Documentary Review: Nightclubbing: The Birth of Punk Rock in NYC

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2022
Images from the Internet, unless indicated

Nightclubbing: The Birth of Punk Rock in NYC
Directed by Danny Garcia
Chip Baker Films; Dudeski; MVD Entertainment
80 minutes, 2022
www.facebook.com/nightclubbingdoc

From 1975 through its closing in 1981, I was frequently a denizen of Max’s Kansas City, a club that had been open much longer than I had been attending, and was about a block north of the northeast end of Union Square Park, right on Park Avenue. The reason for my being there was not for the imbibition of alcohol, drugs or bathroom sex (all of which was concurrent with the scene), but I was there to hear the music.

Over the years, I attended a multitude of shows, supporting the venue in that way. The Heartbreakers, Wayne County and the Backstreet Boys, the Fast; heck, we interviewed thefreakin’ Ramones in the upstairs dressing room the night before they left for their first tour of the U.K. in July 1976.

Relatively early, after 10 PM, I would drive to the venue, usually finding a spot around the corner, being post-neighborhood suppers and pre-show times. I’d wait for my companions in front of the downstairs restaurant bay window, with a sill that had a 3-inch round sticker that read “Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jewboys” stuck to it for years.

I honestly don’t remember ever eating in the downstairs restaurant, nor managing to be cool enough to get into the infamous back room, but one of my writers, Nancy Neon, interviewed the Heartbreakers’ Walter Lure there the night they closed the back room down. 

Then came the walk up the long and broad staircase, manned at the top by the person taking the admission fee. Often, this was the patron saint of the club and booker, Peter Crowley. Occasionally, he would just let me in.

When walking into the main room, you were facing the middle of the bar, the walls surrounded by artfully placed photos of some of the larger names to come to the site, taken by the leading photographers of the scene.

To the right was a huge bay window overlooking Park Avenue (funny, I don’t remember ever seeing it in the daylight) and immediately to the right were the bathrooms, which had some quite raucous and humorous graffiti, such as intimations to DeeDee Ramone’s appendage offering.

Wayne County and the Backstreet Boys
(photo by Robert Barry Francos)

Entering the staging area, the DJ booth was to the left, and if you were lucky, it was a night when Wayne/Jayne County was spinning. In front was a row of dining booth, and then there were the long, vertical communal tables where you sat near whomever you sat nearby. The view of the stage was clear wherever you were. These tables were up against the stage, so there was usually no dancing (much to the chagrin and annoyance of Eddie and the Hot Rods, the night I saw them, with the Fast opening). Because we got there early, we would sit in the middle to get a great view, and order some fries and a beer. I don’t believe I ever had any of their infamous chick peas (I’m not a fan).

At the time I was attending Max’s, there were two venues that “invented punk rock,” both in rivalries, but they often had the top bands playing at both (e.g., the Ramones). They honestly (in my opinion) both deserve the title of birth of punk, though the other site gets more credit, and I believe that is because of a well-timed, on-air tee shirt worn by a member of Gun N’ Roses. However, Max’s was there first, open for proto bands like the New York Dolls, the Stooges, and the Velvet Underground, who were creating a scene half a decade before the other place.

The Fast (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

That is where Danny Garcia comes in. The man has a history of documentaries about nascent punk, such as Looking for Johnny: The Legend of Johnny Thunders (2014), Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy (2016), and STIV: No Compromise, No Regrets (2019), the latter about the lead singer of the Dead Boys.  

By this point, Garcia knows all the key players and assembles them to do this film version of an oral history that absorbs the viewer right from the start. The documentary begins with quick, unidentified clips of musicians and artists making comments, but this is the prologue. I recognized 90 percent of them.

