Listening to Def Leppard I was not reminded of these two great songs, but both come to mind when I’m in an armageddon frame of mind.
There is a 12″ cover of the Willie Williams song, by the Clash, which I own, that goes beyond beyond. It doesn’t make me want to smoke pot, it makes me feel like I’ve smoked pot, and while the 7″ version that I found on YouTube is pretty great, it isn’t the best. While the original, which I have the 7″ of, too, is very very fine.
Patti Smith, of course. Though she screws up the armageddon line. But they’re in Sweden in 1976. Sweet.
I have been listening to some new stuff (Mountain Goats, Built to Spill) of late along with some older stuff (Rush, Lynyrd Skynyrd) and was sifting through time and thoughts trying to figure out what to post when the awful song, A Young Girl, by Noel Harrison popped into my mental playlist.
I hated that song then and it seemed perfect to post here under awful songs. so I went to trusty YouTube and found a pretty good clip of the song from the TV show Hullaballoo (which featured Petula Clark hosting).
Truth is the song was not as horribly awful as I remembered, but in the process I found this great Smothers Brothers clip that seems so perfect as we anticipate the Donald Trump/Ben Carson/Carly Fiorina Show/debate later tonight.
This is the Brothers at their political core and best, but Harrison is really pretty good, and all this reminded me that Rex Harrison’s progeny was also on the TV series The Girl From U.N.C.L.E..
Anyway, the “I told you so superior thoughts” that went with the sarcasm I planned for A Young Girl sort of dissipated and this is what you get.
For the archivists, here is the hit, that now reminds me of the great 1985 film by Agnes Varda, Vagabond.
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.
Louis Johnson was a bass player in the Brothers Johnson, a soul band my cohort made fun of back in the 70s because of the word Johnson.
Louis Johnson ended up being Michael Jackson’s bass player, which was no doubt a lucrative gig that landed him spots on many giant records.
Louis Johnson died this week, at the age of 60, which is frightening for those of us who wish to be immortal.
Now, after the fact, we can see that Louis Johnson added significant bass to a lot of songs. I can’t get past Strawberry Letter #23, which is an old Shuggie Otis song that the Brothers covered, and made a hit of.
Quincy Jones produced the Brothers Johnson’s Strawberry Letter #23, and, of course, produced all of Michael Jackson’s hits. Louis Johnson was there for all of that.
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.
I missed this loud performance of new songs on David Letterman last February. There is something tonic in hearing this much noise on mainstream TV, even if Mould’s melodies are so narrow that it’s hard to tell where one song starts and the other begins.
And that bass solo sounds a little too much like the theme from Friends for comfort, but the rest is as comfortably loud as Danzig on Mothers Day.
We all agree that great rock songs don’t need great lyrics. But sometimes I’m sucked in by a singer/songwriter who is clever and fresh lyrically, even if the music isn’t particularly distinctive or original or rocking.
Courtney Barnett is a bit of a critic’s darling right now, which is how I learned about her. Her lyrics are funny and probing, revealing and cleverly opaque, with enough pop sense to suck one in if one listens enough. Which I did, and now I’m a fan, even though as I listen I can’t help but hear the drone of Lou Reed in her delivery. And hearing that drone, I can’t help but think about the way Reed dressed his songs up in surprising and hard hitting ways, which Barnett doesn’t.
That puts her more in the neighborhood of all those 90s alt-rock bands, who didn’t really alt that much while not really rocking that hard. Bands/artists who lived on the sharpness of their lyrics.
So Leonard Nimoy was not so much rock’n’roll, but he did release eight (yes, eight) albums.
Leonard Nimoy Presents Mr. Spock’s Music From Outer Space.
Two Sides of Leonard Nimoy
The Way I Feel
The Touch of Leonard Nimoy
The New World of Leonard Nimoy
Space Odyssey
Outer Space/Inner Mind
Highly Illogical
Who knew? Who even heard?
Of course, we all remember William Shatner’s kitchy cover of Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.
But, the pair also cut a disc together, as you can see.
Still, there is no question of the influence of Star Trek and its characters on us boomers, and the cottage industry it spawned (I watched Next Generation and Voyager in addition to the original series).
There was also some music on the actual original Star Trek show, most of which was awful.
In honor of the life of the esteemed cultural icon, Spock, here is part of what was perhaps the worst episode, with some of the worst music. I do remember watching this when I was 16, and being half embarrassed, while half laughing my ass off.
But, Nimoy was indeed a mensch, as witnessed by his final message/Tweet, earlier in the week: “A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory.”
Irrespective, Live long and prosper, Nimoy. You were a good egg.
