Documentary Review: Boys from Nowhere: The Story of Boston’s Garage Punk Uprising

Text and photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016

Video from the Internet

Boys from Nowhere: The Story of Boston’s Garage Punk Uprising

Directed by Chris Parcellin

BFN Films

77 minutes, 2016

www.facebook.com/bfnfilms  

Photos can be enlarged by clicking on them.

When it comes to sports, something which I don’t really follow, the New York-Boston rivalry is legendary. But when it comes to the sounds coming out of the clubs in the 1970s and ‘80s, well, yeah, there was a bit of a competition there as well, but both scenes – be it CBGBs or the Rathskellar (aka the Rat, whose denizens I’m sure hated it being called “Boston’s CBGBs,” and rightfully so) had more concurrent and complimentary bands helping charge each other rather than tearing down. While I had my feet firmly planted in NYC, from the late ‘70s to the mid ‘80s I had the opportunity to go to Boston twice a year on Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends, and immerse myself in that wonderful area. This gave me the opportunity to experience many of the musicians mentioned in this documentary.

After a brief opening with a brief historical video of ex-WBCN radio DJ Oedipus (he is also interviewed in the heart of the film), who was both loved and hated by those on the scene for various reasons, the documentary jumps ahead full volume. It’s a notch that this is more about the bands than anything else, so chronology of whom or what came first isn’t as important. For example, if it were presented that way, the Modern Lovers and Willie “Loco” Alexander would have been right off Yaz’s bat (why do I even know about Carl Yastrzemski? Osmosis, I guess. But I digress…), since there were at the forefront as the period unfolded. However, the Real Kids start off the focus.

I first learned about the Real Kids via their abbreviated masterpiece single “All Kindsa Girls” / “Common at Noon” (the full version would be released after), and then by their album on Red Star Records, promoted in NYC strongly by then-Red Star employee and huge Real Kids fan, Miriam Linna (not shown here). The album is phenomenal, even though I like the single version of the two songs more, but that may be because I heard it first, who knows. Using recent and archival footage, all the members of the band are heard from, including lead singer John Felice (who I saw at the Rat in his post-RK group, the Primevals), Alan “Alpo” Paulino (d. 2006), and Billy Borgioli (d. 2015; I had the opportunity to hang out with him a couple of times, thanks to my friendship with his long-time girlfriend Nancy Neon, also not interviewed probably due to time constraints).

John Felice and the Primevals

The Real Kids were quite spectacular, with high energy performances both live and on disk, and top notch songwriting, both of which are discussed here, by the likes of Jonathan Richman. This is key, considering Felice was in the Modern Lovers as a scene newbie. I’m happy to say that the film does not shy away from some of the negatives in the band, such as Felice’s contention about the album (apparently he’s the only one from anyone with whom I’ve discussed it), their more-than-recreational use of substances, and the firing of Borgioli, whose guitar was the backbone of the album. In my opinion, they never really recovered from that loss, though an obviously modified version of the band still plays today.

Again, not worrying about order, next up is the introduction of the Rat, the seminal locus of the scene at its start (the Channel and the Paradise, etc., would come later for promoting it), opening in 1973 (or ’74 as I’ve seen both listed, and closing 1997, where a luxury hotel replaced it), presenting the groups that would help change the world, is discussed through it’s originator, Jim Harold. He is an important hub to the Boston locus, and yet as I am not from the area, I know so little about him. I appreciate the info.

Monoman and the Lyres

This leads to DMZ, a band that would be led by Jeff “Monoman” Conolly, who I would later see numerous times in his next band, the more garage-based Lyres (the last time was 2007). I didn’t realize that he was the last to join the group, rather than it forming around him. DMZ was another band that signed to a major label (Sire, directly by the Danny Fields), yet never clicked with the larger audience. They were a band divided by egos; we even knew then that they would not last, but their LP is just so much fun, even though it honestly didn’t really represent the band as they were live. They rest this squarely on the shoulders of their producers, Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan (aka Flo and Eddie, aka the Turtles). Honestly, I never thought about how bad and misrepresenting the cover of their album was before, but they dissect it quite nicely here. It was their final hurrah. Oh, and as a point of interest, Monoman wrote the song whose title was used for this film.

Willie "Loco" Alexander

Next up is Willie Alexander, the godfather of the Boston underground. The section opens with the sludgy guitar of “Hit Her Wid Da Ax” (being “penis” rather than “hatchet” in this case), which was immediately identifiable. I may not agree with Willie’s politics, but as a musician, I’m a fan. With his Boom Boom Band, he actually does my favorite version of “You Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,” which he made his own. Saw him play twice in the ‘80s, including once at the Paradise, where I had the opportunity to hang out with him a short while before the show. Both performances were excellent, of course.

Jonathan Richman and Modern Lovers

Folded into this chapter is also Jonathan Richman, who would form the Modern Lovers. Most people today seem to know him as “the Troubadour” from the film There’s Something About Mary (1998), but his work has been consistently off-center, which makes him a perfect person to run concurrently with Willie in this piece. There are other similarities other than off-beat vocal styles. For one, both started solo and had a band join them after, but more importantly, both had a relationship with the Velvet Underground. For Richman, he was a mega-fan (as Morrissey was for the Dolls) and friend of the band, and Willie actually replaced Reed after Lou quit the group, to tour with the VU in Europe. Both are unique and yet led to the beginning of that period of Boston garage punk. I’ve seen Richman a few times, including with a version of the Modern Lovers in 1977 at My Father’s Place on Long Island; I’ve also videographed him being interviewed for cable access show Videowave backstage at Maxwell’s in Hoboken in 1996. It is rightly pointed out here that his version of “Roadrunner” exemplifies Boston, but I would add that it is just as much as Willie’s “At the Rat” is about the particular scene. However, to me, the best version of “Roadrunner” is from the Beserkley Spitballs compilation, rather than the eponymous Modern Lovers first album.

Next up is the Nervous Eaters, probably the band I know the least about on this documentary, even though I do have their album with the Elektra “chewed” cover. Again, a fun band with a non-representative release that did not help their career, even with one of the Paley Brothers, Jonathan, as a member (I used to go see the band Mong at CBGBs, with the other Paley bro, Andy). Their sound was more metalish than the other bands mentioned above, sort of like a dirty cross between the MC5, the joyful sloppiness and attitude of the New York Dolls, and that Willie A. way of going up and down the vocal scale on songs in a modified hiccupping way. But like so many of the bands before and after them, and even many on this documentary, they had one shot to record an album, and it never reached its potential either in sound or sales.

Then there is the amazing power trio, the Neighborhoods (reprint of a 1986 interview by me HERE), who I interviewed in the mid-1980s when they played in New York. The lead singer/guitarist, Dave Minehan, was a powerhouse onstage and off, and has become an important studio producer over the years. I first came familiar with them through their amazing singles on Ace of Hearts Records (whose founder, Rick Harte, was prominent in the scene, and also in this film, as is Minehan), such as “Prettiest Girl.” Though they sold over 10,000 records on a relatively small indie label, the Neighborhoods are probably the least known of all the bands here, which is criminal.

