Loftholdingswood

The Secret Museum: The Hare Krishnas, The Misunderstood, & Me

2011-12-30T08:24:00.001-07:00

I have had a long standing interest in the Hare Krishna movement since the first time I bumped into them outside of the Spectrum arena in Philadelphia. They were distributing their magazines and selling incense on a hot summer day in July of 1975 before the rock band Yes played later that night. Through the years I've read a lot of their books and visited the Radha - Krishna Temple in West Philly a number of times, I haven't tired in keeping track of what has happened to "them" these last 35 plus years. There is something fascinating to me about this large group of American devotees that have renounced meat eating, alcohol, gambling, and sex ( other than sex for procreation), and also accepted a 16th century Bengali holy man from India, Caitanya Mahaprabhu, as the incarnation / avatar of God (Krishna). Krishna appeared as Caitanya to bring the singing and chanting of the Lord's holy name to the masses during these harsh godless times known as Kali - yuga (which we are still in). Hare Krishna Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna Hare Hare. Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama Hare Hare.

Fast forward to December 28, 2011 and I've been reading up on all of the recent ISKCON ( International Society for Krishna Consciousness) related news. Two or three times a year I'll check out the numerous web / blog sites and try and get a feel for the current issues that they are dealing with.The whole modern Hare Krishna movement was begun single handily by a 69 year old Indian reunciate preacher In a small Second Ave. N.Y.C. storefront in 1966. It slowly splintered apart almost from the day the founder of ISKCON, A.C.Bhaktivedanta Prabhupada, died in November of 1977. Before passing away he named eleven senior devotees to be in charge, but all too quickly there were various power struggles and conflicts that still haven't been totally resolved as of today. The late 1970's, and into the 1980's sadly had numerous cases of young children being sexually molested in the movement's school system, and many of the original eleven handpicked disciples that formed the Governing Body Commission (GBC) had either quit (" fell down" ), died, or been forced to resign over various sex, drugs, and money issues. ISKCON today is very vibrant in its native India, and has had varying degrees of success in finding new devotees in Eastern Europe, Africa and Asia. The U.S. temples have gradually changed from a proselytizing emphasis based on distributing Prabhupad's books, to one of retrenchment that now largely caters to the local Indian communities that are their major support group. The counter - culture in 1966 was ready to throw off all of the "Establishments" views including having a career focused life, with traditional Christian values and rituals. More than a few people decided to tune in, turn on, and drop out. But it wasn't all drugs that they were turning on to.

I googled Santa Fe, New Mexico ( where I now live) for things related to Hare Krishna and got a wide assortment of choices to investigate. I wasn't surprised at all to see that in 1968 Santa Fe had one of the first ISKCON temples opened in the U.S.A. on Water Street, not far from the historic downtown plaza. New Mexico has been home to many religious denominations, hippie communes, art communes, writer groups and just about every alternative life style choice that North America has to offer. Currently the Vedic Cultural Center is one of the few Hindu related organizations active in nearby Pecos, NM and is led by Hamsavatar Das (Howard Beckman), and his wife. He was a disciple of Prabhupad in the 1970's/80's and has commented through the years on all of the changes ISKCON has gone through, and is also an esteemed Vedic astrology and gem specialist. His website led me back to google where I found another Krishna devotee named Hrisikesh (Richard Shaw Brown)who also currently specializes in gems, but has an interesting footnote in his personal biography. Richard Shaw Brown was the lead singer in a legendary California psychedelic rock band from 1966 named The Misunderstood.

The Misunderstood have a great web page at www.themisunderstood.com/band, and you should definitely check that out, loads of audio clips and info there to bone up on. I immediately sent that weblink to my friend and Secret Museum founder Mike Mooney, knowing that he would appreciate all things related to psychedelic/garage bands circa 1966. After emailing him, I suddenly had the feeling he might had heard of them, even though they were a very obscure group with little recognition. Mike is currently the lead singer/guitarist in the New Mexico garage rock band Manby's Head with Peter Greenberg. I then decided to google - The Misunderstood,Manby's Head, and was surprised to find on the 6th entry on the page a link to LOFTHOLDINGSWOOD, MY OWN BLOG SITE WITH MR. MOONEY!! Mike had indeed mentioned The Misunderstood in a piece he had written a year before on guitarist Randy Holden.

