Gene’s post of the Brothers Johnson on Facebook led me to this Rufus with Chaka Khan track, which I adored back in the day when it was new. This is all modulation and anticipation, the beat is slowed and crawling, and Chaka revels in the suspense.
I count this as an example of the most serious and amazing sounds released and people got it. Art and the godhead mix.
I loved this tune when I was 12. I bought the 45. What I didn’t know is that on the album, the American Breed covered Allen Toussaint’s Lipstick Traces, a recording that doesn’t seem to be on YouTube. Bend Me Shape Me has a great drum pattern, but the song is really made up of all sorts of hooky elements, like the hand claps and the inserted horns. I’m not sure without the frippery there’s that much there. But pop songs are frippery. Plus this video is a goof.
This tune has always been one of my favorite early Rolling Stones songs. It only appeared on Got Live If You Want It!, where a studio track was overdubbed with screaming girls, until the More Hot Rocks greatest hits album was released. Turns out it was written by Allen Toussaint.
The song was originally released as a B-side to Benny Spellman’s Lipstick Traces (on a cigarette), both tunes credited to Naomi Neville (Toussaint’s nom de pop–and also his mother’s name).
Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century, gave Greil Marcus the name for his brilliant historical exploration of the roots of punk rock. This is Spillman’s version.
Found this clip from the Love for Levon benefit concert. Allen Toussaint with the Levon Helm Band and Jaimo. A tough version of one of my favorite songs from The Band.
When I was in high school I read a story or stories or stories and references to the legendary Allen Toussaint, who was a major figure in the sound of New Orleans. I remember going to the library and finding a couple of his albums, bringing them home and not getting at all what he was up to. The piano playing was accomplished, but the songs weren’t particularly rockin’ or tuneful. I returned the records, I have no idea which ones they were, and filed Toussaint under overrated.
It wasn’t too much later, however, that I came at New Orleans music from a different angle, a compilation album of tunes from the late 50s and early 60s. All of sudden, reading the fine print, I had the pleasure to discover Toussaint in a different context. Mother in Law and Working in the Coal Mine are novelty tunes, but glorious rockin’ ones at that. Here’s Ernie K Doe’s Mother in Law:
Here’s Devo covering Working in the Coal Mine, which was originally a hit for Lee Dorsey.
The fact is that Toussaint had a long career working with a broad swath of musical talent throughout not only New Orleans’ history but rock’s history as a whole. Alas, he died yesterday, from two heart attacks following a performance in Madrid. You can get more details about his life in this obit at Rolling Stone. A more complete obituary by Ben Sisario is in the New York Times.
I want to call attention to his hugely underrated collaboration with Elvis Costello called The River in Reverse, recorded after Hurricane Katrina devastated Toussaint’s home town. This is a live version of Ascension Day with lots of Toussaint on the piano.
I saw Toussaint in the park near my house a few years ago (turns out to be five). He’s a funny, talkative performer, who worked hard to please the crowd with a set of old hits and newer stuff. I must have been sitting right behind the guy with the camera here, by the way. Sit down!
Around the time the Dolls and Springsteen were going for stardom, Elliot Murphy was the darling of Andy Warhol’s Interview magazine, which didn’t lack for cachet because of that whole Velvet Underground thing.
One day when I was in high school I was in New York City for some unremembered reason, and I was on the Long Island Railroad headed home reading Interview, a feature about Elliot Murphy, and I look up and there on the danged LIRR car is Elliot Murphy, wearing a neon blue (aqua) feather jacket, like a true rock star, with hangers on (friends) and everything. On the Long Island Railroad! Though I’m not sure the record was even out yet, which may explain something.
Murphy didn’t endure nor soar the way the Dolls and Springsteen have. I don’t have a theory why. He seemed very delicate and kind of made up on the train. Aquashow was a good album, but careers get derailed in many ways. Stardom selects in reverse. Many aspire and a few survive the gauntlet.
In any case, Murphy didn’t stop. Here’s a version from a live show in Italy in 2006. No longer innocent nor callow.
I’m listening to this new Bob Dylan booleg, The Cutting Edge 1965 – 1966: The Bootleg Series Vol. 12 (6 CD Deluxe Edition)
I like the Roberta Flack version, which is direct and simple. But apparently Ewan MacColl, who wrote the song, thought it was too pop.
It is pop, it has strings, which is why it was a big and deserved hit.
There is a new album of Ewan MacColl covers out. A tribute album, as it were. He was a giant of the Englishy folk scene of the 50s, and married Pete Seeger’s sister to boot. He claimed their version of this song was the best, stripped down and weird, but he’s wrong (though to be fair he died before Johnny Cash recorded his version).
For the record, here’s the lovely Roberta Flack version, which is also better than MacColl’s.
I was at dinner with some friends the other night, when talk turned to Elvis Costello’s new book, Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink
I also told the story of hanging at the bar with Joey Ramone, talking about just how sucky the Tuff Darts (opening act) were.
But then I told the story of seeing Costello and the Attractions on Saturday Night Live, and I got the whole story totally wrong. In my head, the label wanted Elvis to play Allison, and he instead played Radio Radio.
But the clips are clear. He was scheduled to play Less Than Zero, a track about British fascist Oswald Mosely, and who could know it would later become a Bret Easton Ellis post teen drug romp novel and movie, but played instead the insolent and immature but uberly catchy Radio Radio.
For this, Lorne Michaels or NBC, I’m not sure which, banned Costello from NBC shows. Wow.
But on the 25th anniversary of SNL, Costello was back, recreating the moment (equally awkwardly) and played Radio Radio with the Beastie Boys. It’s cool, and I think shows just how tight the Attractions were.
I came on this one, long forgotten by me, because it was written Albert Hammond Sr. Father of Albert Hammond Jr.