Donna Destri (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

After respectfully setting up the idea that this was about Max’s and not CBGB, the history of Max’s early days is given, during its Andy Warhol phase and after, when the artistic elite – such as musicians, painters, and writers – all packed that small room, much to the delight of each other. Many a major record deal was signed in that hallowed spot. Musician Elliot Murphy makes a wise analogy connecting Max’s back room with the infamous Algonquin Round Table. This is off to an excellent start.

There are plenty of early clips of artists on the Max’s stage, focusing on the big ones like Alice Cooper, the Stooges, the VU, the New York Dolls, and even Sid Vicious (though that was later), who was both a regular there in his later days, and even played on its stage a number of times. Due to the age and technology, many of these clips are shown as B-roll over contemporary interviews with the likes of Cooper, or music bytes.

The Heroes/Heartbreakers (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

While there are other sources for the early days of Max’s (such as the book High on Rebellion: Inside the Underground at Max’s Kansas City by Yvonne Sewalll-Ruskin), this documentary is all truly fascinating; for me, however, the story ramps up for the second phase of Max’s, when the original owner Micky Ruskin gave way to different ownership by Tommy Dean, and then Crowley came on the scene to turn a restaurant that played music occasionally to a venue known mostly for the bands that would play there. At this point, there is a bit of a screed again CBGB (“…where the style of dress is different, and the attitude is different, and the presentation is different.”); CBs definitely finds its way into this story, but the primary focus is on Max’s.

Along with the obvious historical timelines, etc., part of what makes this documentary so compelling to me is the numerous side stories, such as DeeDee’s girlfriend trying to dismember the member mentioned above, or the fight between Jayne County and a very belligerent and drunk Handsome Dick Manitoba of the Dictators, and the schism it caused in the scene at the time. The almost Comix style animation used to highlight this little groundbreaking bout that would synergize the two clubs is spot on.

The Senders (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

The interviews are a large part of the story, but it does not feel overwhelming. There are a lot of talking over the live performances and still photos, and even, as mentioned above, the occasional animation. This keeps the focus on the oral history, without becoming tedious.

As with most documentaries that are heavy with interviews, there is a level of participation needed from the audience as to who the main characters are, even with the briefest of information given about them (name, name of band, for example). This is no issue with people like Cooper, or Billy Idol, HR (Bad Brains), Neon Leon, or even probably the amazing Lenny Kaye. But I wonder how the novice to the scene would know about some really important personalities, such as the lovely Singer/scenestress Donna Destri or Leee Black Childers (heck, I can’t even begin to list his accomplishments, they are so deep and varied to especially Max’s).

Eddie and the Hot Rods (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

There are dozens of people who are crucial to the music scene, presented in both contemporary and archival footage, including (but not only) Jesse Malin, Jimmy Zero (Dead Boys), Steve Stevens (Billy Idol Band), Harley Flanagan, Mickey Leigh, Penny Arcade, and arguably one of the biggest Max’s supporters over the decades and interesting musician in his own right, Jimi Lalumia. Archival footage includes some that have passed on too soon, like Leee Black Childers (d. 2014), Sylvain Sylvain (d. 2021), and Alan Vega (d. 2016), among others.

Presented is also some clips from live shows, such as Alice Cooper, the Testors, Ruby and the Rednecks, the Stooges, and a very fuzzy Sid Viscous. For those interested, and it should be anyone reading this, both the Stooges and Vicious footage are newly found and this is its premiere. I like that they mixed some bands that are unknown to the mainstream, along with some of the bigger names.

Ronnie and the Jitters (photo by Robert Barry Francos)

Overall, this is a riveting revival for Max’s (though the brief uptown Max’s revival is wisely ignored), and this is a bit rambling over the history in a way that keeps the interest rather than getting bogged down in logistics and historical timelines. And if one if into punk of that period, whether you were there or not, it is worth a watch. Maybe take some notes.