After a brief rundown of what some of the musicians are up to now (mostly recording with Rick Harte, it seems), there is a clip of Peter Wolf of the J. Geils Band sharing the stage with Willie Alexander and the Boom Boom Band singing Willie’s classic “Mass Ave” at Willie’s 70th birthday celebration in Somerville (of course). This makes sense since there is a phenomenal amount of music that runs throughout, including rare live clips and recordings.

There are lots of interviews with band members, but also of front-line scenesters, such as Lyn Cardinal (aka Ms. Lyn), the publisher of the most important local fanzine, The Boston Groupie News (met her once in passing), Paul Lovell (aka Blowfish; I also had the good fortune to meet), who put out some topically hysterically funny EPs in the day, scene regular and comedian Dennis Leary, and Johnny Angel of City Thrills (he also had a comic side gig doing wedding band versions of punk songs that I saw him do at the Rat; picture Sinatra doing “Anarchy in the UK,” for example).

By using black and white footage for present day interviews, the historical still pictures and live footage meld together well, making the whole zeitgeist a timeless document that works collectively, rather than putting them into segregated, isolating moments, even with individual chapters for each band. This concept doesn’t always work elsewhere, but Parcellin nails it from the first to last frame. Plus there are some beautifully shot photos that are presented throughout; I was looking to see if my pal, the Barb Kitson-obsessed Rocco Cippilone’s name was there in the credits, but unfortunately not, but that doesn’t take away from the period piece ones shown, many from Robert Post.

My biggest (and probably only) problem with this film is that I wanted it to include all the musicians and bands I liked from there, without losing any of the details that’s already included, which would have made this probably at least three times as long, which is of course totally unrealistic. Just off the top of my head and in no particular order there’s Kenne Highland, the Thrills (who would lengthen their name to City Thrills, whose later version I saw at CBGBs)/Blackjacks/Swinging Erudites, the Count (caught them a few times at the Rat and the Paradise), Salem 66 (saw them in Boston, New Jersey, and NYC), Boys Life (seen at CBGBs and the Rat), Mission of Burma (who blew away Gang of Four when Burma opened for them at Irving Plaza in November 1980, to the point where people started leaving en masse about halfway through the headliners because it was so anti-climactic), Unnatural Axe (also saw them at CBGBs) and Fox Pass, to name just a few. That’s not even bringing up some of the great bands past this period, like the Bristols, the Outlets and the Dogmatics. You can see some of my pix below.

For future documentaries? In alphabetical order...

Boys Life

The Bristols

The Count

The Dogmatics

Mission of Burma

Salem 66

JOHN FELICE: No Kid!

Text by Donna Lethal, introduction by Robert Barry Francos
© 1986, FFanzeen; introductory comments © RBF, 2012
Performance image © RBF; other images from the Internet

The following article on the underrated indie legend John Felice was originally published in FFanzeen magazine, issue #14, in 1986. It was written by then-Boston-based fan Donna Lethal, who used the name Donna Lee at that time.

The first time I heard of the Real Kids was when I was interviewing the Cramps, and Bradley Field and James Siegfried (aka James Black, aka James White), then in Teenage Jesus and the Jerks and then-Cramps drummer Miriam Linna’s one-time co-workers at The Strand Bookstore, were playing a tape of what was to be their first LP in the background. That first, eponymous album, on Marty Thau’s Red Star Records, was amazing, quite frankly. But it was the single, “All Kindsa Girls” b/w “Common at Noon” that really won me over.

I never did get the chance to see the Real Kids play, unfortunately. Stories of their shows were legendary for being raucous, rock’n’roll garage-driven fun. Lead singer John Felice moved on after the band, and I did have the opportunity to enjoy a rousing set at The Rat, on his home turf in Boston (opening band was the Dogmatics). This was also, I believe, the same weekend I had the chance to meet the exquisite Donna Lethal when visiting Kenee Highland, but I digress…

While leading the Real Kids, Felice had a side project called the Taxi Boys, who did some recording. The Primevals followed the break-up of the Real Kids. With another band with that name from Scotland predating them, Felice’s Primevals faded. In Heartbreakers’ tradition, what followed was a series of Real Kids reunions with most of the original members for a large number of years, until the death of Alpo Paulino in 2006, when the band officially disbanded (Billy Borgiloi would form his own band, the Varmints, which is still in existence).

Felice’s current band is John Felice and the Lowdowns. – RBF, 2012

The Real Kids were one of Boston’s “next big things” during the late ‘70s-early ‘80s period. Their now legendary first LP, simply entitled The Real Kids (Red Star Records), still garners airplay on local Boston radio, and the albums that followed (Outta Place, All Kindsa Jerks, Hit You Hard, plus a slew of domestic and import singles) proved what Boston and France already knew – the Read Kids were destined for the top. So what happened? Faced with a changing scene in Boston, and personal and career difficulties, they broke up in ’83.

One cold February evening I found myself seeking refuge in a friendly local Boston bar, Chet’s Last Call [closed in the late 1980s – RBF, 2012]. John Felice’s (Kids’ lead singer) lineup, the Primevals, was the house band at Chet’s during most of February and March, and what ensued was surprising: no rehashed “comeback” band was here, and the Primevals played a tight, rocking set.

“I hadn’t planned on starting a new band,” says Felice, “but whenever Chet’d see me he’d say, ‘When are you gonna get yourself a band?’ So one night, Pete Taylor comes up to me and says, ‘I hear you’re looking or a drummer.’ I hadn’t even said anything to anyone! But that’s how it started. I got Billy [Borgioli, original Read Kids guitarist - DL], and that’s how it all sorta came together.” With the addition of Dave Pedersen on bass, the Primevals were formed.

Studio plans are in the works, and they’ve got one cut on the latest Throbbing Lobster comp, Claws, titled “Lose That Girl,” to their credit. “This isn’t a comeback,” states Felice. “We still play rock’n’roll. We play as hard; we rock as hard as any band in this fucking city. We haven’t changed our approach to music at all.”

FFanzeen: Starting from the beginning, you were with the Modern Lovers. How did that come about?
John Felice: I grew up in the house next door to Jonathan Richman. I started playing (guitar) when I was 15, but those guys were all older than me, so it was sorta like being the little kid in the band. It was me, Jonathan, Ernie Brooks, David Robinson, Jerry Harrison. I left right before they went to LA to record. I could read the wring on the wall and, sure enough, they broke up not too long after.

FF: Is that when you started the original Kids?
John: Yeah. We went through lots of personnel changes. I had given it up for about three months. When Jonathan got back from LA, he told me about a rehearsal space. I hadn’t planned on heading up a band, but that’s where I met up with Alpo and Billy Borgioli.

FF: What’s Alpo doing now?
John: He’s working with a new band, playing harp and percussion. He and I tried it out during the winter, but it just didn’t work. If me, him and Billy played together, it’d be the whole Real Kid thing all over again. It wouldn’t work out.

FF: But you’re still really big in France –
John: That first LP was a legend. But it took so long between the first LP, then the Taxi Boys stuff in-between back there in ’83 – to record, you know, things change. The fans there were great; real enthusiastic and receptive, not what you find here. We’d try out new material, old stuff too, and it went over really well. The last LP didn’t sell that well, though, compared to the cost of making it. I still get royalty checks and stuff, but it didn’t do so good.

FF: Are you going there with the Primevals?
John: I’d like to. We don’t have a contract or anything. We had a lot of problems – personal problems – with New Rose Records on the last tour, and it kinda left New Rose with a bad taste in their mouths.

