When discussing cult legends, certain names continually come up, like
Alex Chilton, Nick Drake, Willie Alexander, and for those in the know, British
musician John Otway is up on that list. His fans are fanatical and essentially
paid for this documentary, for which I am grateful to be able to finally catch
up on viewing.
Y’see, I interviewed the dude in
New York for my ‘zine FFanzeen back
in 1980 (HERE),
and more recently (relatively) reviewed his second autobiography (HERE).
He’s a charming dude whose skills include amazing live performances, lyrics
that can be either completely deep and emotional or simply silly and whack-a-doodle,
and he’s an expert in manipulation. I mean that, of course, in a totally
respectful and admiring way. But more on that later.
While most of what is covered in this documentary is also in the book I
reviewed, there is a difference. First, let me state that the autobio is a
great read, and recommend it either way, as Otway ha a sharp turn of a phrase.
But the opening minutes of the documentary show why this film is so special
when he see him performing his signature hit, “Beware of the Flowers ‘Cause I’m
Sure They’re Gonna Get You (Yeah),” in front of a huge hometown crowd in Aylesbury,
outside London, in 1978. There ae a lot of performances here, and if I may be
so bold, perhaps a compilation of live shows over the years for a next project?
Having seen him play in New York, I know he’s an exciting performer. And
at the time I interviewed him (the day before he played) I learned that yeah,
he can be a bit of a (in his own words) prat. He had rock star idealism and
especially an ego that both served him well and also helped torpedo what might
have been a solid career. He worked against his own self-interests by focusing only on his self-interests in the past,
isolating his partner at the time, the appropriately titled guitarist Wild
Willie Barrett.
Let me digress here a moment… In the late 1990s, I saw a “Teen Idol”
show. The opening was Bobby Sherman, who had a moment of stardom only to have
it fade quickly. He was gracious and really happy to be there. The middle act
was Davy Jones (d. 2012), someone who had a similar path, but was obviously
bitter to the point where the person next to me started to cry.
My point is, Otway falls somewhere in the middle. When I interviewed him
way back when, I had (and have) no issues with him at
all. If the fame had stuck, who knows where his ego would have taken him; I
imagine not to good places, considering what he did with his first Polydor
paycheck, as shown in this film. However, with his being a “rock and roll
failure,” his perspective is different than when we met, and he seems (to this
viewer) to appreciate what he has, rather than expecting it.
The arrogance part has transformed into something else: exuberance, which
I would more accurately call chutzpah.
By accepting and embracing his fate as a “rock and roll failure” (much as
Leonard Nimoy did with Spock), this opened up a whole new world of
self-promotion that led him to rent out some of the biggest and prestigious halls
in England to perform in as marketing himself (and yet real gigs), and sell
them out. Once the Internet opened in the early 1990, Otway was one of the
first musicians to not only embrace the technology, but used/uses it to his own
advantage in, again, self-marketing. Brilliant albeit scary stuff to his
(again) management, who knew that if it didn’t work, the finances would be disastrous.
But they did it and most of the time succeeded.
Watching the film, you can see the sparkle in Otway’s eyes as even he is amazed at what he has gotten away
with over the years. And it seems like as scary as it was/is, he is enjoying it
wholeheartedly. My question, and of course there is no way to know this, is if
his success had been ongoing rather than a very bumpy road, would he still be
so appreciative?
Otway uses his teaching of a music business class at the Grange School in
Aylesbury as the framework for the film, going back and forth between his
lecture that is frank yet fun and informative, and additional interviews with
himself and others, some of which are archival, though most are for the
documentary. Nearly all these are with first-hand people, such as musicians who
played with him like Wild Willie and Steve Harley, his management team that has
worked hard to help Otway meet most of his outrageous dreams, media
personalities like Bob Harris of the “Old Grey Whistle Stop,” and various
producers, including the great John Peel and Neil Innes. Mixing my metaphors,
that’s just scratching the iceberg.
By far, though, it’s Otway’s fans – and this focuses more on those in
England of course – that have saved his ass on numerous occasions (and I mean
that in the best of ways), helping him finance his dreams, fill the halls, and
give him a 50 birthday present of a second Top 10 hit 25 years after his first
in 1978. He even let the fans choose which song to put into the stores (they
chose disco-ish “Bunsen Burner”; I would have picked “Too Much Air, Not Enough
Oxygen”)
Documentaries can be a bit dry, but this one is episodic to the point of
being epic, and there is absolutely not a minute that is wasted, even when it’s
just people talking. The projects, the ambition, the successes and the failures
are all part of a complex musical life of someone who is a bit manic, bold, and
exceedingly talented.
The following interview with British musician John Otway was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #6, in 1980. It was conducted by RBF.
In celebrating the release of John Otway’s second book, I Did It Otway (2010), which is reviewed in the blog directly below this one, I have pulled out my old interview with the man from 1980.
Interviewing and meeting England’s John Otway was another bonus from my association with publicist Janis Schacht. To be honest, I never heard of him until she passed him along to me, first in the form of his Deep Thought album, recorded with then hetero soul-mate and usual collaborator “Wild” Willy Barrett, whose split was imminent. Since none of his previous music had been released in the United States, this one by Stiff Records was a compilation of some of his earlier material, mixed with some new recordings.
It’s kind of hard to describe Otway’s style of music, except to say that is reminiscent of Boston, Massachusetts’s Willie Alexander. Both men have a distinctive and yet somewhat similar vocalization and arrangement style that is non-status quo, with variously elongating and contracting vowels, while playing with pitch, tone, and timing. They also both have been known to take covers and totally transform them into their own (Alexander with “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling,” Otway with “Cheryl’s Going Home,” for example). Unfortunately, the one thing they both have most in common is that they both never really rose above a cult level in North America, though both were signed to major labels at one point in their career (and both have a stronger fan base in Europe).
Taking Alan Albramowitz with me to the Ritz on the night he was to play, we talked to him after the soundcheck. He is an affable man whose humor is strong both on and off the stage. ‘Attaway Otway! Issue 6, Year-end 1980
John Otway, out of Alyesbury, England, has had three tours in the United States. The first two times, the response was only fair, due mainly to his previous recordings being on private labels, or only available in England. The States knew very little of him. This time around, he appeared with an album called Deep Thought, just out on Stiff Records. It is a wonderful release which has covers of Bob “Elusive Butterfly” Lind’s “Cheryl’s Coming Home” and Gene Pitney’s “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.”
After a tempestuous childhood of torment and fear, Otway struck out of Alyesbury to seek life as a performer – the wilder the better. He and childhood friend/musician Wild Willy Barrett started recording their own material and was later helped by Pete Townshend’s production wizardry on two of their songs, “Louisa On A Horse” and “Murder Man” (both of which appear on Deep Thought).
When he left home, he was an unknown, and more or less the town joke of Alyesbury. Not having the capital to go it alone, he worked as a dustbin man – or garbage collector – where he would sing in the streets as the cans rattled. Once again, he was not taken seriously. The change came when his mum and dad mortgaged their home to pay of his first recording. He has since paid them back and come back a town hero, putting Alyesbury on the musical map, after many a tour and a documentary film based on his stage appearances.