Meanwhile, the film will be opening up this summer teamed along with another new Garcia documentary, Sid: The Final Curtain, about Sid's adventures in New York between leaving the Pistols and his ridiculously unnecessary death. Sid has long been a topic of interest to Garcia; however, I am hoping at some point he will direct his skills towards a study on Jayne County, the Person Zero (along with Suicide’s Alan Vega) who – this film acknowledges in its opening – kick-started the whole New York City punk rock scene.

IMBD Listing HERE

Bonus:

DVD Review: The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973
Directed by Alec Lindsell
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual, 2010
107 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

Let’s get right down to it:

This is a British documentary, so you know which one of the three is getting the main focus. Okay, picture two pyramids next to each other. The one on the left is Lou Reed and the one on the right is Iggy. Balancing between them is a line connecting the two (that is Marc Bolan, mentioned often but not in detail). And finally there is the third pyramid of the “sacred” triangle, David Bowie, on top of it all. That is the vision presented here. Okay, I’m done. Naw, not really, as this is still an interesting – albeit somewhat skewed – vision of the three.

Let me quickly add here that I am totally impressed by the choice of interviews that have been selected for this doc, which is so much better than the Pearl Jam one in this series. But more on the talking heads later.

There’s no doubt that Bowie was influenced by Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, but that’s nothing new. Just listen to David Jones’ singing style around the Ziggy Stardust period, and it’s easy to see the progression from his earlier works. Personally, I’d rather listen to Reed’s take, but that’s just me, walkin’ on the wild side on a Sunday morning when comes the dawning.

There’s plenty of clips here of the Velvets; well, as much as there really is, which is limited, and taken by the Warhol crowd “artfully” (i.e., in fast speed) while in Exploding Plastic Inevitable mode (Gerard and his whip dance is often present). Bowie was still in folkie / cutsie mode when he first heard “Waitin’ for My Man,” and (rightfully) became a huge VU fan. An example given here is his “Toy Soldier,” which is such a – er – homage to “Venus in Furs,” it even quotes it in a few place, such as the line “bleed for me.” The video for the song has someone dancing with whips. And on “Black County Rock,” as explained in this doc, Bowie even imitates Bolan. MainMan publicist and photographer Leee Black Childers, who would later manage Iggy and then the Heartbreakers, states here that Bowie’s true talent is to know what to steal. In fact he said this and many of other the other bon mots he posits in a FFanzeen interview conducted by our own Nancy Foster (aka Nancy Neon) back in 1982 (reprinted here: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/02/portrait-leee-black-childers.html).

Andy Warhol is shown as possibly as big an influence as the VU, and to talk about the theatrics of the Factory and its influence on Bowie are the likes of the very wound up VU biographer Victor Bockris, the fabulous aforementioned Childers (who used to have one of the coolest motorcycle jackets ever, with an image of Gene Vincent painted on its back), the equally extraordinary Jayne County, smartly dressed in bright red Little Red Riding Hood mode (she even matches the couch!), 16 Magazine publisher (early on) and Ramones manager Danny Fields, and the Psychotic Frog himself (who was also one of Andy’s superstars), Jimi LaLumia. They paint a vivid picture of Lou and Andy’s influence on not only Bowie, but music in general. But Bowie is the main focus here, and in this case almost rightfully so, as Lee, Jayne, and Jimi were all hired by the Bow-ster to work with Tony DeFries and help run his production company, MainMan. One person seriously missing from the interview call list, though, is Cherry Vanilla, which is a serious deficit.

But the person of interest for me here, interview wise, is definitely Angela Bowie. A while back I found her kind of abrasive, but I must say that my opinion has totally changed, and I now I can see her as incredibly refreshing. She holds nothing back, and will tell the most intimate details at top volume. My apologies to you, for any negative thoughts I may have had in the past. But I digress…

Other interviewees include writers Paul Tryoka and Dave Thompson, and musician John Harlsen, who was a drummer on the Bowie-produced Lou Reed first popular solo effort, Transformer (as well as being Barry Womble, of the Rutles), which included his hits “Satellite of Love” and “Walk on the Wild Side.” They all paint a very detailed portrait of Bowie, and what effect Reed and Iggy had on him, and how Bowie had affected them. Also included are some short interviews (more likely called clips) with the key artists involved, such as Bowie (from 2001 and 2007), Lou Reed (1986), Iggy (1988), and just as importantly, Mick Ronson (looking extremely frail shortly before his death in 1993). There would arguably be no Bowie to the scale he achieved without Ronson as a musical driving force (rather than an influence, like Reed and Pop), I’m convinced.