FF: Isn’t New Rose pretty lenient, though?
John: We pushed them about as far as they would go. We cost them incredible amounts of money. I feel bad about it now. If we hadn’t fucked up, we could probably be there now, playing and shit, but we fucked up bad. I mean, we manage to play every show, we never had to cancel a gig, we played good, but we fucked up a lot of things. Patrick Mathe, the President of New Rose, was real proud to have us there, and we sorta shoved it up his ass sideways by pulling the shit we did.

FF: The fan club is still going strong…
John: The last issue they put out was the final one. They’re not gonna do anything until they hear from me. I’m in the process of assembling a letter and a tape, cuz they don’t even know if I’m alive, let alone my new band. There’s all sorts of rumors of my death.

FF: Rumors of your death?
John: The last time they saw me, I was a fucking mess. They’ve been hearing that we’re all dead, cuz we almost did die over there a few times. I was supposed to have moved to Paris in January of ’84, but it was a good thing I didn’t cuz I was fucked up – really fucked up – in the middle of a really bad drug problem. If I had moved to Paris, I woulda been in worse shape then I ever have been. We left there on bad terms. I didn’t wanna go back there on bad terms and be all strung out, and knocking on Patrick’s door: “Hi, here I am, you gotta support my drug habit now.” Woulda gone over real well. I called him the day I was supposed to be there and told him I wasn’t coming. That was the last I spoke to him. Our manager got in touch with him about making another record, explained to him that, “Felice is all cleaned up, completed his methadone program, etc.,” making me sound like the all-American boy. His response to the tape was hot, but about seeing me, real cool. The letter he sent was like, “This kid cost me; I’m still bailing myself out.”

FF: Were you the cause of all this madness?
John: No! It was our road manger on the tour! He was taking tons of money to buy drugs. They were readily available to us, wherever we’d go. They could tell just by lookin’ at us that we weren’t into smokin’ no grass or nothing. They’d see us and it was, “Have I got what you need.” Anyway, our road manager was going back and forth to Paris and getting money from Patrick, to live on. We didn’t know how much he was getting cuz he’d take the money and buy drugs, then tell us that he only got this much, when Patrick was really giving him twice as much. So he was ripping us off, too.

FF: So Patrick was supporting everyone’s habits.
John: Yeah, it was unbelievable. He’s not rich at all; he’s still paying off our bills. To make things worse, he throws us into the most expensive studios in Europe [RKM in Brussels – DL] to record Hit You Hard. In Europe, they’ve got these little refrigerators in every hotel room, stocked with booze, so every day Alpo was drinking them dry – twice. He didn’t care what it was, he’d just pour all the nip bottles in a glass with some Coke, drink it up. Plus, he smashed a phone to pieces cuz he couldn’t get through to his girlfriend. New Rose is still playing the bills.

FF: Sounds like Fear and Loathing in Brussels.
John: It was a nightmare. I caught Hep, too. The whole time we were recording Hit You Hard, I was really, really sick. I didn’t know with what. I got Hep ‘til I got back to Boston. I didn’t go to a doctor or nothin’. All I knew was that I’d go to the bathroom and piss black.

FF: How did you physically do the recordings?
John: I don’t know. The recording hours were incredible. We’d go in at 3 in the afternoon an be out at 9 AM. I was crawling. I couldn’t keep anything in my stomach. I’d puke it all up. All I know is that I was one sick motherfucker. I’d just lie in my bed and go, “Oh God, gotta record in six hours.” The record dragged on for so long cuz I was fuckin’ dying. We had this enormous hotel bill, bolstered by Allen’s [Alpo] alcoholic cravings, plus there was a bar in the studio. We ran up a monstrous tab, buying whole bottles of vodka and shit, and you’re not even supposed to drink with Hep. I drank even more than ever had, figuring if I got drunk enough the pain would go away. I couldn’t’ figure out why I’d wake up in the morning and want to rip my liver out.

FF: Is that why you look so bad on the cover of Hit You Hard?
John: That was before the tour. When I got back to Logan Airport, the customs guy took one look at me and it was, “You better get going.” He didn’t even bother to check my bags. And Alpo got hip to our road manager; they were all black and blue and shit. We won’t be going back there for a while.

FF: What about recording now, since the Claws compilation?
John: Right now, I wanna record soon. I’d like to do something outside of a local label, maybe for Slash [Slash Records and fanzine was based in Los Angeles and formed by Bob Briggs; roster included the Germs, Blasters, Misfits, Gun Club, L7 – RBF, 2012]. They know us cuz the Real kids moved there in ’79 for six months and generated a lot of interest, but never followed up on it.

FF: Slash has changed a lot since ’79.
John: Oh yeah. Then it was one room, two desks, newspaper and shit all over; but the guy who runs it knows who we are. It’s just – of years people have been saying to me, “You know, your songs are great. You should get some real musicians to play with. You know, you could make a million dollars if you got the right people to play with.” I wouldn’t wanna do that. If other people wanna record them that way, I’d be happy to sell some of my songs. The thing is, the sound that we get, is our sound. I don’t wanna change it. If they’re gonna be made hits, they’re gonna be made by someone else. Like “All Kindsa Girls,” for example. People say, “You coulda done this, get some real musicians.” Yeah, well, I’ve heard it so much. The guys I play with can play. It’s our sound and I don’t wanna change it.

FF: Even under the worst of conditions you put out the best record you’ve ever made.
John: Hit You Hard is about as polished as I wanna get. The Real Kids had such a heavy stigma attached to us – people saying, “Why do you surround yourself with such fuckin’ losers for?” A small label, like Slash, wouldn’t pressure me into changing the sound. Look what happened to the Nervous Easters. They were a rock and roll band; they went into the studio and put out a shitty record under pressure from the label. I just wanna be left alone to record.

FF: Are you recoding with the Primevals yet?
John: We’re working on a tape, and we’ll try to generate interest with it. If not, put it out on a local label and see what happens. I have no idea about Boston anymore. This whole scene is completely foreign to me.

FF: Getting back to the Throbbing Lobster LP. They’ve done well for local bands.
John: I don’t think our representation was that great on that LP.

FF: You got Andy Paley back to produce it.
John: We didn’t. Chuck [Warner] did [owner of Throbbing Lobster Records, 1984-88 – RBF, 2012]. Chuck saw us on a Saturday and had us in the studio by Tuesday. I like Andy, he’s a great guy and all, but I’d rather have done it myself. It woulda sounded a lot different. As our first available offering, I would've wanted something better.

FF: Still, you’re getting airplay.
John: It is? I didn’t even know about it. All they play at work is [W]BCN.

FF: That’s where I heard it.
John: Really? It’s strange cuz they could say shit about the Primevals instead of the Real Kids. I’d much rather hear the new cut instead of that.

FF: What about the Real Kids reunion gig last summer at The Rat?
John: That’s it again; the Real Kids were such a big deal. Nobody knows who the Primevals are. We really need a manager. It used to be so much easier, to get gigs and stuff. You didn’t have to be on the phone all day. Now it’s five days a week, going to clubs at night, and I hate going to clubs unless I’m there to play. I’m through with that shit. On my own reputation as a… a dinosaur [laughs], a fossil, I guess. It’s tough. It’s not a comeback or nothin’. We play as hard, we rock as hard as any band in this fucking city. We haven’t changed our approach to music at all. Our new material is stronger, I think, and I’ve got better musicians. I don’t think I should have to sell myself, but I don’t expect people to come up to me either.