Alan Abramowitz and I caught up with him at the Ritz, September 16, 1980, backstage before his set, as he rolled his own (tobacco) cigarettes.
FFanzeen: Why does it seem that so many rock’n’rollers have had trouble as a kid? John Otway: I think it sort of gives you a fighting start. It seems that all the kids that have had it easy in school, and always good in sports and things, always end up in the most boring, downbeat jobs in the world. The kids I knew who had problems, they all did something interesting – they had to go find themselves interesting jobs.
FF: Why did you have such problems? Otway: I don’t know. I think it was a number of things. One was the way I looked. I was always a bit gamy, which didn’t help. I had a bit of a speech impediment, and they used to call me smelly and things. I remember when I was about 14, suddenly everything changed; everything that had been a complete disadvantage suddenly started to be an advantage. Instead of finding it to be a disadvantage to be rack and ruins, I started finding it to be an advantage, because people knew you ... and so I was probably playing on being even more smelly. Looking even more gamy. Dressing in a sort of way that would attract attention.
FF: In what way did this effect your view of music? Otway: It made me an exhibitionist. The big show. It essentially came out on stage in terms of playing songs straight and then, if there was something I could do that would get a bit more applause or shock and get a better reaction, then I’d do it – like ripping my shirt off and crawling across the stage – bursting into tears. Everything. At that time I was doing a lot of folk clubs and things and, well, it may have been acceptable in a rock medium to sort of run around the stage and sort of terrorize the audience; in folk clubs, that certainly wasn’t the case. Then, what I had was just an acoustic guitar, which I couldn't even tune.
FF: What tunes did you play? Otway: I started off playing a lot of Dylan songs. I ended up generally writing because to find something I actually found comfortable with, I found easiest to write, rather than search out something to do. As far as writing is concerned, that didn’t come about through a necessity of finding something to perform, it was more of a desire to actually write songs.
FF: This is digressing a bit, but in the bio that Stiff gave out, it says you did “dangerous athletic feats,” which got me curious. Care to clarify? Otway: When I was ... 13 or 14, I started doing things like picking fights with the biggest kid in the school. I’d really make a mess of me and my face, and do it to attract huge audiences. Especially to advertise the fact that, even if you pick a fight with a huge bully, you could clear the whole school playground, who would come to see you. They’d come just to see you get completely paddled. Things like downing a bottle of ink in one, you know, you could sort of guarantee an audience of at least 200 just to see you do it. Then I was into things, like really dangerous stunts on canal bridges over solid concrete, sort of 50 or 60 feet in the air. Just that sort of thing – completely stupid things. I was a compete showoff. A couple of tours ago, I was taking 10-foot scaffolding towers around and doing tightrope walks. It was a relief that I didn’t carry on doing that because I thought, “With the next tour you’d have to take 15 foot scaffolding towers and the next 20 and then, one day, you actually are going to kill yourself, so ...”
FF: What musical instrument did you pick up when you played in your school orchestra? Otway: Violin, really. I studied classical violin for seven years. I was awful at it. I was in the orchestra for a little while. I’d just make sure that I was bowing in the same direction as the orchestra and the bow was a quarter-inch from the strings. I use it a bit on stage now, but my style of violin playing goes more for what it looks like than what it sounds like.
FF: And guitar. Otway: My guitar playing is basically straight chords. The way I play, there’s really nothing to it, but my violin playing is really quite good – when it’s in tune.
FF: How did you get together with Wild Willy Barrett? Otway: Well, we both came from the same town. Willy lived about 150 yards from me. In terms of ambition, I think we were the two most ambitious people in town. Willy, being a great musician, started playing (guitar) when he was four. He was sort of the musical hero – I mean, everybody in town admired the way he played – me, the complete joke. The reason we got together is, I just think Willy sort of admired what I did and I admired what Willy did. We just sort of found something we enjoyed doing – meanwhile I was writing as well. He was always into being a producer and arranging stuff. Being such a small town, you just stared working with people you know.
FF: Aylesbury is about 25 miles out of London? Otway: About 50. It’s got a little club called Friars. It’s a good club.
FF: I know it was obviously for the money, but why did you become a garbage collector? Otway: The reason why I did it – I don’t know, I hated all the other jobs I tried. It took me six years to actually make a living out of performing. I hated office work. I also fancied that it was good for my career. I started off with the idea of being a loo attendant. I always thought it would be great later on to say that I was a lavat’ry attendant for two years. Convenient job.
FF: Sort of “from the toilet to the toilet.” Otway: The jokes were endless, but I couldn’t do it to my parents. I mean, you can just imagine people going up to my mum and saying, “Oh, what what’s John doing now?” “Oh, he’s working at lavat’ries ... He’s working at the loos.” A garbage collector is sort of an acceptable step for me, and I thought my parents could live with that. Also, it was a handy job since it finished about two in the afternoon. That way I could get a basic gig anywhere in the country.
FF: And you could sing in the streets. Otway: Actually, I wrote about three songs when I was working the dustbins. Walking up to collect the garbage. It was sort of a standard joke on the cart that I sang all the time.
FF: The first album you did, John Otway & Wild Willy Barrett [1977], was on a private label. How well did it sell? Otway: We didn’t really go for that long. It was sold for about two weeks. Because it was selling well, Polydor took it up. We made a deal with them and they took over the record as it stood. We were over at Track Records just before that, and they put out our single, “Louisa On a Horse.” We wanted to do an album and we kept arguing about who would produce it. Eventually we borrowed some money and went into a studio and put it out on our own. We took the album to Track Records and they heard it and fired us on the spot. And so we called our label Extracked. And Track went bust about six months later, which was quite good.
FF: How did you get hold of Pete Townshend? Otway: Long time before that ... in the early ‘70s, I did a few demos with Willy. And a couple of them turned out really good. It was just ... with one overdub. I pressed around 500 records because I’d always found records easier to deal with than tapes to send them around and sell them in the shops, get your money back and things. Pete Townshend got hold of one through a friend of Willy’s. He just sort of got in touch and said, would we like him to produce a few tracks for us, and so we said “Yes.” A week later, we were in the studio ... The interesting thing is that I was not a Who fan at all before I worked with Townshend. In fact, a friend of mine who was a huge Who fan, was sort of fanatical about it. I was always having big arguments with him, saying that the Who were just a back-up band. I always hated the Mods and I still do. I was sort of horrified when it came out that Townshend was working with us. But it was good in a way because ... he wasn’t like a big hero and I could really appreciate what he did working with us in the studio, because he’s ridiculously talented. He’s got great ears as well. As a producer, he was an exceptionally hard-working professional. I came out with bloody more admiration than not liking him before.
FF: It’s kind of strange that one of the tracks he did, “Louisa On a Horse,” sounds almost country and western. Otway: That’s because both me and Willy came out of folk clubs, really, rather than rock music. I did that largely because the best places to go to is folk clubs so you can take your guitar and do a few songs. Willy was doing folk clubs, as well as bluegrass stuff ... “Murder Man” and “Louisa On a Horse” are based on country stuff. We just picked up electric guitars (four years ago). We were playing in England at some New Wave clubs, playing sort of punk versions of “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” with electric banjo. Sort of this really aggressive country music. All the punks used to love it – pogo to it. Especially when this punk thing started, a lot of people took themselves (too) seriously.