Possibly one of Warhol’s biggest influences (and he really is as big as either Lou or Iggy in the David Jones pantheon) is the idea that “You’re a Star!” and if you act like it, people will come to believe and expect it. Even before the money, there was the wardrobe, the limos, the expense accounts, and all the trappings. LaLumia states it quite well when he relates that Bowie claimed that “I’m an actor. I’m not a musician. I’m portraying a rock star.” I can’t argue with that, as I’ve always found that Lou Reed was true to what he believed, as was Iggy totally committed to what he was doing, but Bowie was posing, rather than being. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never found him to be someone I’ve looked up to musically, especially in the reality of the punk days of the Ramones and the ilk.

While Iggy’s role in the Bowie history (and vice-versa) is more commonly known, there is much less about Iggy here than either Reed or especially Warhol. Bowie famously helped Pop both get off drugs and revive his career. For me, Bowie major force was in the studio as a producer, more than a vocalist, or especially as an innovator, as he was a series of influences creatively recast. Angela probably had as much to do with Bowie’s success as did David or Ronson – or even DeFries. And I won’t even detail Cherry Vanilla’s outreach program.

The added feature to the DVD is a seven-minute documentary called “The Nico Connection,” which shows how she had touched the lives of all three musicians that are the focus of the main feature. There is a bio for each of the contributors, and it put a smile on my face to see my pals the She Wolves given a shout out by Jayne County, as they’ve worked together over the past few years.

As a last note, I would like to add that after viewing this DVD, check out The Velvet Goldmine, which will then make so much more sense.


Bonus video

Tribute to a Mixed Tape: Weeeeeeeeird Music

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images and videos from Internet

There were lots of reasons to make mixed tapes – when it was still tape. When one hears about this phenomenon, it is usually something made as a gift for someone they are trying to impress, like a potential girlfriend. It was infamously one sided in that way, though I do admit that my then-girlfriend made me some powerful collections.

Most cars played cassettes (though some did 8-Tracks, but they were only pre-recorded), and I used to create my own to play in the car, especially since I haven’t found much reason to listen to a music channel (and the good ones, like WFMU, were hard to pick up then), especially since I was dating someone at a distance and needed to take long, long drives pretty often.

Just recently, I came across a tape I made in 1985, which I had labeled Weeeeeeeeird Music. It was only one side of the cassette, thereby coming in at 45 minutes, and I would like to share.

I have linked the songs at the end of each piece, if available online. Though I own all the music (in vinyl, of course), occasionally I have not been able to find the particular song because I can’t remember the artist’s name, so I have listed them as TBD. If anyone knows, inform me and I will update the blog. These are in the order they appear on the tape.

1. “Deteriorata” – National Lampoon’s Radio Dinner
Sometimes the spoof of a song can be better than the original. In this case it is true about this send-up of the meaningful and spiritual “Desiderata” by Max Ehrmann. The first starts off with “You are a child of the universe / You have a right to be here,” and continues on giving soulful advice to a hippie mind-expanded culture. The theme of “Deteriorata” is similar, but manipulates it (see end of this review) The advice sounds more like the mind of Comedian Steven Wright, with short, sloganesque bon mots like, “Go placidly amid the noise and waste / And remember what comfort there may be / In owning a piece thereof,” “Let not the sands of time get in your lunch,” and “Speak glowingly of those greater than yourself / And heed their advice / Even though they be turkeys.” The male, sonorous voice sounds fatherly or priestly, giving the off-kilter “Say what?” aspect even more power. Sample lyrics:
You are a fluke of the universe
You have no right to be here
And whether you can hear it or not
The universe
Is laughing behind your back
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1NAwlepnSs