So what does this all mean? I guess anyone can play an Internet version of six degrees of Kevin Bacon, but I didn't think my googling of Hare Krishna would lead so quickly back to my own blog site! Maybe it means Mike is destined to join up with Richard Shaw Brown and create some intense music with him in 2012 ( I just hope we get more Greenberg / Mooney music in the new year). The Mayans were right, we have to expect a lot of big changes this coming year, and Hamsavatar Das agrees wholeheartedly with massive changes due based on where the planets are aligned right now. I was thinking of having Hamsavatar Das work up a full astrological reading on me, the real advanced type where they need not only your exact date and time of birth, but your parents exact date and time of birth as well. It's not a bad deal, for $175.00 I'll know what to personally expect in 2012. Instead, maybe one of these days I'll finally realize that all you have to do is chant Hare Krishna, ... and be happy.

Happy New Year,
Jim Webb

Update

2011-02-25T06:32:00.000-07:00

The Horse Fly does not appear to be returning to print. We haven't shopped the column elsewhere. Jim should be filling space here soon.
-mm

The Soul of Peter Greenberg

2011-01-06T05:21:00.000-07:00

The Secret Museum
by Jim Webb

It’s not often that you meet a solar company executive who is also one of the most underrated guitarists in America. Many in the Taos Valley can now make that claim since Peter Greenberg and his wife Milissa moved to Arroyo Seco in 2008. Music aficionados of the local rock scene have seen him playing with Manby’s Head in a garage rock style, and a recent show at the KTAO Center had Peter on stage with his old Rock n’ Soul group Barrence Whitfield & The Savages. Throw in his previous membership with Boston punk group DMZ and the ‘60’s influenced Lyres and you have someone who has attacked his fret board with a passion in a variety of styles these last thirty-five years, with no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

He is a music fan, as well as a writer and performer of songs, but his music collection isn’t like mine or yours. First of all he doesn’t buy cds, only old style vinyl 45s and LPs are allowed into his home. He has turned his back on any mainstream release through the years, and concentrates with a gold miner’s intensity in looking for lost nuggets in a variety of styles that others have missed. Listening to forgotten swing / jump blues artists from the 1940’s like Louis Jordan and Bullmoose Jackson, along with old time country singers from the 1950’s including Floyd Tillman, Webb Pierce and Moon Mullican is his idea (and mine) of a fun evening. Obscure blues artists and rockabilly bands form another core of his library that pretty much ends by the late 60’s. His real passion though falls under the category of Soul music. There has been a lot of Soul Music sub -genres through the years including Memphis Soul, Philly Soul, Detroit Soul, Chicago Soul, and the broader, overlapping Northern Soul. Detroit Soul, more popularly known as Motown, had the most mass commercial appeal, while Philly Soul generally had more of a “sweeter” sound than the grittier Stax/Volt label artists who recorded in Memphis. Chicago Soul had at times a harder blues edge, and Northern Soul is a general catchall phrase for a lot of obscure artists from the North who never had hit records but released a lot of quality music. Northern Soul also caught on big in certain U.K. clubs during the 60’s and 70’s that were specializing in playing these lesser known Soul musicians. No matter how you classify Soul records, it always has a lot of feeling inside the grooves.

I spent an evening with Peter recently, and he kept pulling out rare and unknown Soul 45s while we discussed the various artists on the small Chicago labels of Onederful and Mar - V- Lus. He recorded the songs he played onto a cdr; here are a few of what we listened to:

1.) Carl O. Jones / Betty Everett – “Days Gone By” (Chicago / Northern Soul). Betty had a hit with the “Shoop Shoop Song”, this was less commercial, but just as satisfying.

2.) Johnny Sayles – “You Told a Lie” (Chicago Soul). Deep, wrenching tale of loss and betrayal.

3.) Soul Brothers Six – “Your Love is Such a Wonderful Love” (Rochester, N.Y.) Five brothers and a friend, uptempo group who recorded on the Atlantic label

4.) Otis Clay – “I Got to Find a Way” (Chicago Soul). Powerful vocalist still
performing live.

5.) Alvin Cash – “Twine Time” (Chicago Soul) Big instrumental hit in 1965

6.) McKinley Mitchell – “A Bit of Soul” (Chicago Soul). One-derful label, he epitomizes the talented, unknown mid – sixties Soul artist.

7.) Bobby Moore & the Rhythm Aces – “Go Ahead and Burn” (Alabama). The Deep South never sounded so good.

8.) Freddie Scott – “I’ll Be Gone” (Rhode Island). Knock out lost single on the Shout label.

9.) Eddie Floyd – “Big Bird” (Memphis Soul). Lesser known song than his big hit “Knock on Wood”

10.) Johnnie Taylor – “Love Bones” (Memphis Soul). Stax / Volt label magic.

In one evening of playing music we didn’t even scratch the surface of his massive collection of hard to find records. Singers like O.V.Wright and Harold Burrage will have to be saved for another day. After repeated listening to the cd he made for me, I learned more than a few things. Johnny Sayles has Soul. Bobby Moore has Soul. Freddie Scott has Soul. Peter Greenberg has Soul.