FF: And they still do. Otway: This is great, that they’ve sort of picked out this niche ...
FF: Do you find it strange to come in to the New Wave from the folk side rather than the rock side? Otway: I suppose it is because, essentially, I have no great love for rock’n’roll. There’s quite a bit I like, but there’s not general love for it. My love was performance in that particular style of music.
FF: I guess that’s why the media call you a “pop” star rather than a “rock’n’roll” star. Otway: I prefer to be a pop star because when I was a kid about nine, I decided what I was going to do. We (made) heroes of people like Cliff Richards and stuff. Little nine-year-old kids. Well, I basically set out the rules for my life that I was going to be famous. I took pictures of my hero and he was what I wanted to be like. It was my first ambition, and you never sort of lose that. I wanted to be a pop star ...
FF: Was “Cor Baby That’s Really Free” released in the United States? Otway: No, the only thing that was released in America before the Stiffs, MCA released one of the Townshend things, around ’73. I don’t think it got any sort of push or anything. MCA released “Murder Man.”
FF: On Stiff’s Deep Thought album, it was just called “Really Free.” Otway: In England it was “Really Free” as well. In the package, they put “Cor Baby That’s Really Free.”
FF: How were you approached to do your TV documentary, The Dustbin Man? Otway: The director came backstage once. He was looking at the club ‘cause he was gonna do a documentary on the club and I was on that night. I explained that I did a free concert every year (in Alyesbury) and this year I was doing one in the market square.
FF: 1,500 people showed up. Otway: Yeah. He just really liked the idea of the sort of local guy who comes up in this home town and sort of comes back to conquer it. He closed down all the roads in the center of the town and takes over for a day. I sort of explained that I was doing that.
FF: So it turned out instead of him doing a documentary about a club ... Otway: It ended up being a documentary about ...
FF: About you. Otway: Yeah.
FF: Great. How did it go over? Otway: It was really good. I thought it was a really good documentary just because most documentaries of rock music or rock musicians tend to sort of have a lot of backstage footage. They tend not to deal with an everyday sort of (subject) or probe too much apart from the music, where our documentary wasn’t really about the music, it was more about a person. Whether that person be good or bad, I thought it was an honest look at what I was doing.
FF: Do you know if it’s going to be released in the United States? Otway: I hope so ... Something this great should make it.
FF: Totally objective, I’m sure. [laughs] Otway: I might be a little biased. (My comment on the film) is praising the director more than it’s praising me.
FF: That’s film. What about video? Otway: I want to do some work with it. I really feel the rock industry is dying and I think it’s seen its best days and I do think more visual art forms will (be used) in the next couple of years.
FF: Do you have any videos of the songs you’ve already done? Otway: No, but I sort of intend to try and get the record company to get in the habit of making a video very time I record a song.
FF: I’d love to see one for “D.K.50/80” (from Deep Thought). Otway: It was (released as a) 45 in England just before we came a-ways.
FF: The background vocal is, my guess, backwards and speeded up. Otway: Well, it’s backwards, but not speeded up. It’s two girls from a band called Sausage. They had had a song called “K.D. 80/50.” It’s quite a rude song, but we just use the chorus, which isn’t too rude. When you play the turntable backwards, it goes “K.D. 80/50 / You’re so nifty / K.D. 80/50 / You’re so nifty / Tie her up / Tie her down / Turn her over / Turn her ‘round.” The first verse of that song went “Big tits, bondage and belts / You name it, anything else.”
FF: I figured out just about the entire second stanza of “D.K. 50/80.” About Cinderella ... Otway: “Cinde / Cinde / Rella / Rella / Type her / Type her / Letter/Letter ... invite all your sister to the dance / You would like to go / But still you never get the chance.” [www.we7.com/#/song/John-Otway/DK-50-80]
FF: Do you do that song live? Otway: No, I haven’t done it this tour. We did a tour in England to promote the single and we did it. We had Willy singing backwards.
FF: Is Willy with you this tour? Otway: No. He’s getting more and more into production. He’s starting his own record label, which is good ‘cause he’s really happy doing that.
FF: Will he still be backing you at all? Otway: Yeah, I really like working with Willy ... the first time we split [1979], it showed us the position where if I just wanted to do something or wanted to do something together, we can do it and if we want to do it on our own we can do it on our own. We’re not into any intention of working together, which is good ‘cause we can work together when we want to.
FF: How was the reaction to your last two tours across the United States? Otway: It was good. It was hard to do it without a record deal; we only just got the Stiff deal. I mean, things like, the first time we played Minneapolis, we played to 15 people. The second time we played, around 100, 150 to 200 people turned out. I mean, it’s working, but it’s the slow way to doing it.
FF: The promotion for this tour (monikered “In Your Livingroom”) was excellent. An EP of “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” without vocal tracks stuck in with regular ones and whomever picked it, you sang it to them in their living room. Otway: A ridiculous idea.
FF: It’s ridiculous but I think it’s an ingenious one. A twelve year old kid won it? Otway: Yeah. That’s why I’m on the news tonight on Channel 7 [ABC-TV]. The 11 o’clock news tonight. We were all crammed with this kid in his room. It was great.
FF: There is a very sharp sense of humor to your music. Why is humor so important in rock’n’roll (e.g., Dictators, Deaf School, The Quick, John Entwhistle)? Otway: Humor is very important to me. It’s such as good weapon because you could be so much more aggressive, so much more biting. You can get a point so much more if there’s an element of humor on it, because humor can be that much more tragic than something serious can be.
FF: Do you think there’s more humor in British music because of the Music Hall tradition? Otway: Yeah, I think so. There is sort of a tradition going right back. The humor is different from American humor as well ... One of my favorite people is, like, [Monty Python’s John] Cleese. He’s higher in my esteem than rock stars. He’s just so bloody funny. Sometimes it’s so bloody cutting as well. I mean, it’s not just because you laugh at him, sometimes it really hurts ... I picked humor because I couldn’t stand being on stage and not getting a standing ovation. I was also the sort of person that people laughed at anyway. I capitalized on it.
FF: On Deep Thought, you have one side of new songs, one of old. Otway: We did it to keep this album separate from the last three [John Otway & Wild Willy Barrett, Deep and Meaningless, and Way/Bar]. But also, the next album will be put out on Stiff on both sides of the Atlantic. This album is largely to keep this side of the Atlantic up to date with England.
FF: The album won’t be released in England? Otway: No. Maybe at some stage [I’ll] do a double album which basically covers the rest of the material that was released over there.
FF: Are you going to do a live album? Otway: People keep asking and I keep thinking, maybe, maybe not. I got an idea of doing a double album with a studio album and throwing in a live album ... The live act is essentially me. So much of it is visual, like knocking mikes together and things. If you don’t know they’re two mikes knocked together at this particular point, it sounds like a bang.
FF: While that’s up, do you think people come to see you for the theater, or ... Otway: People sort of try to make that part of me a comedian, but as I said, to me it’s a veritable weapon as well. Things that are funniest to me are sometimes the saddest, as well. I don't just think in terms of straight comedy at all ‘cause I can’t tell a joke.