2. “Magical Misery Tour” – National Lampoon’s Radio Dinner
Obviously recorded before the mellowing and then assassination of John Lennon, this is a scathing imitation of him spouting out his anger at the world for ripping him off (e.g., “I was the walrus! Paul wasn’t the walrus! I was just saying that to be nice, but I was actually the walrus!”). The song, sung by Tony Hendra in full Lennon mode, is full of vindictive comments about the Stones, Paul, George and Hare Krishna’s, his aunt, and Linda (or Lee?) Eastman. Only Yoko comes out looking well (“I’ll tell you why nobody likes her music / Because she’s a woman and she’s Oriental, that’s why!”). It’s painfully funny from beginning to end, though I know a lot of people who were angry with this. But as the song clearly states, “Genius is pain!” And the last line is an impersonation of Yoko presciently saying, “The dream is over…”
Look, I’m not your fuckin’ parents
And I’m sick of upside hippies coming a-knockin’ at me door
With a fuckin peace symbol
Get this, fuck that
I don’t owe you fuckers anything
And all I got to say is fuck you
The sky is blue!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clkX-x5UOK8

3. “Wop Muzik” – Eddy Gorodetsky and Tom Couch
A spoof of M’s “Pop Muzik,” this is accurate to the original, but the lyrics take a funny look at Italian stereotypes, which made it all the more amusing to me since I grew up in heavily Sicilian Bensonhurst. While making fun of this stereotype (though close enough to be offensive to some, especially those I knew from my youth, e.g., the ones throwing watermelons at Al Sharpton during his many marches through my neighborhood back then), it seems to be it is done in a jovial manner, rather than a mocking one: “Wanna be the next pope / Won’t be no-no / Domni Domni / Holy moley!” Sometimes satire can be so close it truly is hard to see the joke forest for the real trees.
Sacco and Vanzetti
Have some spaghetti
Play some bocce
Sing “Pagliacci”
Cosa Nostra, pizza parlor
Everyone’s talkin’ ‘bout…”

4. “Gaslight at The Ice House” – Pat Paulsen
Paulsen was a cast member of The Smothers Brothers show, but there is some funny solo material on his album, Live at the Ice House. He was known for his complete deadpan delivery (and yet, he often cracked himself up, and rightfully so). This is true with this off-the-cuff lovingly kidding of folk songs that really don’t say anything. He is pretty obviously making it up as he goes along in a sort of melodic sing-song monotone (yes, a true oxymoron), as he pauses to think about the next line and laughs about not only what he just said, but one gets the feeling, about where he’s going.
We ordered a cider and there was a cockroach in my glass
So I switched glasses
And you switched glasses
And the cockroach switched glasses

5. “Disco Jesus” – The Clap
I am certain there are people out there who are going to find this offensive. Probably the point. This is certainly one of the few disco songs I can tolerate, because I simply cannot listen to it without laughing. It’s just a standard, by-the-numbers disco tune with the whistles and all – what a friend of mine would call washing machine music (because it has the same woosh-woosh rhythm) – but the lyrics are something else. The singer wants to do the bump with Jesus and states, “so if you love to party / yeah, Jesus loves you.” It’s the mentions of his “golden coke-spoon and skin-tight bulging slacks” that will probably freak out some. Hopefully, if you believe in that kind of thing, Jesus had (has?) some kind of sense of humor. Please note that this is not the one on YouTube where someone dresses as Jesus dances to the Bee Gees.
Jesus he gets down
Comes to boogie He’s the boss
You oughta see him do the hustle
Upon that funky cross