The F – Word

2011-01-05T05:38:00.003-07:00

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb

It has a deep impact on most people when heard, no matter what the circumstances might be. It’s also an adjective that can be used to describe a whole range of feelings and emotions when calmer vocabulary seemingly just won’t do. A lot of people refuse to even utter the letters that comprise its meaning, because by even saying it you have accepted a certain responsibility for choosing such a descriptive word. There are some who freely accept it as an expressive term, while others have run away from it for as long as they’ve heard its sound. Yes, I am talking about the musical category known as Fusion.

A recent concert appearance in Santa Fe by Fusion pioneer John McLaughlin has reopened this long running debate on the merits of this style of music. He is the pre-eminent Fusion musician on the planet, still releasing new cds and touring all over the world at sixty-eight years of age. He has played the guitar for the last sixty years and has been at the forefront of this highly technical brand of music since its creation in the late 1960’s. No one that has ever seen or heard John McLaughlin play would doubt that he has a tremendous command of the guitar. Not only does he play at times with a blazing pace on the fret board, but he is also a master improviser in the great Jazz tradition. What has made McLaughlin such an imposing figure is that he does have more than just technical virtuosity plugged into his amp. There is a lyricism to the guitar lines that he endlessly weaves, and he has also proven himself to be one of the original innovators in creating a true World Music style. He has played with both Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix, and that high octane mixture of jazz and rock is what Fusion is all about. His 70’s electric band Mahavishnu Orchestra had some of the best musicians around (Cobham, Goodman, and Hammer), while he later created Shakti as a vehicle to explore his interest in Indian music. Guitarists Jeff Beck and Pat Metheny have both called John the best guitarist in the world, lofty praise from two highly respected musicians. His performance with The Fourth Dimension band was a microcosm of all things good and bad that have been debated about Fusion since its creation. Excessive soloing might be a downer for some, but how do you argue with such mind blowing technical virtuosity? Others might cry about a lack of “songs” (a la Burt Bacharach), but these four musicians exhibited a cohesion rarely seen that trumped any mundane need for familiar tunes. If someone said it sounded like a guitar / drum clinic at times I wouldn’t argue, but what a sound they threw at us! Etienne M’bappe was a revelation with his unique bass lines, while Mark Mondesir kept the drum seat red hot all night long. Keyboardist Gary Husband added a lot of tasteful licks with McLaughlin the whole evening smiling as if he had finally found that lost chord he’d been searching for all these years. John called himself just an aging hippie at one point during the concert, and that humility rang as true as any note from his guitar. Like a Zen master patiently waiting for his future students to find him, McLaughlin has explored the fret board in a variety of styles throughout his life, and has stayed open to its possibilities. Many people aspire to be the best at what they do, but hard work and skill will only get you so far. After many years he came to the realization that a true master doesn’t just play the guitar, you also have to let the guitar play you.

Immediately after the final notes ended a concert goer one row away from me leaned over to his friend and said - “what do you think”? After forty years people still don’t know what to make of it. If you have any doubts buy John’s latest cd entitled “To The One”, after listening to it then you’ll know exactly what side of the fence you’re on. When it comes to the F-Word, I don’t give a f**k what anyone else says. McLaughlin’s Fusion. I love it.

Peace,
Jim Webb

To 1971 and Back Again: T.S. McPhee and his Mighty Groundhogs; America Cried

2010-12-07T18:14:00.000-07:00

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb and Michael Mooney

The Groundhogs—Split
(Liberty Records/United Artists 1971)
At first I don’t believe the things I thought the night before,
But now they come back like a torrent of ignorance once more,
I can’t accept life isn’t a dream; it doesn’t seem real any more,
My mind and body are two things, not one.
T.S. McPhee (Split Part Three)

Making the most of the LP record format, Tony (T.S.) McPhee utilizes the first side of his claustrophobic masterpiece, Split, 1971’s sixth bestselling album in the United Kingdom (!), to document his (subsequently recognized as mistaken) descent into schizophrenia. I believe it’s the Post-Sixties Life-In-London Comedown he’s describing here—see Ray Davies’ Muswell Hillbillies LP for further proof that 1971 wasn’t the best of times to be residing in The Smoke—or maybe just the drugs, but McPhee does a convincing job of relating the terror of psychic disconnect regardless of its nature (I should know).