FF: I know you like to roll off the stage, but you wouldn’t do that here, would you [the stage of the Ritz is more than five feet off the dance floor – ed.]? Otway: Just before I came here, I just dived from the stage – seven feet into the air – and I dived as if I were diving into water. Just sort of threw out my hands and rolled over. I really crippled my back for the next three days. I was limping. I couldn’t sit down, couldn’t lie down. It was horrible.
FF: Then I really doubt if you’ll try it tonight. Otway: I don’t know. I’m sort of one of these people that never learns. You always say, “No, of course not” and then when it comes to a performance, you always feel you can do anything. You’re completely fearless. There’s been a couple of times I’ve really, really crippled up because you hit the same part of your body every night and so you got this great bloody red bruise there. It really hurts. It’s been hurting all day, and you go on stage and somehow you do it again, in exactly the same place. You don’t think about it and then you walk off the stage and it suddenly hurts.
FF: It’s the excitement, the adrenaline ... Otway: Yeah, the adrenaline.
Alan: I was looking through a copy of People while on line at a supermarket and you were in there. Otway: Oh yeah, I saw that. That’s the one where they showed the supermarket and things like that. The camera showed the disbelief in their faces.
Alan: They praised you well. Otway: I was quite shocked. I’ve been quite lucky. With all this press on it, it took a really long time before the really negative stuff started coming. Of course, occasionally – I think NME (New Musical Express) reviewed the first album in one word: “Tragic.” And that was the review.
FF: Do you realize you are one of the few people who use those papers to roll tobacco? Otway: I always feel guilty if I buy cigarette papers over here. And trying to get tobacco is a joke. We’ll I’m going back [to England] tomorrow.
FF: This is the end swing of your tour, then. Alan: How much tape is left? Otway: I think in half the interviews I’ve done on this tour the tape machine hasn’t worked.
FF: This is one of the few times it has. Otway: My luck must be turning.
John Otway really pisses me off sometimes. He bills himself as “Rock and Roll’s Greatest Failure!” but just as the Rolling Stones calling themselves (started by their stage manager) the “Greatest Rock’n’roll Band in the World,” both are ridiculous because there is no one of either extreme as they are both too subjective descriptors.
Otway’s career has had its peaks and valleys so far, that is certain, and some have been spectacular in both directions, but many of them are been positive. I know too many struggling independent musicians who have not even come close to achieving what Otway has in his 30+ year career. Also, John has recorded some incredible music over this period, achieved an impressive and fanatical fan base that supports him playing in the UK at theaters (as well as pubs and living rooms), and right out of the gate in the ‘70s, he had a top 30 hit with the deserving “Cor Baby That’s Really Free” (and he is correct in that his probable second hit was mistakenly put out as the b-side, “Beware of the Flowers [Cos I’m Sure They’re Gonna Get You, Yeah], rather than its own single).
Yes, Otway is sometimes a lunkhead in his decisions, but a failure? To quote his own song, “Headbutts,” “not likely.” In my opinion, there are way too many artists who are under the radar who deserve more, and have not achieved what Otway has – again, sometimes in a extravagant fashion, as this book proves.
That being said, I also have to confess that I am one of those fans, though I’ve never joined one of his many fan databases (e.g., www.otnews.net), and I don’t own his complete catalog, but what I do have I enjoy immensely. From the first time I saw him play in New York in the ‘80s, heard his (then) vinyl from right around the time of his unfortunate split (there’s one of those lunkhead moments I mentioned earlier) with collaborator and guitarist Wild Willy Barrett, and getting to actually interview the man when he was on Stiff Records, I’ve had a warm spot in my heart (and ear) for the crazed, manic ex-garbage collector from Aylesbury, UK.
John was riding high in the very early ‘80s with, as he describes at length in his book simply as “The Hit,” when his career hit a speedbump, due in part to his own bad choices. He describes this period in his first cleverly titled book (which I have not read – yet, but it is apparently in the failure of its fourth printing), Cor Baby, That’s Really Me, initially released in 1996. If that one is as fun as this one, I definitely need to check it out.
Though autobiographical, John writes this (and the previous one) in extreme third person, including quoting himself rather than just saying “I” or “he.” Often he is smilingly self-depreciating, such as his discussion of his song, “Three Kinds of Magic.” On page 155, he writes:
[Bandmember] Murray [Torkidsen] wasn’t alone in thinking this particular song was not one of John’s better pieces of writing, the rest of the band thought it as well. But they had two problems. One, since [the popularity of the song] “Bunsen Burner” John “would not listen”…
On page 152, he admits that “Otway was ‘T-shirt led’ meaning that if something looked good on the T-shirt and tour jacket, then that’s what you should try and do.”
The essence of the book is to detail four or five events that took place from the time of the previous book into the mid ‘00s, including (but not only) the attempt to sell out Albert Hall, get a Top-10 hit (so he could say “the Hits” rather than the lonesome “the Hit”) for his 50th birthday, get voted as one of the best lyricists in the last 2000 years on a BBC poll, and complete a world tour and film documentary about the event. Both success and failure are included in the book, which keeps the reader riveted, especially for those of us in North America who could not follow the proceedings, which were often covered by the British media (I have to ask, would this happen to a failure, whether an attempt succeeded or failed?).
The book sounds like he talks, using British colloquialisms (e.g., “whilst”), and a devilishly sharp sense of humor, again, especially at his own expense. For example in describing his moving houses with his partner Karen and their daughter Amy, he states, on page 80:
: …Their new home had a loft conversion which John could have as an office: it was two floors up from the living room and kitchen and if all doors were closed you would never know he was there. “Heaven,” agree the two girls in his life.
I so respect that John appreciates his fans, as is quite evident. Throughout the book he is happy to name the individual people on-line who have given him help or an idea, and when he recorded an audience 1,000 people (over three sessions) at Abby Road Studios to heckle him during “House of the Rising Sun,” he actually names each one of them in both the record booklet and in an Appendix in the back of the book (though it’s not completely altruistic, as he admits, with a smile, that listing the names probably means that each one of them will buy a copy). Oh, and his story about the recording session at the infamous studio and what he asked the person showing them around, is priceless.
Okay, this is neither here nor there and totally my opinion, and I’m happy for John with the eventual outcome, but c’mon, a disco “Bunsen Burner” (which would also have made a great pop song: “Let me be your Bunsen burner / Let me be your naked flame”)? Not that I even want to hear the disco “Beware of the Flowers,” but John has so many other great songs from that period, some of which were contenders in his “pick one” contest, such as the excellent “Poetry and Jazz,” “God’s Camera,” and the joyous slideback to his earlier style, “Too Much Air Not Enough Oxygen.” All of them are way better than “Bunsen Burner.” And yet, if I was knowledgeable at the time, and my vote would have counted, I would have bought the damn single. That being said, I truly recommend anyone getting one of his Greatest Hits CDs to see what I mean.
There are glossy photos in two sections, and in the back are informational appendixes, and sections that were cut out of the main storyline that are just as interesting (though I understand why they were excised). This fun and fascinating book about trying to make “it” is almost a sit-com script, with a bit of mystery thrown in (will he or won’t he?), making it all the more enjoyable and intriguing. It truly is a fun read, and yes, I say read the lunkhead, but if you call him a failure in front of me, prepare to debate the point.
