Category Archives: lawr

Afternoon Snack: Randy Hansen’s Machine Gun, “All Along the Watchtower”

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I guess this piece goes back to the determining the difference between what is good, art/music wise, as opposed to what we like.

To a degree, I will buy into Steve’s notion that once the “Average Joe’s” are hep to a band or performer, I am usually done with them.

That said, his comment on the Rubettes piece, that Dave Evans could not pick up a Jimmy Page lick is kind of specious to me.

I did think of the great Jimi Hendrix in this sense, for though he was indeed a tremendous and innovative player, as much of his performance was rooted in the volume and feedback he employed. And, I don’t mean that as a slam. I LOVE Hendrix, and was lucky enough to see him four times.

But, if you doubt this, check out Randy Hansen, who does his Hendrix tribute.

I actually saw Hansen in action, maybe 35 years ago, and no question he had the Hendrix chops and sound down as you can see. Does that mean it is good? Does that mean Bono sucks because he cannot sing Come on Feel the Noise a la Noddy?

Does it mean Hendrix sucks because Dylan wrote All Along the Watchtower? Or that Joan Jett sucks because she made a hit out of Bad Reputation, even though Freedy Johnson wrote it? Despite the fact that both deconstructed the songs and essentially made them their own?

Does it mean the the movie Clueless sucks because it is based upon Jane Austen’s Emma, which was given a truer representation to the original with Gwyneth Paltrow?

Is there a difference between “this sucks,” and, “I don’t like it?”

 

Attitude: Joni Says “Bite Me”

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Say what you will about Joni Mitchell.

I say rock’n’roll is about attitude, and that Joni has it in spades.

This piece, written by Eric Rovie at the AV Club, says everything you need to know about it. Name another performer willing to take that path?

The text is:

joni

One of the truly great pastimes of the Taylor Swift Era is trying to figure out which celebrities inspired Taylor’s musical tales of heartbreak and inevitable recovery and triumph. We’ve been pretending not to move our feet to “Shake It Off” all summer, but now we have some insight into the possible meaning of the line “haters gonna hate, hate, hate” with confirmation that folk singer Joni Mitchell put the kibosh on a Swift-fronted biopic.

The movie, which Swift has been eyeballing since 2012, would have been based on Sheila Weller’s book Girls Like Us, a group biography of Mitchell, Carole King, and Carly Simon. Alison Pill of The Newsroom fame was rumored for the part of King, with John Sayles and Kate Jacobs on board as screenwriter and director, respectively. But Mitchell was apparently not enamored with the gossipy content of Weller’s book, nor with the possibility of being represented on film by America’s biggest pop star, telling the film’s producer, “All you’ve got is a girl with high cheekbones. It’s just a lot of gossip, you don’t have the great scenes.” By putting her foot down on the project, Mitchell appears to have killed off our only chance to see Swift performing “A Case of You” while pensively smoking cigarettes, which is tragic in its own right.

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.

Thanksgiving Breakfast Blend: Danny Kaye, “The Dodger Song”

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As I have probably written before, when I was little, I did not realize I was contrary.

But, I was a Dodger fan in Northern California during the 60’s, so that should have told me all I needed to know.

In 1962, this song by Danny Kaye, made the local charts for obvious reasons.

And, Peter’s Wilco/DiMaggio posts made me think of this song (of which I can still remember all the words).

This is a pretty cool video, by the way. Leggo city (all we had were Lincoln Logs and Erector Sets).

 

Afteroon Snack: Cage the Elephant, “Cigarette Daydreams”

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I always think that I don’t post enough stuff with contributions from newer bands, and, I really like this band (well, the band is really the vehicle for singer/songwriter Matt Shultz) a lot, and this song has a nice dreamy almost John Lennon quality to it. As does Shultz’ voice at times.

Really a sweet tune as we all try to relax during the calm, prior to the onslaught of turkey and family and football.

Which isn’t a bad thing, I might add.

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:

Me Talk Pretty One Day

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Any of you read David Sedaris’ very funny reflections, Me Talk Pretty One Day?

Well, I am not sure why that emerged as an appropriate title for this, but Diane and I schlepped up to the Tahoe house for the Thanksgiving holiday (rest of family will start arriving tomorrow) and we were watching Life of Brian (watching Brian, or The Holy Grail when we get here is part of the ritual for us).

Of course I was cracking up, as I think Life of Brian is not just one of the funniest–and best–movies ever, but I felt strongly that before America engaged in any invasions of Iraq or Afghanistan, every American should watch the film (and then keep watching it once a week until we were out of the middle east).

That is because the issues in that region are indeed 6000 years old, and, well, they run deep and silly. But, as the “Biggus Dickus” scene popped on, it made me wonder why it is so extra funny when characters are speaking the same language, and yet still cannot understand one another.

Not to mention, maybe such language miscues really get to the heart of human problems: that we simply don’t listen or hear to one another.

Here are some pretty good cinematic examples of this, starting with the oh so brilliant Pythons.

Yet another favorite, and perhaps the greatest parody of all time (sorry Spinal Tap), this scene also completely kills me.

While Father of the Bride does not even close to rank in a favorites list, this scene with Franck (Martin Short) does always get me, especially in the sense that the women totally get Franck, and poor, flustered Steve Martin has no clue. (I know this scene is pretty much ripped from the original, with Elizabeth Taylor and Spencer Tracy, but I like this sequence better.)

Afternoon Snack: Dick and Dee Dee, “The Mountains High”

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Beats me where it came from, but I was making dinner (a nice shepherd’s pie on a rainy evening) the other night and out of nowhere, The dickanddeedeeMountains High got tripped off in my head somehow and I found myself singing it while I cooked.

Was it a Proustian moment, where the scent of thyme and garlic with ground beef and carrots triggered memories of being eight and getting totally knocked out by the song? I actually doubt that. My mother was at best a pedestrian cook, and she would never have understood the Proust reference anyway.

But, the song did completely nail me when it came out in 1961 (I was eight, so cut me some slack). I think it was mostly the machine gun drums that got me, but something about the almost dissonant, but somehow very right mix of the vocals of Dick and DeeDee also got under my skin in a good way as well.

That and as a precocious eight-year old, I saw a pic (see above) of DeeDee and had a horrible crush on her. In fact I think that my tastes in women were largely as set there as anytime, as black hair and bangs and the skinny Parker Posey/Chrissy Hynde/Joan Jett look has always been my preference, although add glasses and being a Southpaw for some reason kicks that attraction into outer space. We humans are so odd, no?

 

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.

 

 

Lunch Break: Frank Patterson, “Danny Boy”

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WTF?  Frank Patterson? Danny Boy?

Yeah, fucking Danny Boy.

I had the Coen’s great Miller’s Crossing film on in the background while working.

I do love the Coen’s, and while I think Fargo and Lebowski and A Serious Man might be my favorites, then I remember Miller’s Crossing and that it pretty much blows away anything else the boys have done as a whole piece of filmaking.

I am not really a big fan of the song Danny Boy, and my understanding is that Patterson recorded this version especially for the film, but, the sweet tenor, juxtaposed with the ballet of cause and effect and subsequent violence as one mob gang tries to exterminate rival boss Leo (Albert Finney) does so much to define his character within the movie.

So, the music might not be rock and roll, but the sequence surely is.