FF: Do you have any plans for the future?
John: I just live day to day. I can’t spend time feeling sorry for myself. I get pissed; then I get pissed at myself for getting pissed. Those assholes aren’t even worth the energy you put into hating them. You know, it’s not so easy. I’m 30 years old. Most people my age don’t even own a guitar. I can’t give it up that easily. I know what keeps me straight. I don’t wanna get back into doing drugs again. Playing rock and roll is my only shot. I‘ve been playing rock and roll since I was 15. I tried to stop before and I saw what happened.

FF: Do you think people are going to label you as a throwback?
John: We still play the same, still play rock and roll. I’ll always sound like me. If I was writing the same songs I used to, same ideas, we’d be burnt out, like the Ramones are. We ain’t trying to be nothin’. I don’t think that we’ve got any identity – you know, you hear the first few seconds of a song: “Oh yeah, that’s one of Felice’s!” We ain’t got that. If you don’t like it, you can always walk out the fuckin’ door, that’s the way it is. I feel lucky to have the guys I do in the band, cuz it’s tough when you’re my age to find guys who are into the same stuff you are, who wanna do what you want. Kids today, they wouldn’t know the real thing if it slapped them in the face. They hear us, it’s “old shit,” you know. We’re just rock and roll. It’s hard to fight a throwback label. I still can’t play guitar.

FF: You can’t play guitar?
John: I never tried to be a great guitar player. I’m a songwriter; that’s all I ever wanted to be. I went back to school last year, trying to kick dope. You know, you get old, you get responsibilities. You can’t live like you do when you’re young. But I could give a fuck about work. The band is still number one.

Concert Stubs From Long Ago

Text by Robert Barry Francos

Doing some cleaning, I recently came across a stack of ticket stubs from shows and events I had seen in New York. While the shows the tickets represent is hardly inclusive to the shows I have attended, and it mostly certainly does not include clubs like Max’s and CBGBs, here are some of them. Note that I have some with no dates, so I will leave them blank. Notes will be in [brackets]. I have also added who I attended to the shows with, if I remember, or in certain cases, I know but do not want to say. Here they are in order of date:

* NY Rangers vs. Detroit Red Wing, Madison Square Garden, Feb 4, 1970 ($4.00) [My father would occasionally get tickets from the office pool]

* The Kinks, Felt Forum, Nov 27, 1974 ($6.50) [After the first half where they played older material, they returned and did the entire Preservation; attended with Bernie Kugel]

* Marcel Marceau, City Center, Mar 25, 1975 ($7.95) [Was on the guest list after interviewing him earlier in the day; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Mireille Mathieu, Carnegie Hall, April 8, 1975 ($5.00) [Beautiful voice; learned about her from the Des O’Connor Show on television; this was just 3 months before the first time I went to CBGB’s and was introduced to the Ramones; attended this show stag]

* Alice Cooper / Suzi Quatro, Madison Square Garden, May 5, 1975 ($6.50) [last row of the balcony, dead center, and he looked like a spec; saw Cooper a total of 4 times]

* Mary Travers / Paul Davis, The Bottom Line, May 19, 1975 ($4.00) [I saw her do the same show twice, and she wore the same dress… other date below; RIP]

* Rolling Stones / Dem Boys, Madison Square Garden, Jun 27, 1975 ($12.50) [Dem Boys was pure torture: a sea of steel drums in an echoing auditorium; it sounded like one long and continuous note, and I have not liked the sound of steel drums since]

* New York Cosmos vs. San Jose Earthquakes, Downing Stadium (Randalls Island), Jul 23, 1975 ($4.00) [Pele was in the Cosmos then; it was a long day, going into double overtime, and by the time we left, my backside was killing me, sitting that long on concrete seats]

* Mary Travers, The Bottom Line, Jul 28, 1975 ($4.00) [Attended with Bernie Kugel]

* Sparks / Mott, Avery Fisher Hall, Nov 19, 1975 ($6.50) [Opening was Mott; note that it was not Mott the Hoople; was on the guest list after interviewing Sparks the evening before: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2009/04/bad-interviews-lynyrd-skynyrd-and.html; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Roxy Music, Beacon, Nov 26, 1975 (?) [Saw them twice, the other at the Academy of Music; attended with Bernie Kugel]

* Linda Ronstadt / Andrew Gold, Beacon Theatre, Dec 4, 1975 ($7.50) [Our seats were the very last row, left side; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Patti Smith, The Bottom Line, Dec 27, 1975 ($5.50) [The infamous show that was bootlegged everywhere; RIP Richard Sohl; attended with Bernie Kugel]

* NY Rangers vs. Buffalo Sabres, Madison Square Garden, Dec 10, 1975 ($6.00)

* The Who / Golden Earrings, Madison Square Garden, Mar 10, 1976 ($8.50) [The Who was amazing, of course, and did a large chunk of Tommy]

* Sparks, Bottom Line, Dec 21, 1976 ($4.50)

* Patti Smith Group, The Palladium, Dec 31, 1976 ($8.50)

* The Dictators / The Dead Boys, CBGB Theatre, Dec 18, 1977 ($7.50) [RIP Stiv]

* Patti Smith Group / Richard Hell, CBGB Theatre, Dec 29, 1977 ($7.50)

* Harry Chapin, Central Park, Aug 11, 1979 ($4.50) [Saw Harry a number of times; RIP; attended with Dennis Concepcion]

* Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, Club Tomato, Sep [?], 1979 ($4.00) [Attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Herman’s Hermits [sans Peter Noone], Club Tomato, Sep 20, 1979 ($4.00) [Also saw HH with Noone once, and saw Noone without the HH once; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* The Uncle Floyd Show, The Bottom Line, Dec 6, 1979 ($5.50) [attended with Alan Abramowitz and Stacy Mantel]

* The Tourists / Speedies, The Bottom Line, Apr 15, 1980 ($6.00) [The Tourists were Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart, soon to be the Eurythmics; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Alice Cooper (New York, New York show), Palladium, Aug 15, 1980 ($12.50)

* Dictators, ?, Sep 12, 1980 ($8.00)

* Rockpile / Moon Martin, The Ritz, Nov 24, 1980 ($10.00) [Have no memory of Moon Martin at all; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Blotto / Doug & the Slugs, The Bottom Line, Mar 16, 1981 ($7.00) [On guest list; RIP Doug Bennett]

* Franken and Davis, Savoy, May 20, 1981 ($3.00) [The show was a disappointment, despite the famous audience members, and many of SNL members guest appearing; this was the night I insulted David Bowie to his face; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Alice Cooper / The Spiders, Savoy, Aug 14, 1981 (12.50)

* NY Rangers vs. Buffalo Sabres, Madison Square Garden, Jan 3, 1982 ($8.00)

* Mireille Mathieu, Carnegie Hall, Apr 10, 1982 ($10) [The whole audience was full of Russians, which I found surprising; didn’t hear a word of English from the audience the whole night; attended with Alan Abramowitz]