This was another tape made for some long drives I was making at the time. As always, I have tried to find the original release of the song as it appears on the tape, and if that’s not possible, a live version. However, much of the music I listen to is indie stuff, so it’s kind of hard to find.
Oh, and FYI, I strong resent and hate the new ads that are popping up on video sites like Vevo and YouTube. SIDE ONE
Cadallaca – The Trouble with Public Places
Closely associated with Sleater-Kinney, this Cali trio has a great alt-indie sound that’s sharp, in both intelligence and beat. The live version of the song below (mine is off the studio CD EP) is hard to make out, but it tells of being pestered by some drunk (or druggie) while waiting for a band to show up, leaving the question of whether go home to get away from this tool and miss the band, or stay and be annoyed. I loved this song from the first time I heard it, and still do. Best cut on the EP. myspace.com/cadallaca
Mike Brown and the Sneakies – Fuck You
While the whole CD is great rock’n’roll in a bar/garage format, this song is a killer. It starts off with a callous phone message from the girlfriend telling the singer she’s leaving him, while bragging she’s been “lying and cheating…so, fuck off.” This song is the response, and it’s so well written, with lines like “Fuck you and your suicide sidekick / Fuck you as you both spiral down / I’m through with the lies and the bullshit / I won’t be there when you both hit the ground.” There’s a very catchy chorus that has to go through the mind during a break-up after the listener has heard it. myspace.com/mikebrownandthesneakies
Syd Straw – Think Too Hard
Syd was in the Golden Palominos, among other collectives, and has a great rock-meets-country sound. Surprise, the album this cut is taken from, though, is solid pop (with a country flair). Lots of pounding rhythm, gloss studio work, and I think a weakening of a great sound. That being said, there are a couple of really good cuts on it, including the Michael Stipe joined “Future Forties”, and especially this one. It’s a foot pounder, for sure, and manages to show Syd’s unique range. Sadly, I couldn’t find the video that goes with it, which is directed by Diane Keaton, of all people (who also did her “FF”) . sydstraw.com
Mystic Eyes – Turn and Kiss Me Goodbye
There are a number of compilations that feature the Mystic Eyes, and this is one that made it onto the Lonely Planet Boy comp, but not either of their (excellent) albums. This tune's a rip roarin’ number, with Bernie Kugel getting’ all in your face, with a scream of “We’re the Mystic Eaaayyyeeeeezzzz.” As with most of Bernie’s songs, there are a couple of amazingly great written lines, one such as in this case “I see your face / I see your eyes / The genius things / That only I surmise.” And, as is usual with a BernieTune, it has a melody line that is both sing-a-long, and a pleaser. When is someone going to do a tribute album of his songs, already? I mean, the Cynics did a wicked cover of his “Girl, You’re on My Mind,” and the Dark Marbles have already covered “Walk Around the World.” There is just so much more that needs to be heard. (RIP Eric) mysteyeco.20megsfree.com/index.htm
Molly and the Haymakers – Jimmy McCarthy’s Truck
Solid country, this is another rave-up. I found this CD at Sounds (St. Mark’s Place) for $2.99 a while ago, and keep coming back to this song about first love. She states, “Jimmy and I, you know that we were tight / In that cabin we learned about the night / My mama said, ‘What do nice girls do / ‘Til 25 to 2?’ / We were riding around in Jimmy McCarthy truck.” There’s a couple of lines I’d love to excise from the song where she states that growing old “becomes a growing fear,” which brings down the mood just a bit. Still, every time I hear this song, I’m happy.
California Speedbag – Shitlist
Off a compilation collection called Pies and Ears, this is one of the great punk country “I kilt my wife” songs. Takes a long time to get to its point, with a slow pounding melody, and then Gary Lupico’s creaky vocals come in, to a song that never lets up. The protagonist, in prison, wonders, “Am I on your shitlist Jesus / I know I’m no saint / They tell me that I’m worthless / Jesus tell me that I ain’t.” He further explains, “I never would have loved her / If I know’d she walked the line / And I never woulda shot her / If I know’d I’d do the time.” His voice sounds like he really has had a rough and tumble, hardscrabble life (RIP Gary). myspace.com/californiaspeedbag
Melanie – Almost Like Being in Love
I heard this as a bonus track on the CD release off the Melanie album. She takes the tune from Brigadoon and makes into something completely else, using dissonant notes and a sweeping melody (rather than the original hokey love ballad). With harmonious backup singers, she shows that she wasn’t just some hippie singer, but a well-rounded, talented New York musician. Though I’ve seen her in concert a few times, I regret that I didn’t get to meet her when she was recording in a studio while I was working in the office (early ‘80s); didn’t know she was there until after she left. The live video below is pretty close to the studio version on my tape. melaniesmusic.com
Life Underwater – Lead Me On
Author/musician/poet JD Glass is the core of Life Underwater. This live cut is one of LU’s strongest cuts, though all of them are well written and played. They’re sort of a cross between rock and singer-songwriter, depending on the line-up at any particular time. LU have a new name now: The Charm Alarm, and I’m looking forward to hearing more of their tunes.