6. “Walk With an Erection” – Swinging Erudites
Led by Johnny Angel of (City) Thrills and the underrated Blackjacks up in Boston, he put out two albums of comedy with this group. I once saw him at the Rat doing an amazingly funny lounge act of punk songs (somewhat later realized by Paul Anka’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit”). But here, his troupe takes on the Bangles hit, obviously changing the lyrics to fit the sophomoric notions they present. They aren’t mimics, per se, but they come pretty close to the original, making this all the more funny, especially with making light of Vicki’s whistling part.
Those college boys are true to form
They try to lure chicks into their dorm
They’re oozing sweat from every pore
They drop their drawers and ask for more
All the girls from BU they say “Hard on, hard on
Beg my pardon”
Walk with an e-rec-tion
MP3s for the Swinging Erudites can be found at www.myspace.com/theswingingerudites

7. “Jon Anchovi Sings: You Give Rock a Bad Name/Livin' On My Hair” – Swinging Erudites
Johnny Angel takes on the demigod-like (at least at the time he was) Jon Bon Jovi. He starts right off with “Shot through the ears / this tune’s so lame / We give rock / A bad name.” While matching the music quite accurately, Angel almost goes beyond the necessary to strike deep in the heart of Jovi lore. I don’t have a problem with it actually, as while I believe Jovi is a probably nice guy, but his music has always been…whatever. Angel leaves no stone unturned, blending the original song’s guitar solo into the key phrase of “Layla,” not just hinting of a “borrowing” (Boston-based musical comedian Blowfish did this also with Robin Trower and Jimi Hendrix). Whenever I hear “Living on the Air” now, I automatically “hear” this version in my head, and smile.
All the kids in the country know all our songs by heart
Like it or not
Oh, I’m a millionaire
Oh-oh, living on my hair
Take my advice and have it feathered and layered
Oh-oh, living’ on my hair

8. “Dead Skunk” – Loudon Wainwright III
This is one of the few songs in the collection that isn’t a take-off of another song. This was actually a semi-radio hit. Loudon was known for his quirky songs, like “Love to the Nth Degree,” and presented many of them on the first season of M*A*S*H and early Saturday Night Lives. This song is a non-sentimental, and yet respectful, look at what is left over when a skunk “didn’t look left and he didn’t look right.” Still, it is less nasty as, say, Tina Peel’s “Fifi Went Pop” (another great song, but not in this collection). Solid country and with Loudon’s unique voice, this is totally hummable. PETA must hate this.
Take a whiff on me, that ain’t no rose
Roll up your window and hold your nose
You don’t have to look and you don’t have to see
‘Cause you can feel it in your olfactory
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pprvp0Uujdg

9. “Kennedy Girls” – Little Roger and the Goosebumps
LR&tG (led by Roger Clark and Dick Bright) are better known for their “Stairway to Gilligan’s Island” (which can be found on YouTube), but I find this one to be more fun. Their dead-on interpretation of Neil Young’s “Cinnamon Girl” is hysterical. Sacrilege to some, but I see it as a funny and loving tribute, considering how musically adept they cover the song (same with “Stairway,” which totally offended a classic rocker I used to work with). One doesn’t go through the trouble to be this accurate with some appreciation of the original.
Sister or cousin don’t matter to me
On every branch of that family tree
There are Kennedy girls
Don’t care if she’s ugly her credit’s enough
They always carry plenty of green stuff
Those Kennedy girls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEe3BKCmwV8

10. “Eleanor Rigby” Jimi Lalumia & The Psychotic Frogs
Led by Long Island musician Jimi Lalumia, the Frogs did a total disrespectful makeover of the Beatles classic. More in a punk vein, they take a sort of Lou Reed-ish “Walk on the Wild Side” slice-and-dice, mixed with a Wayne (as he was then) County outrageousness, and tells the sick and twisted tale of Eleanor and Father MacKenzie. The listener knows they are in for something different with the opening line of “Ah, look at all you fuckin’ people.” But I want to add that with its entire shockability factor, which really is the main point here, it is so sick and twisted, that it is also humorous. Also, if you check out the video, read the comments underneath. Some people just take this stuff too seriously.
Eleanor Rigby scratches her crotch in a church where a wedding has been
She’s rather obscene
Down with her panties
She’s never been fucked but she knows some day that she will
So she’s on the pill
A live version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3cipi4ezTrQ

