette Coleman tribute Hal Wilner put on in the park near my house just about one year ago today.
Ornette is a jazz guy, perhaps the most popular of the free jazz players, and a musical giant. What I learned a year ago was that Lou Reed loved Ornette, but then so do many. I remember at poker games in the loft on Lispenard Street I would sometimes put Ornette on as a distraction, but somehow the beauty of his sounds won the day more often than I won the hand.
This one is live from Prince Street in 1970, same neighborhood as the poker (though 10 years earlier), and chosen especially because of the groovy vibe. (That’s Charlie Haden on the bass, Dewey Redman on tenor, and Ed Blackwell on the drums. )
I remember reading the review of Sticky Fingers in Rolling Stone, when the record was new, and thinking how sad the reviewer’s job must be to be disappointed in this fantastic record. Today Slate’s Jack Hamilton reviews the original album (not the new double and triple disk versions meant to cash in on enthusiasm for the anniversary) and it’s a much happier and appropriate piece, and he mentions those less than enthusiastic reviews.
Because we’ve posted most of the songs from the album here over the years, especially the terrific Sway and the majestic Moonlight Mile, here is a version of Wild Horses from the Flying Burrito Brothers, which came out a year earlier than the Stones’ version.
I never seem to be able to watch the entire Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions all in one shot. The broadcasts, on HBO, usually run about four hours, and my body has a muscle memory chip to fall asleep anytime I watch TV for more than 90 minutes at a stretch.
I did catch the end, though, the other day, and there was a lovely induction speech for Lou Reed by Patti Smith, and then an equally lovely acceptance by Lori Anderson, and then the live tribute, which began with Beck leading the performance of Satellite of Love.
I must admit that though I love Reed and the song, that my first thoughts of the title go to the wonderful late 80’s-early 90’s TV show, Mystery Science Theater (MST). MST’s premise was a shlubby janitor (Joel Hodgson) gets zapped into space and is forced to watch crappy movies and the results can be registered. If you check the Wiki link, you will see more, but Joel named the ship on which he was marooned “The Satellite of Love,” in an obvious homage to Reed.
So, you get goofy clip, and now a pretty joyful version of the source. Miss you Lou!
The Angels were big in Australia in the 80s, though it seems like even in Australia a band should have known enough not to call themselves the Angels. This is a band playing funny looking instruments, and a singer who gives away the song’s best joke with his t-shirt. But the joke is funny enough (in the crowd’s enthusiasm) to keep on giving, all the way to the end.
I’m not clear about the origins of this track. It may be Mick Taylor’s audition. It dates from 1969 and what you hear in the left track is Keith. The piano player, most important, is Nicky Hopkins. The guitar in the right track is Mick Taylor.
It’s a great raw version of a great song years before it ended up in a great version on elpee. Can’t get enough…
I don’t know why ribald doo-wop is surprising, but the form just always seemed sort of clean and romantic. Always old fashioned and nice. Of course not.
BB King was my gateway to the blues, via his great album Live at the Regal. I saw him live once, at the Academy of Music in New York on a bill with the J. Geils Band in 1973 or so. An amazing show.
I just read on Wikipedia that King’s favorite singer was Frank Sinatra, who similarly died on May 14th.
Sweet Little Angel is a delightful song, full of life and generous good spirits. On a sad day, I get joy, and everything.
It was the cover of this tune, by Stories, that was a big hit in the US in 1973. The arrangements of the songs are different. Hot Chocolate has more of a soul feel, with flangy guitars and strings, while Stories rocks the guitars more, but the biggest difference in this story of interracial love is the point of view.
Hot Chocolate wrote the song, so you have to give their version primacy. In Hot Chocolate’s version, contrasting vignettes of Louie and his gal at their respective parents’ homes, and their fathers’ spoken word intolerance demonstrate that there is no difference between black and white in the worst possible way.
Stories version changes the story, as it were. Louie brings his black gal home and there is some kind of unspecified scene. That’s it. Gone is the equal opportunity prejudice, as well as the strings and the spoken word. In Stories’ version the white parents are the bad guys, in a vague way, and they shouldn’t be. You know what I mean?
I remember at the time hearing that this song was an answer song to Richard Berry’s Louie Louie, which is apparently not true.
Louie C.K. adopted Brother Louie as the theme song for his show, Louie, in which he plays a dad in an interracial marriage that is now defunct. Interestingly, the show uses the Hot Chocolate arrangement of the song, with vocals by Stories’ Ian Lloyd.