Read an interview I did with lead singer JD here (Part I; see list on right side of page for link to Part II: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2007/12/co-interview-with-writer-musician-jd.html). myspace.com/lifeunderwateronline
Manitoba’s Wild Kingdom – The Party Starts Now
When rhythm guitarist Top Ten left the Dictators, they broke up, but they couldn’t stay apart (yet). Handsome Dick Manitoba, Andy Shernoff and Ross the Boss (along with a new drummer) reformed into essentially a leaner, meaner Dictators. This song is a kick-ass rocker that equaled the ‘Tator’s material. The video is kinda cheesy in a rock-chick filled mess, but the song holds up. Yankees lovin’ HDM’s gum-chewing is a more funny than distracting, but the only sad thing about this song is more people know this video than any of the Dictators canon. Perhaps it’s the women wearing sports gear? Not sure, but this is solid fun anyway. last.fm/music/Manitoba's+Wild+Kingdom
Slickee Boys – Going All the Way / Glendora
The Slickee Boys were one of those bands who deserved to get a lot further than then did, whether Martha Hull is singing with them or not. Mark Noone’s vocals are great on these songs, and Kim Kane (the tall thin guy) has such a great presence. The medley of these two songs are so good, that I had to add in another song that I love as much as the one’s here (I’ve seen them live a couple of times, once at CBGBs, and they are an amazing live band). “GAtW” has a strong driving melody and rhythm, and “G” is a hilarious cover (once sang by Perry Como, though the SB’s take is closer to the underrated Downliners Sect’s version). See two early renderings of this song after the blog) about falling in love with… naw, I won’t give it away. myspace.com/slickeeboys
Bonus Video, just because it is so good:
Barbara Manning – Smiling
I only have one album by Manning, and it’s really decent lo-fi, high kitsch, in a way that twee artists like Adam Green have been trying to reach for years. Her voice is vague on melody, but so full of richness, it doesn’t matter. Just very simple and easy. (Note that I may have the name of the song wrong!) myspace.com/Barbara Manning
Media Ecology Unplugged – Hands of Captain Ludd
MEU is acoustic songwriters John McDaid (taking lead here) and Bill Bly, who tend to sing, both directly and indirectly, about culture, technology, and politics. For example, “HoCL” is about the Luddites failed violent revolt against the rise of the industrial revolution. This dissonant chorded (hence tense) piece tells not only the story of one of Ludd’s followers, but a technological history of how machines have been used as a means of control (“When the Roman Empire fell the Church used the bell for a hell of a devious scheme / To summon their flock they invented the clock, they made time with their new machine”). MEU have songs that are hysterically funny and deadly serious. You can download all their songs free here: www.infomonger.com/meunplug/
SIDE TWO
The Cramps – Garbageman
“You ain’t no punk you punk!” starts off one of the great songs of the Cramps that came in their important transition period, between voodoobilly and garage-billy (i.e., post-“The Way I Walk” and pre-“Goo-Goo-Muck”), when they were arguably at their strongest. There are lots of driving rhythms and wild guitarwork around this drug seller tale, but it’s the great bon mots that come out of it that helps make this such a great take-away: “If you can’t dig me you can’t dig nothin’” Lux spits out. With fevered pitch, he repeatedly asks, “Do you understand?” The video was shot in less than an hour, and looks as good as many of the MTV-level ones from the period. (RIP Lux; RIP Bryan)
Joey Ramone – Stop Thinkin’ About It
Joey’s one and only solo album was full of songs of hope and promise, as he was battling the cancer that claimed him. “Nuthin’ lasts forever, and nothin’ stays the same,” Joey looks positively ahead. The song is slick without being overly so, in a non-Top-Ten kinda way; he certainly didn’t embarrass himself like the “Funky Guy.” Joey could have had a long career as a lone act, more so than the other bruthas, but was tragically cut short, just like the other bruthas. (RIP Joey)
Mary Lou Lord – Lights are Changing
MLL opened her 1995 EP with this Bevis Frond tune (backed up Juliana Hatfield). It sounds almost out of place with the rest of the release, with its high production value (the rest on the EP is simply her voice and guitar). That being said, the whole thing is amazing and I can listen to all the songs straight through (except the last cut, a cover of “Speedy Motorcycle,” a song I never cared for whoever did it). The video is a different version from a EP release, but it holds up as a great song nonetheless, using imagery of her history of subway busking in Boston. MLL is another who deserves a bigger shot (read my interview with her here: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2008/10/mary-lou-lord-who-is-mary-lou-lord.html) myspace.com/maryloulord
The Murmurs – You Suck
The Murmurs have a phenomenal and dedicated (mostly female) following. This song is just one of the reasons. From their sophomore release (before they became more rock based and then changed their name, eventually broke up both the band and their relationship). This song is one of their strongest, and one of two videos that were made off this album (the other is “Bad Mood”). People who have seen the video know it for the chorus “Right now there’s dust on my guitar you fuck / And it’s all your fault / You paralyze my mind / And for that you suck.” But there’s also redemption in the song that’s no less clear than in “I Will Survive.” The harmonies are sweet, the melody is memorable, and the tension just builds beautifully. I haven’t seen a video where the “f” word isn’t cut out, so here you go. last.fm/music/The+Murmurs
Transparent – Anything (In 3)
In the heady Punk Temple days in Bensonhurst during the early 2000s, I saw Transparent play. They were one of the first bands to give me their (4-song) CD to review. From Providence, RI, the band had (I’m using past tense assuming they are not a viable as a unit as their Web site doesn’t exist) a strong sound. This particular song, which stood out during their live show as well, is a great grinding punk piece, with singer Keith Allen yelling out on the chorus, “And I would do anything / Just to keep you satisfied.” Pure romantic angst at its finest. Some bands may not last long, but they have the potential of releasing some excellent sounds, such as this one. Other members were Adam Riley (guitar), John Farley (rhythm guitar), Sweet Chris (bass), and Rich Bocchini (drums).
She Wolves – Hundred Bucks
There are different versions of this song by varied line-ups of this band (though two of the three have remained the same), all of which are worth a listen, but this one from the first EP is my favorite. Solid Ramones-influenced metal gnashing with Donna She Wolf screaming out “All I fuckin’ need now / Is a hundred bucks / it’s not for drugs!” The music is solid drive. This tune is short, simple, and relentless. Newer versions are more Ramones-metal than Ramones-punk, but it’s still just killer stuff. Check out the She Wolves’ (so far) masterpiece full sludge-crunch-metal CD, 13 Deadly Sins. While this type metal is not a genre I commonly listen to, the She Wolves are so amazing that it is one of the bands I truly miss being away from NYC. Big hugs Donna and Tony (and whoever is playing bass now). shewolves.com (though their MySpace page seems to be more up-to-date).
John Otway – Beware of the Flowers Cos I’m Sure They’re Gonna Get You (Yeah)
John Otway is one of those guys who either you’ve never heard of or you just like. There is an amazing greatest hits collection that I listen to all the time. From the first time I heard him in the late ‘70s (when he had long hair) and had the opportunity to not only see him play a couple of times, not to mention interview him for my fanzine – thank you Janis Schacht - I knew he was worth a listen. He reminds me of a British Willie Alexander, but more in a more rock vein. Along with then-partner Wild Willy Barrett, he would tour around and just smash away, but with imaginative tunes and lyrics that were, well, John Otway written as only Otway could. Whether he’s writing about “Louisa on a Horse” (a song produced by Pete Townsend) or “God’s Camera,” he takes simple concepts and blows them up into a sing-along melody and words. There are so many wonderful songs he’s written or covered and made his own. And so, this is the big one, proper. Johnotway.com
Morphine – You Look Like Rain
Actually, I find most of Morphine’s output to be pretentious and boring, but I really do like this song. It’s almost growled and could have been easily turned into a leer, but it’s more about desire than lust, and that’s to the singer Mark Sandman’s compliment. Morphine were trying to reinvent rock’n’roll, but ended up being some cross between rock and jazz, and, in my opinion, failed at both. But even artists who do not interest me in general may have a cut that I will enjoy. I’m usually open to find some nuggets. (RIP Mark)