* Dave Edmunds / NRBQ, The Ritz, May 17, 1982 ($12.50) [This is around the time Dave Edmunds was a phenomenon, and rightly so; while I respected NRBQ’s talent, I found them so boring, in a Phish kind of way, and my ex-FFanzeen managing editor had quit because I refused to publish an article about them; attended with Alan Abramowitz and Stacy Mantel]

* Let’s Active / Fuzztones, Irving Plaza, Oct 21, 1983 ($8.00) [I had met Lynn Blakey of LA at a party while on vacation in North Carolina a couple of years earlier; the Fuzztones are always great]

* The Animals, Beacon Theater, Nov 12, 1983 ($15.00) [on guest list; night I met them backstage and interviewed Eric Burdon (you can find the interview on an earlier blog); saw the same 2-1/2 hour show on the same tour earlier in the year at Shea Theater in Buffalo, NY; Attended with Mary Anne Cassata]

* Monkees Reunion, Jones Beach Theater, Jul 17, 1986 (14.75) [No Mike]

* Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers, Mar 14, 1987 (?) [This may have been the time at the Bottom Line; I’ve seen JR a few times; attended with Dawn Kugel]

* Sweet Honey in the Rock, Washington Irving High School [Gramercy Park], Jan 14, 1990 ($19.00) [Another group I have seen a few times; some of the most magical harmonies; attended with my partner and Tamani Wooley]

How many of these have you attended? Feel free to leave a comment on the blog!

Two with TALKING HEADS, 1977-78

Interview text © 1978, 1979 by Bernie Kugel;
RBF intro © 2010 by Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

The following interviews with Talking Head were originally published in Big Star magazine, issue #2, dated August 1977, and Big Star magazine, issue #3, dated August 1977. Both were conducted by Bernie Kugel, and reprinted here with his kind permission. I have left in the text the way Bernie originally had it (cleaning up some typos kinds of things). Text added by me in the present is in [brackets].

Talking Head were the first band I saw play CBGB’s, on June 20, 1975, when they were opening for the Ramones. Many years later I would discover that this was also the first night out for Talking Heads. I went there with Bernie, natch.

When David Byrne started singing back then, he moved the back of his head, the front passing the mic with a Doppler effect. The next time we saw them, he had figured out the whole move the back of the head instead thing. As I have said before, I enjoyed the band more as a trio, finding a keyboard made their sound too “New Wave,” rather than quirky. – RBF, 2010

Part I – 3 x 3: Talking Heads Talk
Big Star #2, August 1977

Since their emergence at CBGB’s in 1975, David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, and Chris Frantz, otherwise known as Talking Heads, have been a consistently entertaining pop music band bringing to mind aspects of bands like the early Modern Lovers and Velvet Underground, but basically sounding like themselves more than anyone else. With super catchy songs like “Don’t Worry About the Government,” “Psycho Killer,” “I’m Not In Love,” “Thank You For Sending Me an Angel,” and others, they present a happy melodic future for music. Recently, they’ve been quite busy with bassist Tina marrying drummer Chris, Jerry Harrison of the Modern Lovers joining the group on guitars and piano, and most importantly, finishing up their first album on Sire [Talking Heads ‘77], which should be just about ready to be released when you read this. But until that comes out, here’s a few little insights into the Heads from the Heads themselves, from a conversation I had with them in January. Jerry Harrison wasn’t in the band at the time so I didn’t speak to him, but hopefully I’ll have the chance to do that real soon for an upcoming issue. But for now, as they’re seen in the pic, here are Chris, Tina and David…

Chris Frantz

1. Do you have favorite New York groups?
Yeah, I would say my favorite New York band right now is the Ramones, other than ourselves of course. I know people might think it’s funny that we like the Ramones and all but before we’d ever even played we’d seen them; in fact, the first night I moved to New York City I went to hear the Ramones, I think they were just beginning. I liked them even though they were really terrible then. They’ve cleaned up their act considerably since then. I think they’re great. Television, of course, is good.

2. What prompted you to write to Crawdaddy [magazine] (concerning an article severely putting down the Ramones)?
Well, you know I’d never even written a letter to a magazine before, that was the first and only one I’ve written so far. I just thought it was a really mean record review. I understand that writers can write whatever they want and all that, but it made me angry what this fellow said. I hate to say it but Crawdaddy’s a kind of dry rag, but maybe it’s picking up now that they’ve got us in there; maybe they’re getting better.

3. Do you have favorite movies?
To tell you the truth, I just went to see three movies. David goes to the movies pretty frequently and Tina does also, but I don’t go so much ‘cause I get nervous sitting in the chair for that long, or I get indigestion. But I did go see Carrie and I liked that a lot, and I liked King Kong a lot, and I liked Rocky a lot. When we were in school, we used to have to see movies all the time. They were sort of required in art school. We got a very heavy dose of the “art film,” or at least I did when I was there, and as a result, I have a tendency to go to things like Rocky rather than Cousin Cousine. I avoid those kinds of movies nowadays.

Tina Weymouth

1. What’s it feel like playing live now compared to the early days?
The crowds are really big now, compared to the early days. And where the crowds used to just look at us and say “jeez, they’re so weird” and think that we were very arty and stuff like dramatic and theatrical, we weren’t trying to be; I think it just happened because we wore very simple clothes and not glitter. We’d just put the lights on and leave them on and not use any colored lights or anything. But now it’s really fun. In New York, at CBGB’s, people get very excited, and some of them scream – scream so loud it actually hurts your ears on stage. And it’s louder than our amplifiers.

2. Do you have favorite historical figures or heroes of any kind you look up to?
I’m sure we do. I’m sure we have a lot, although I can’t think of any in particular right now. We like a lot of the old R&B originators. One of the reasons why we decided to take the risk and make the band even though we weren’t sure at all how we would be received and we knew it would be a lot of work, was because we were very disgusted with the art world. There was so much heroizing and the artists that we met were so inflated with themselves - not all of them but a number of them - and so full of themselves and people really looked up to them as though they were magicians, real heroes, and they thought of themselves as elitists: fine artists, and therefore very noble, and I think that kind of turned us off. It really made us decide we don’t like heroes; we don’t like any of that and we’re certainly not going to be heroes ourselves. We’re not gonna do that, we’re always gonna be normal people. We’re not gonna be pretentious and try to have people look up to us as though we’re something special. We try to stick to that pretty much. I guess we sort of got away from that kind of heroism.

3. Do you have any advice to new band starting out?
Yeah, one very important thing is to rehearse a lot before you perform because sometimes you’re a little overanxious to just get up on stage and do it. Of course, audience response is very important in the development. From the time you begin to a few months later you could sound different. But rehearse a lot beforehand so that everything’s very tight, very together, so that the first time people see you they think it’s good and you won’t get a reputation for sounding bad. You could start out terrible and then get good some months later and people will remember you as having been the way you were when you started and they’ll say, “Oh no, that band’s terrible.” So that’s the only advice I can imagine. Work very hard. Practice a lot, like the old Julliard saying goes, “Practice, practice, practice gets you into Carnegie Hall.”

David Byrne

1. What were some songs that you used to play in the early days that you don’t do now?
“I Want to Live,” “Sugar On My Tongue”… I can’t remember them all. We keep dropping more and more, and adding new ones.