11. “I Got Fucked By the Devil Last Night” Jimi Lalumia & The Psychotic Frogs
For those who don’t know, the name of this band comes from a line by Wayne County in his song, “Max’s Kansas City.” Jimi Lalumia is a huge County fan, and this is the perfect example of his dedication. This song is different than any other in this list in that rather than shifting the lyrics to pervert the meaning, Jimi actually changes the lyrics back to their original. When County recorded this, he was forced to soften the title words to “Paranoia Paradise”; Jimi changes it back.
Late last night after I went to bed
I got a demonic feeling in my head
Something pulled my legs apart
And I felt it right up to my heart
I got fucked by the devil last night
He sure fucked the hell out of me
A live version, including Jayne County: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a6qGCde6d48

12. “Loco-Motion” – Christopher Milk
Christopher Milk was a band led by rock writer John Mendolsohn, and this was on their album, Some People Will Drink Anything. Basically the lyrics stay the same as on this classic ‘60s tune, but a total reinterpretation with a new bridge in the middle (such as Willie Alexander’s “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling”). When I’ve played this for people, they seem to want to scratch their heads in confusion. Definitely a cult thing from the ‘70s, the two main vocals toss between muddled and slurred with a nasal quality, and a sluggish bass, and bolstered by a pounding beat (especially on said bridge)
I want to see all my brothers and all my sisters out here
Doing the Locomotion with me
Where are you brothers and sisters?
C’mon

13. “Satisfaction” – The Residents
One way to look at it is that the Residents are to rock’n’roll what Miles Davis was to jazz. Lots of dissonance, distortion, noise, and sheer “What the hell?” I have emptied more than one party by playing this cut. One has to hear this a number of times to truly appreciate its sheer mania. Pre-industrial, but they left their mark as an influence. And it is long, though not as much as fellow travelers, impLOG. The video on YouTube sounds completely different, by the way. Oh, and my single is on yellow vinyl!
Not a clue…

14. “Fluffy” – Gloria Balsam
This is done kind of straightforward, but under the…er…capable hands of comedian Gloria Balsam, it has its own aura. Out of San Francisco, this is pure experimental pop. Gloria sings a treaclely song about finding, losing, and then re-finding her dog. I really can’t tell if this is some kind of tribute to her dog, or just a comedy bit, but I gotta say I love this song, from the first time I heard it. Glorida does not exactly have a great voice, but that’s all part of the appeal, especially on the parts that are too high for her voice and comes out kind of as a shriek. Wish she had done more. While I proudly own the original single, Dr. Demento also (and wrongfully) has this on collection, The Worst Records Ever Made. Sacrilege!
Here Fluffy, where are you, where ARE you?
Oh, how much you mean to MEEEEEE
A live version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJ2ndH84JOs

15. “A Blind Man’s Penis” – John Trubee
The story behind this is as interesting as the song itself. John Trubee found an ad in the back of a magazine stating that if you send in a poem, for a fee they’ll send it back as a C&W song. He came up with the most bizarre, psychotic, collection of sentences he could thing of and sent it off. This is what came back. The only line they edited was changing “Stevie Wonder’s Penis” to its present title. With straight deadpan, the able country singer twangs over a standard pre-recorded tinny keyboard. What makes this especially fun is that voice and the contradiction of the lyrics he is singing. This record is brilliant.
The zebra spilled his plastic seed on Venus
And the gelatin fingers oozed electric marbles
Ramona’s titties died in hell
And the Nazis want to kill, to kill everyone
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vFFewvHwEY