Planet Smashers – Fabricated
Message to Gwen Stefani: this is ska, not the crap you produce (or ever had). Okay, the Planet Smashers are a ska band from Toronto, and from the first listen, it was solid Madness / Specials / Bad Manners, but even faster. As a student of Media Ecology, “Fabricated” spoke to that side of technopoly that Neil Postman and Jacques Ellul posited. The chorus states, “We are fabricated / we are regulated / We will fight to control the truth.” I don’t have much more to say about this, except give it a listen. Planetsmashers.net
Waldos – Sorry
Do I really need to explain about Walter Lure? Is there anyone who reads this that needs more info on him? Well other than checking out the interview on this blog (ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2009/10/walter-lure-on-gross-state-of-art-part_27.html: the second part is on the same day in the blog). The Waldos still exist, and their Rent Party album is as fine piece of work all the way around as the Heartbreakers. In the song, Waldo kicks out a groupie who was expecting more (“Next thing that I know you’re making eggs and cheese / Next thing that I know you want to live with me / I gotta go, what can I say / Sorry you took it that way”). As with most of the cuts on the CD, this one is guitar-driven and chain-saw revs. The video is a more recent live version. (RIP Tony; RIP Richie) myspace.com/walterlure
Washington Squares – D Train
Made up of an ex-New Wavers (Lauren Agnelli of Nervus Rex) and two ex-punkers (Tom Goodkind of U.S. Ape; Bruce Jay Paskow of the Invaders), the WS developed a beatnik look of wearing black (or black and white horizontal stripes), including sunglasses and turtlenecks, and sang both modern and traditional folk, but they did it with a sense of both respect and irony, playing the Civil Rights edge as a response to Reganomics. About half their songs were covers, the others original (all three contributed). This one touched a nerve, not just because it’s a rave-up. At the time, my pal Alan lived on the D line, so he could relate. Ironically, after some major subway construction, the D train was rerouted in Brooklyn (replacing the B) and became my train. But the song isn’t really about the subway, it’s about being stuck in a mundane job. Other WS videos are available, but not this one. (RIP Bruce)
www.washingtonsquares.com/
Linda Ronstadt – Close Your Eyes
As I’ve stated before (much to the chagrin of a reader), Linda’s country period of the early-to-mid-‘70s was her strongest (before she started trying to be more pop with covers of Buddy Holly and Motown). This James Taylor song is a strong example of why I believe that. It’s smoky and sensual, definitely Linda at her best. lindaronstadt.com
Gotta go find it as embedding not permitted by these corporate suits: youtube.com/watch?v=5UVBXOCd_fc
Mystic Eyes – I Thought I Saw a Tear Mystic Eyes – Share
I was relistening to their Our Time to Leave album when I was making this tape, and as I love these songs (actually, I like all the of the material on it), I added them on. “ITISAT” is typical Kugel pop; in other words, a marvel of songwriting, in this case fueled by Scott Davison’s rapid-fire drumming. But with “S,” bassist Craig Davison takes charge, writing / singing / playing just about everything in his then-home basement studio, proving that he is a Renaissance man with this strong kiss-off tune that has a hint of pathos (“Go to your cross-town love / You are now his alone / You’d rather share your love / Than to be mine alone”). Oh, and check out Craig’s blog at who-really-cares-anyway.blogspot.com (link is also on the right of his page).
Mason Williams – Classical Gas
This is one of my favorite instrumentals, period. I own a large collection of his works (both music and print), and the album this comes from, The Mason Williams Photograph Record, is one of my favorite records of all time (along with The Mason Williams Ear Show and Music). “Classical Gas” had a resurgence when it was used as the theme to the Bruce Willis / Michelle Pfeiffer ’99 film The Story of Us (redone by Eric Clapton; youtube.com/watch?v=bX9wE6TA80Q&feature=related), but I’ve been listening to it all along. This is a guitarist’s dream piece, and I’ve heard it played excellently by the likes of Glen Campbell (youtube.com/watch?v=YX6kCqgBffY) , Chet Atkins (youtube.com/watch?v=DRtvALWlKK4&feature=related), and Jim Stafford (youtube.com/watch?v=xdWXo-mMjZk). The video is a live version, but has the integrity. masonwilliams-online.com/home.html
This tape was created for a very long drive from New York to Nova Scotia. It was the last tape I made before switching to mixed CDs. As always, I have tried to find the original release of the song as it appears on the tape, and if that’s not possible, a live version. However, much of the music I listen to is indie stuff, so it’s kind of hard to find. SIDE ONE
Mary Lou Lord – His Indie World This was off her first EP, arguably one of the strongest of her releases, on SubPop. She recorded in Seattle (before being famously chased off by an off-center rocker rival), but comes from Boston, with a history of busking on the subways there. In this tune she complains that her boyfriend wants to listen to said indie music while she’s more interested in “my Joni (Mitchell), my Nick (Drake), Neil (Young) and Bob (Dylan), you can keep your Tsunami, your Slant 6 and Smog.” In this song, she mentions a ton of bands, most of who went on to further fame: “I said ‘What’s the story?’ / He said ‘Butterglory’ / I said, ‘What’s the news?’ / He said ‘The Silver Jews’”). Check out the lyrics on the Web, they’re quite fun.
The Good – Judy Bernie Kugel redid the song when he was in Mystic Eyes, but way before that, his original band, the Good, did a lower-fi version for Tommy Calandra’s BCMK Records (that’s Buffalo College of Musical Knowledge). The swirling keyboards take the listener on one of Bernie’s many great pop garage tunes of the era. While we’re still waiting for “Mail on Sundays” to come out, I am happy with this cut. Both versions of this song are great, but this one, being the one I heard and learned to love first, holds a warm spot in my heart.
The Byrds – Eight Miles High As someone who is not into hallucinogenics (though the band seemed to have been from the video I’ve seen of them doing this song live on German TV, they’re so obviously stoned), I still find this song to be powerful. McGuinn’s 12-string just sings in this classic. Yeah, Husker Du did a decent version, but cannot compete with this one. Usually, long songs with solos are not my speed, but this one is different. Yet, my fave Byrds song remains “Child of the Universe,” their theme song to the film Candy (I have it on another tape).
Blues Magoos – (We Ain’t Got) Nothin’ Yet” This is one of those iconic guitar-and-keyboards songs from the late ‘60s, with a pounding, dum-dum-da-dum rhythm. You hear any part of this song, it’s instantly recognizable. One of the first hit self-bragging songs I know of (“You know we’ve got what it takes / But we ain’t got nothin’ yet.). Couldn’t copy the song, so here’s the link: youtube.com/watch?v=GOGRTLn2uKY
John Otway – Josephine I’ve been a fan of Otway since the late ‘70s, when his Stiff Records were released. Teamed with fellow guitarist Wild Willy Barrett, he was just insane, but after they split, John started his second stage, which allowed him to do more serious songs, such as this one. The topic is of a local harvest festival, and the teen that is chosen to lead it (“And the crowd screams “Josephine / Our May Day eyes are on you”). Otway has a unique voice, both phrasing and style, and he always seems to be enjoying himself. There is a greatest hits package of his, and I highly recommend it.
Phil Ochs – The Highwayman One of many songs based on the Alfred Noyes poem (actually, John Otway has one, as well); this is probably the best known. It’s a long piece (and a longer poem), but Phil keeps the interest high as “Bess the landlord’s daughter” makes a futile sacrifice for her highwayman lover. It’s a romantic piece, for sure, but the title character’s actions at the end seem to nullify. And yet, it remains a beautiful song. The video is a wilted, live version, rather than the feisty recorded one.
3 Days Grace – I Hate Everything About You This song came to me by way of a three-song give-away disk at some store. I was instantly entranced by the emotion of it. At the time, I mentioned it to a friend, Vonny, and she said that she didn’t like the singer’s voice. Thing is, she’s actually right. Yes, I still like this song, but every other thing I’ve heard from the band has left me cold. Good call, Vonny! My one amusing story about this band is when I was in an Ontario Zeller’s, and this song came over the PA. Seemed like an odd choice, even if the band is from Canada. There’s an official music video to this, but it’s verbally edited, so here is this one.