2. When did you get the idea for the acoustic guitar now used on many Talking Heads songs?
I don’t know, it was always on records. You would always listen to records and you’d hear acoustic guitar and I thought, “How come nobody does that in a band?” I mean outside of folk acts and stuff. So I thought, well, I’ll give it a try. Just have to crank up the volume.

3. Did you think you’d have the success you’ve found in New York?
I always thought it was possible, but I didn’t expect it to happen this fast. I set a sort of tentative timetable and thought, “Five years before we get good enough so that people get what we do.” And it seemed to happen a little bit faster, which is very pleasing.


Part II – Talking Heads: 78
Big Star #3, Spring 1978

Since our last issue, the big Talking Heads news is that their debut album has of course been released. And, all in all, it’s a fine first album with the second side being especially strong. Definitely one of the better records of ’77, and this decade. Recently, the band has been touring all over (including a superconcert in Buffalo) and I guess it won’t be too much longer before they go into the studios and start recording songs like “The Big Country,” “Stay Hungry,” “Good Thing,” “Let’s Work,” or whatever songs will eventually become Talking Heads album number two.

We’ve been fortunate enough to talk with the band on a couple of occasions now, and it is from these conversations that we present this epic.

Chapter One: First telephone conversation with Tina Weymouth, Part One:

Bernie: Do you think this band will stay together for a long time?
Tina: Oh, I don’t see why not; I don’t see anything that’s gonna… yeah, it could last a real long time… it depends… what do you mean by that?

Bernie: Well, like in lotsa bands there are personality clashes and bands break up.
Tina: Um hum. Well, David and Chris have been together in bands for several years now and they’d know by now whether they were gonna break up or not. I guess it’s only common sense to say that sometimes knowing that different people have different ideas and start to go in different directions, then it’s just logical that the band break up or if the band is not successful, then that’s logical to break up too, because then you have to mutate and change so that you get to be some kind of collaboration that does work. That just seems to be a natural thing that happens all the time – if a band isn’t working, and you break up, then it’s a good thing.

Bernie: You probably get asked this a lot, but are there any special problem being the girl in the band?
Tina: I don’t know; I really don’t know. I don’t know whether the problems I have are problems anybody would have or just problems a girl would have. I don’t feel any particular discrimination if that’s what you mean. That’s a question that’s been asked only a couple of times and I don’t know how to answer it except to sort of ignore it because it just doesn’t seem to be that much of a problem. I don’t think about it; the boys don’t think about it. I think they thought about it at first when they first asked me to join because they didn’t know how it would be, but they knew me very well and I guess I worked out better than some boys would, just because I have similar ideas and concepts. So it was better to have me than a boy who had a totally different direction.

Bernie: Is there any truth to what was printed in the Village Voice a few weeks back that the name Talking Heads comes from David’s neck, or something like that?
Tina: No, no, that was [Robert] Christgau going wild. I thought it was real funny because I thought it was Tom Verlaine of Television – his was the neck that everyone looked at. But I guess David does have a long neck; we’ve been teasing him, calling him “Neckrifiti” ever since, but no, that’s not how it originated. The name came from an old back issue of TV Guide when we were tyring to find a name for ourselves ‘cause while we were in rehearsal we had no name; it was only just before when we auditioned for CBGB’s we had to have a name. So we had to have a name right away, and we had a friend who was staying with us, and he was looking through the TV Guide and he wrote it on one of our numerous lists of possible names. It’s video jargon for a talk show; it’s what cameramen use when they’re talking to each other: “This afternoon, 1 PM, we have a talking head” – so it’s almost a documentary type of name. And so when we were looking at the list, it was the only name we felt had so many connotations to it, that it didn’t offend us and we liked it. It was the only name that made us all laugh and that we all liked. The name is not very important; I think what happens is that you try to find a name that is original so that when your style or whatever it is that you’re doing gets identified with the name, so Talking Heads now means something particular. It means us. Well, it still means what it did the way the cameramen use it, for TV people, but it’s not something like some sorta particular name which connotates heavy metal or anything like that. We didn’t try to find a name which would suit our music, we figured it would work the other way around. The group would define the name, not the name define the group.

Chapter Two: Post-concert party interview with David Byrne

Bernie: Are you influenced by a group like the Troggs as you have played two Troggs songs (“Love Is All Around” and “I Can’t Control Myself”) in your live sets over the past couple of years?
David: I don’t think so, I just liked those. We mainly did that one, “I Can’t Control Myself” a long time ago sort of before the whole punk thing got started. It seemed like a real sort of punky song and they were a real sort of punk group band then, and we just liked it. But then when all this punk thing started happening, we thought we better not do that. It seemed like there were plenty of other people doing that sort of material.

Bernie: You’ve fooled around with playing Ramones songs?
David: Yeah, a year ago in Boston we did “Boyfriend.” We did that a couple of times. It sounded great. That was when I used the acoustic and I just turned it all the way up so it would sound like the Ramones, but it really didn’t.

Bernie: In your [Sire] press bio it states that there was a time when you thought that Tina would be the lead singer?
David: I don’t think so. I don’t remember that; maybe it was brought up but I don’t remember that.

Bernie: Do you ever think you should use more harmonies and try for that kind of sound?
David: Jerry [Harrison] sings sometimes but maybe if we get better we could do that, but it’s a really hard thing to do and make it sound right. I don’t think we’re able to do it yet.

Bernie: What are some of your favorite recording artists presently?
David: I really like Booker T & the MGs’ records from a while ago. I really like James Brown. I really like that group Parliament and Funkadelic, and stuff like that. I like them but I don’t like KISS, although some people might think there was some sort of similarity. I got the new Randy Newman record; I liked that. I’ve been listening to a lot of foreign stuff like music from Japan and Bulgaria, and things like that.

Bernie: Do you think it’s influenced your writing?
David: Not yet.

Chapter Three: Post-concert Backstage by the Elevator Interview with Jerry Harrison

Bernie: Were there a lot of old Modern Lovers songs that didn’t come out on the first Modern Lovers’ LP?
Jerry: Oh yes, another album’s worth (Some titles: “Tenderness,” “I’m Straight,” “She Takes the Pill for Me”).

Bernie: Were any real, real great ones?
Jerry: You know the song “Government Center”? We have a great version; we (original Modern Lovers) did that song. “I’m Straight” is really good.

Bernie: Do you think that stuff will ever come out?
Jerry: I doubt it. It should. I wish they made a single out of “Old World” and “She Cracked.”

Bernie: “Old World” is like my favorite song offa the album…
Jerry: Those two came out pretty well as far as the recording sounded.

Bernie: Did you immediately fit in with Talking Heads?
Jerry: Yeah. It was sort of amazing. Every time we played together it just got better and better, and just got to the point of “Well, alright, it can’t come any further doing this now and then so let’s try it.” And it’s been real good.

Bernie: Do you think you’ll be writing songs for Talking Heads?
Jerry: I hope so. You never know how compatibility will work. Songwriting is a very funny thing in a band because everyone really does enter into the way it sounds; the arrangement. And often the arrangement really starts to influence the way the song is, so it’s very hard to define what you mean by song. A lot of times it’s best for one person to come up with some sort of original conception and take it from that point. People enter in too early and it just gets confusing.

Bernie: Yeah, a lot of the songs seem drastically different from the early days…
Jerry: Yeah, that’s the case. Cos it certainly isn’t like you feel that you’re not involved in the process.

Bernie: Do you like any bands you’ve seen in New York or Europe?
Jerry: I love the Ramones, who we played with in Europe. I think they’re wonderful. I saw the Clash; I thought they were alright. I think they might turn into a real good band; they’re getting to play all the time and they have a real following, and those things are great nurturing experiences, but as far as strictly taking them for their music, it sounds like I’ve heard it all before. So I don’t know what to say, I think the politics are a little bit bullshit, at least when I talked to them. Having been through politics in the United States with the war in Vietnam, I see that they’re angry about things but they don’t have any developed ideas about them; there’s no theory behind it. But maybe I didn’t talk to the right person, so I really don’t know.

Bernie: Do you like any other bands?
Jerry: Well, I haven’t seen Television except when they first got started. They wanted Ernie [Brooks], the old bass player in the Modern Lovers to play with them when Richard Hell left. So I went with him to go see them and at that time I thought they were just dogshit. You gotta see that at that time we came out of a band who we thought could’ve gone everywhere and to just start playing with a band that was nowhere… it’s a very hard thing to go backwards, but yet maybe he shoulda done it. But at that time I didn’t really like them. I haven’t seen them now; I like their record O.K. [“Little Johnny Jewel,” Ork Records]. I didn’t like it that much when I first heard it but I’ve heard it more and it’s grown on me.

Bernie: What do you think of all the current Boston stuff?
Jerry: Well, I like the Real Kids. The Cars are real good; the original drummer from the Modern Lovers [David Robinson] plays with them. I think in general bands in Boston are still influenced by the English sound, sorta like Aerosmith, being a combination of the Yardbirds and Stones. They’re friends of mine; I like them. I don’t have any idea if I would really like them… you see, the Modern Lovers and they… we were ahead of them in a way at some point. Like J. Geils had gotten up there, and then we would; and there was this band called the Sidewinders, they used to live in my apartment. Ernie used to play with them… So anyway, we were sort of the next group, the next group of bands that were gonna make it, so I feel this real allegiance to Aerosmith. Even if they played the worst shit in the world, I’d still stand by them and I do think they’ve developed more of their own sound, and they have something. I don’t think they’re the most amazing band in the world or the most original…

Bernie: Why did the original Lovers break up?
Jerry: Just personalities.

Bernie: What do you think of Jonathan’s current stuff?
Jerry: I’m not wild about it. I mean, I think it’s sort of interesting, but it’s not exciting to me. That’s really why I didn’t want to continue, because it was all his personality. If you really like his personality, then that’s great. I don’t think his personality is that great.

Bernie: Yeah, cos it seems to me that early Modern Lovers was his personality plus a really solid band…
Jerry: Yeah… early Modern Lovers. He was a teenager who’d gone through this unhappy childhood and he’d written some incredible songs that expressed that unhappiness. We all realized that.

Chapter Four: First Telephone Conversation with Tina Weymouth, Part Two

Bernie: Do you have favorite foods?
Tina: Oh, yes. I like avocadoes an awful lot. We don’t really eat a lot of desserts, like candy or anything like that. Everybody in the band has their own tastes. David will eat anything. He likes baked beans for breakfast. He eats anything at all. Put it in front of him and he’ll eat it. We’re not very finicky eaters. We all eat just about everything. I guess that’s because we’ve all travelled a lot. Wherever you go, you eat the food that’s there, and you learn to acquire a taste for a lot of different things. The only thing I don’t like is sauerkraut. But everything else I like.

Ode to a Mixed Tape: No Messages Music +1

Text © Robert Barry Francos
Images from the Internet

This is a tape I made for someone else around 1990-91. It’s geared towards things I thought she may like. Below, I put as many of the actual recordings I used (all from albums rather than CDs), though I could not always find the studio version of the song on the ‘Net (came to the closest).
SIDE ONE

Baja Marimba Band - Ghost Riders In the Sky
Along with Herb Albert’s Whipped Cream and Other Delights (for his rendition of “A Taste of Honey”), the BMB was popular in my parent’s collective group. This particular cover has always been a favorite of mine since we got the album in ’66. Johnny Cash’s classic, which many consider the definitive one (along with the Highwaymen) was great, but the BMB’s is an insane rave-up with hoots, hollers and horns (and a xylophone!). There are a number of time changes, all leading up to a fading, happy party.

Lenny Kaye Connection - I’ve Got a Right
If anyone has read my “Ode” series before, they’ll know I champion Lenny’s only solo full release as the LKC. This song has a video somewhere – I know, I’ve seen it – and the song should rightfully have been a breakthrough for him. Aimed at the Religious Right during the Reagan years, Lenny strongly explains that he has the right to keep his “freedom of choice.” He further states, “I don’t mind sayin’ / That I don’t mind prayin’ / But I don’t like to be told how.” Backed by a strong rhythm section and organ, he masterfully builds the song with fierceness and melody. He may be crazy like a fox, but this song is hardly subtle.

Blue Angel - I Had a Love
Before Cyndi Lauper became Cyndi “Girls Just Wanna” Lauper, she fronted this excellent Long Island rock band. As she later proved with her cover of the Brains’ “Money Changes Everything,” Cyndi knows how to rock out. This song is more of a ‘60s style ballad, but it’s beautiful and she certainly shows her range. Though a lot of Cyndi’s early solo stuff has been overplayed, her Blue Angel material deserves to be heard more.
Mystic Eyes - Calm Me Down
Off the Mystic Eyes’ first full lengther on Get Hip Records, this cover of the Human Expression tune is masterfully handled by Bernie Kugel and crew. Solid garage pop out of Buffalo (though this sounds like it could have come from the Pacific NW of the ‘60s), this song is well suited for Bernie’s voice. The production is sparse, as it should be, and backed with Eric Lubstorf’s 12-sting hugging the circular melody, Craig Davison’s bass line and Scott Davison on skins, this brings this tune to a whole new level without drowning it in studio trickery.

Dream Academy - Life in a Northern Town
Speaking of studio-work, this tune is true wall-of-sound gloss. I have to admit, at the time, I liked the song, but for me, I’ve grown a bit weary of it. Its sing-along chant was charming, but now seems to just go on and on. Plus it seems both cheery and overwrought at the same time. Tastes do change. I have the album this came off of, but honestly, I can’t remember a single other piece from it. Like “C’mon Eileen,” it is a one-hit wonder in the ‘States.

Marshall Crenshaw - Someday Someway
Yes, more people know the Robert Gordon cover, and he did a bang-up job, but Crenshaw’s original is still the far superior. His jangly, Beatles-esque guitar holds up the piece, which is extremely catchy, poppy, and bouncy. Though guitar-based, the vocals are right up front, as they rightfully should be. Crenshaw’s career may be overshadowed by this tune, but this is a classic piece of songwriting, and something of which to be proud.