Linda Ronstadt – I Can’t Help It The original Hank William’s one is arguably superior, but I don’t own any of his material on CD (the source for the rest of the songs), so I went for the Linda R one instead. I run hot and cold with Ronstadt: her ‘60s stuff (such as “Different Drum”) and Heart Like a Wheel country material are enjoyable, but I find the period after that and on (covers of Buddy Holly, etc.) kind of flat. This song shows some of her range.
Linda Ronstadt – Keep Me From Blowing Away This sad, wistful song has a country feel, but it’s more modern country pop. And yet, again, I like it a lot. There have been many times I’ve felt like this song, wanting some kind of anchor, something solid in my life, to keep me grounded. She emotes well here, that feeling of restlessness.
Kris Delmhorst – Hurricane This remains my favorite Kris Delmhorst song (so far). She equates a hurricane to the volatile relationship to which she’s currently involved (“I’ve always kept the company of clouds / I like my lightning bright, my thunder loud / I was never one for bluer skies / All that bright sun droning in my eyes / So blow me down, blow me down and leave me lying in your wake”). She’s still early on in her career, so there’s bound to be more great music to come. This is a live video, which is a bit distorted, but the sense is there.
Contraband – Hard Life Howard Bowler and his brother David, of the Marbles in the heady CBGBs days, lead this folk / country / rock / jazz band, and now have at least three full length CDs out. A Howard original, this song is almost oppressive in its negative charge, with dissonant notes and pressed lyrics (“The sun is shining / And all I get is rain / Comin’ down so hard / It’s drivin’ me insane”). It’s actually a powerful song, and Howard’s vocals shine with just the right unflinching tip of bitterness. Like the blues, it’s in your face, and yet somehow makes the listener feel better.
Dusty Springfield – The Look of Love Has anyone ever done a sexier version of this song than Dusty? Can they? I mean, she has a sultry voice to begin with, but this is one of her finest in this romantic mode. She practically whispers in your ear. Even her phrasing with pausing between words keeps you on your seat. Herb Albert’s horn also stands out here, with a couple of interesting false endings. This song just lulls me, from the first time I heard it in the ‘60s version of Casino Royale (as Ursula Andress seduces Peter Sellers).
Bob Crewe Generation – Peter Gunn This makes me think more of Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse more than Peter Gunn, but it’s a great iconic television theme song from the golden era of television; a classic noir in aural form.
SIDE TWO
The BKE – TBD Can’t talk about these two demos yet, but there are gonna be a lot of happy fans out there.
Margo Hennebach – After All There are two versions of this song, one on Margo’s second collection, Big Love, and one with her trio, Mad Agnes, Live at UH. This one is from the former, but they’re both done excellently, and I tend to listen to them both; I just had this one when I made the tape, though. Margo is one of my favorite modern singer-songwriters in the journeymyn tradition. With a hint of the Celtic, her songs are strongly supported by guitar and piano (both hers). I interviewed her the day of Woodstock II, just across the Hudson River from it, in fact. It was an enjoyable day, sitting on her porch and talking music (that interview can be read at this blog, dated October 26, 2008).
CSNY – Suite: Judy Blue Eyes My cousin Ken’s favorite song, but I didn’t know that when I put this tape together. While CSNY were one of those groups that annoyed the crap out of me in the early ‘70s (along with Yes, Kansas, America, and all those other bands that it seems everyone listened to when I was in college before punk hit), but someone gave me a greatest hits CD, and this one grew on me. It’s a long ode to Judy Collins (from Stephen Stills), but it changes often (hence the “suite”), and is not cloying.
Maria McKee – You Gotta Sin to Get Saved It was not Lone Justice that got me interested in Maria McKee, but an appearance on a TV show called Night Music, singing “Breathe” from her first solo release. Love at first hear. While there is a lot of subtly in Maria’s voice, damn she can belt them out good. This live in the studio recording from her record by the same name, is a bluesy, ballsy gospelly number that is nearly the female side of “Lightenin’ Strikes.” She tells her boyfriend “I could never shame you / Honey, you’re by pride and joy / But what’s a girl to do, now, daddy / I’m drowning in a sea of boys.” She further explains that “If I make an honest vow / To someday where a dress of white / ‘Cause scarlet’s what I’m wearing now.” Great song with a fun call-and-response chorus.
Al Yankovic – The Saga Begins A freakin’ brilliant cover of “American Pie,” but with lyrics reflecting the fourth Star Wars film, Chapter 1. Weird Al tells the entire story here, in his usual witty way, using similar rhyme patterns to the original (“Oh my, my this here Anakin guy / May be Vader someday later / Now he's just a small fry / He left his home and kissed his mommy goodbye / Sayin' ‘Soon I'm gonna be a Jedi’”). I laughed all the way through it the first time I heard the song. It still bemuses me.
David Wilcox – The Kind of Love You Never Recover From Off a sampler CD (two songs each from 5 albums), this was part of a tribute release for Christine Lavin, who wrote the songs. Wilcox’s reading is very spare, and full of emotion. The song is about wishing you had said something – the right thing – before your lover leaves (“At times like this when the moon is right / When the air is foggy like it is tonight / She'll think about what might have been / If she had just held on to him.”). It’s a sad song, but as with just about everything Lavin writes, it has a strong heart.
Barbara Kessler – Attainable Love Another Christine Lavin-er from the same sampler, this time the topic is being in love with someone who is commitment phobic, wishing she could change someone unchangeable (“Add me to the list of women / Who think you'll be different with me / Add me to the list of fools / Who flatly refuse to see / That just like me....”).
Susan McKeown – Winter King A strong Celtic tune from someone deeply associated with the genre. However, in this piece, McKeown also modernizes the arrangement to make it something else. Not with a disco-like beat some Celtic artists seem to have added (since those annoying dance-track Gregorian Chants), this is more rockish. I was going to put the next song from the CD, her killer version of “Aud Lange Syne,” but decided against it.
Leonard Cohen – Take This Longing Gotta say, the opening guitar chord to this song is not my favorite. It’s clanky and annoying, but once the listener gets past that, the song unfolds. Unfortunately, I found after listening to this tape on the road that I had to crank the volume all the way up, because the car noise was drowning out Cohen’s soft voice. Still a great song, though (“Take this longing from my tongue / All the useless things these hands have done / Let me see your beauty broken down / Like you would do for one you love”). Yes, the man is more than just “Suzanne” and “Hallelujah.”
The Dictators – Next Big Thing “I didn’t have to be here you know. I didn’t have to show up here. With my vast, financial holdings, I coulda be basking in the sun in Florida. This just a hobby for me. Nothin’, y’hear? A hobby!” With that, the opening cut to the ‘Tator’s first album starts strong and doesn’t let up. As they say later on in the tune, “We knocked ‘em dead in Dallas / And we didn’t pay our dues / Yeah, we knocked ‘em dead in Dallas / They didn’t know we were Jews.” Ah, the boys from the Bronx. I say again, DFFD. The video is a live version, without the intro, unfortunately. s
Currently living in Saskatoon (email at RBF55@msn.com for address). From 1977-88, I used to publish a print version of a music magazine in New York called FFanzeen, which dealt with the wide-ranging independent music scene. I also photographed many bands from the period (and since). Now I write this blog. And the beat goes on.
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