Divinyls - Siren Song
I realize this Australian band is better known for their salacious “I Touch Myself” and “Pleasure and Pain,” but I always thought the material off their earlier album, Desperate, was far superior, including “Boys In Town,” and especially “Elsie.” “Siren Song” is a fun co-shared vocal of love and desperation (as is much of their material), which strangely and effectively includes most of the alphabet. Lead vocalist Christina Amphlett’s transition from off-kilter schoolgirl in this period to later sex-bomb may have been technically successful, but there was something lost. Besides, her dumping a pitcher over her head when she performed this song live is pretty intoxicating: www.youtube.com/watch?v=4bCLdMY-hOA

Ray Charles - Busted
It’s hard to say this is one of Ray Charles’ best tunes, as he was amazing so often, but I will posit that this is one of my faves. While sad, this blues number also has a very dark sense of humor (“I went to my brother to ask for a loan / ‘Cause I was busted… / My brother said ‘there ain’t a thing I can do… / And I was thinking ‘bout calling on you / ‘Cause I’m busted’”). Walter Lure also does a great cover of the song, by the way, on his Waldo’s Rent Party. Note that the video below is live, not the studio version on the tape.

Harry Chapin - If My Mary Were Here
While I found this song to be a touching number about loneliness and asking for forgiveness, the person I gave this tape to found it to be an ego trip for the protagonist, who has mistreated his ex- and only wants her back because he’s afraid of being alone, not because he cares about her. I can understand both views, honestly, yet I still find this middle-of-the-night-regret moving. Chapin may be an acquired taste for some, but once you get it, you’re rarely dissatisfied. There used to be a video of this, but now I can’t find it.

Sam Chalpin - Satisfaction
Where to even begin on this one? Sam is the father of Ed, the man who first recorded Jimi Hendrix (and my ex-boss), who was a cantor in his synagogue and felt he was a better singer than most of the music on the radio in the ‘60s. Ed took some background tracks and had his father do sort of a karaoke with them, such as this one, and “Leader of the Pack.” Hearing this elder Jewish man with a thick Yiddish accent singing these songs is truly priceless. Hysterically funny, one also needs to admire and marvel at Sam’s chutzpah. Though easy to laugh at Sam, I respect the man more, and howl in his honor.

Side Two

Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians - What I Am
The New Bohemians were going nowhere until Edie joined them, and then resented that she got all the attention. She left after a couple of albums and then they all disappeared. She married Paul Simon, pushed out a bunch of kids, and put out a failed solo release. But in all of this, Edie and the NB released a few really fine songs, such as “Circle,” “Little Miss S” (for Edie Sedgwick), and this one. While a bit lyrically overwrought with cutesiness (“Throw me in the shallow water / Before I get too deep”), the jazzy melody sustains it, along with her unique sounding voice (and stage stance).

Rutles - Ouch!
They may have been formed as a spoof of the Beatles, but the Rutles produced some mighty fine music in their own right, such as this revisionist / interpretation of “Help!” Neil Innis, known to many Monty Python fans, does a superb Lennon-esque take (as he does a great Dylan take-off with “I Suffered For Your Music Now It’s Your Turn,” or his own “How Sweet to be an Idiot,” both worth seeking out). As a stand-alone, this – er – stands on its own.

Hollies - Bus Stop
Truthfully, the Hollies aren’t one of my favorite Mersey Beat-era bands. “He Ain’t Heavy” is okay, and I detest the nails-on-chalkboard “Carrie-Ann,” but that being said about the band generally, specifically, I love this song. Perhaps it’s the key changes or the harmonious melody. There is a sanctified and stunning video done to this song by a television program called Déjà View (see below) that shows the life of the couple in the song from the bus stop’s perspective (and was clearly ripped off in the Hugh Grant walking through the market scene in Notting Hill, which uses the great Bill Withers’ tune, “Ain’t No Sunshine,” which I’ve also included below as a bonus so you can see what I mean).

Theme to Grand
Grand was a two-season television show from early 1990 that had a killer theme song. I’ve included two versions of it here, first and second season, respectively. The first, season one, is more general (but the sound on the video is better), and the one included on this tape. The second shows the cast and is more championed by the fans of the show (check out the very young Sara Rue!). It had a killer cast, such as Pamela Reed and Bonnie Hunt, but like many of the Hunt sit-coms, it came and went very fast and not appreciated by many. This tune has stayed with me all these years.


Monkees - You Just May Be the One
Is there anyone else left who hasn’t’ realized that Mike Nesmith was the most musically talented of the bunch (and yes, they all deserve to be in the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame)? This, along with his solo efforts of “Joanne” and “The Crippled Lion,” are great country-tinged pop songs that even Mike’s own post-Elephant Parts period hasn’t topped. Boyce & Hart wrote some amazing tunes for the boys, but Mike luckily got to sing some originals. Well, considering how the network felt about the band’s original material, we were lucky to have even heard it. Sadly, the only on-line version I found was this awful live one.

Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers - Abominable Snowman in the Market
This reggae-infused nonsense ditty is a perfect example of why JR’s “phase 2” (as it were) was so popular. It’s a great song. Usually I rankle at white guys doing reggae (the Police, the Clash), but this is just so innocent and cute, without being saccharine. It was during this period when I first saw JR and the Modern Lovers play in 1977 on Long Island, and I knew this album before his darker, first one (which contained the breakthrough “Road Roadrunner”). “Snowman” seemed so off the wall to me back then, and charmed me instantly. I’ve had the good fortune of seeing JR a number of times now, and videotaped him getting interviewed for Videowave cable access show. Most of the populace know him from his minstrel bit in the film There’s Something About Mary, but he is so much more than that. JR has had more incarnations than Madonna, and every chapter is unique and noteworthy. The version on the tape is studio-recorded, and the video, obviously, is not.

Roger Miller - In the Summertime
I had an early version of a greatest hits collection during my formative years, which started with his biggest hit, “King of the Road,” but the collection is just chocked full of great music. My enjoyment of old tyme country is most likely rooted in that album, and rests squarely on the shoulders of the brilliant Roger Miller. I mean, “Dang Me,” “England Swings,” “Engine Engine No. 9,” and the list goes on. This particular song is a rave-up with Miller’s often-present country scat. And this is certainly not to be confused with Mongo Jerry’s piece of crap. RIP, RM. Here is a link to a later, live version: www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lEC7JsBTxA (embedding was not allowed).

Leon Redbone - Ain’t Misbehavin’
Redbone made his mark on Saturday Night Live and became a hit. Unfortunately, his tendency to sit on stage with his hat over his face sort of had a toll on his career. His distinct voice and style is instantly recognizable. This cover of the Fats Waller classic has remained one of my Redbone faves over the years. The video is a recent live clip; nice to see he still has some career left.

Kimm Rogers - Right By You
I’ve mentioned this song before on this blog. Kimm has had a couple of albums out (that I know of – and own), and her first remains one I can listen to repeatedly from beginning to end. It’s called Soundtrack of My Life, which is a totally appropriate name, as it seems she talks about the minute thoughts that pass through her brain, and it’s usually something that strikes a chord with the listener. I have never had a chance to see Kimm perform live, sadly, but it would please me enormously to thank her for many hours of listening pleasure.

Dave Edmunds - I Knew the Bride
Gee, yet another great song off the Get It album. It’s the record that just won’t end when it comes to astonishing music. I still remember my jaw dropping when I first heard it in the late ‘70s. This rave-up made me think of a friend down south that married a straight good-ole-boy. Somehow, though, I knew she would rock’n’roll again…and she did (and does) – without him. Now she’s married to a rocker, where she belongs. But I digress. This song was on my playlist when I got married, because I wanted something that would raise the roof. The live video version does not match the studio recording on the tape, but it still rocks.