Briefly John Lee Hooker’s UK backup group, The Groundhogs use the archetypal Power Trio format, a la Cream, Experience, Cheer, Grand Funk, and Budgie (Budgie!) as a springboard for uniquely furious and unglued shape-changing riffage, with a flair all their own for spontaneous shifts in tone and rhythm. This definitive ‘Hogs lineup of T.S., Peter Cruickshank and Ken Pustelnik play an equivocal configuration of Rock: Blues-derived in the loosest sense (more a mood than a style), but stripped of all Brit B-Boom artifice, then layered with dense distortion, wah wah-fired guitar dementia, and an unsettling lyrical fatalism. I call it Punk Rock. The four Splits (Parts One, Two, etc.) of side one create a mood of paranoia matched only by Van Der Graaf Generator’s Pawn Hearts (also from 1971, more evidence that maybe it was the times.). Split One set the tone and rocks its multi-tracked-axes-self silly, as T.S. descends into the psychogenic inferno, but the entire side is a monster. Tony doesn’t find any answers by the end of Split Four, though one gets the sense that redemption may be found by flipping over the record.

Almost. Side two modulates the mood a little, but not the attack, beginning with leadoff cut—and hands down bonafide Rock Classic scorcher—Cherry Red. Not much optimism for T.S., though:

All night long I loved her
Morning came too soon
I knew she’d be gone by the afternoon
I said, “Please don’t go”
Still she said goodbye
But as she turned around she had a crafty look in her eye.

All next day I waited for her return
But she didn’t show
The daylight turned to the dark of night
I said, “Please come soon”
Still there was no sign.
As the dawn returned
I knew that look in her eye was just a lie
And I thought it said:
“When the moon rise this evening, you turn round in your bed,
The warmth of my body will heat you,
Make your blood run Cherry Red”

Cruickshank’s bass and, especially, Pustelnik’s unbridled drumming approach brilliance here, yet McPhee’s incandescent playing outguns them both. You will not have lived a full life until you’ve heard this song. The somber, near-gothic ecological paean A Year In The Life follows, then the truly lunatic Junkman (famously covered by The Fall) with its skronky atonal solo guitar that takes up the song’s entire second half. And lest anyone forget that T.S. was/is an expert Blues player (a version of The Groundhogs still exists in 2010), the record ends on a relatively quiet note with a grungy roots version of Hooker’s Groundhog Blues—basically Tony, his masterful vocal, authentically bluesy guitar, and wavering stick tapping for accompaniment.
Also recommended:
Thank Christ For The Bomb (1970)
Who Will Save The World? The Mighty Groundhogs! (1972)
-Michael Mooney

America Cried

In the fall of 1971, singer, songwriter Don McLean released his epic song about experiencing the tumultuous 1960s, entitled “American Pie.” It has a lot of specific and vague references to musical events that shaped his (and our) consciousness while growing up in the 1950s and ’60s. It is also a lament for the idealistic “America” that finally vanished during that same period. The Civil Rights Movement, political assassinations, and events of the Vietnam War changed our country, and the music that was being created became a reflection of those turbulent times. Buddy Holly, J.P. Richardson and Richie Valens were killed in 1959 when their plane crashed near Clear Lake, Iowa, while on tour. Don McLean felt we had lost a whole lot more than just those three gifted musicians, and his tale still resonates to this very day. Much has happened since 1971, so I thought it was time to add a few more verses for these last 40 years.

They were singing,
“Bye – bye miss American pie”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, this’ll be the day that I die.
___________

We mixed Funk and Soul with Rock n’Roll
I thought that sound would never grow old
Some went so high they just drifted away
And while Son of Sam cruised with the power turned off
The studio dancers could never stop
Too busy tasting the real thing in the dark
Freaking out like tomorrow would never come

The King fell over, and never got up
Now he wanders in Vegas, another lied to ghost
Sometimes you got nuthin’ when you think you have it all
The corporate suits still controlled the game
But a Rotten smell wouldn’t go away
So they disguised it with skinny ties and short cropped hair

While JB was discoing all around
The street gangs stole his processed crown
And the Great Black Music slowly faded away
The plastic ono man was then cut down
Bigger than Jesus with the Woodstock crowd
We all gathered in the park, the day the music died

The TV screens replaced the record machines
With grown men dressed like runway queens
All that sprayed up hair only made us laugh
The angry young boys then had enough
Yelling here we are now, entertain us
Some things just don’t ever change

I met a jazz man who played the blues
I asked him for the latest news
He said they’ll call this the Black Holocaust soon enough
Always Rappin’ guns and drugs, the new stars are throwaway thugs
That same song has been playing far too long

Wanting too much fame, has been an expensive ride
Ask the princess if her fare was too high
No one’s heard her answer from the grave
There was a young boy who loved to sing and dance
In front of millions he grew into a lonely man
With his gloved hand he never got to wave goodbye
The day the music died

They were singing,
“Bye – bye miss American pie”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, this’ll be the day that I die.

Don McLean—“American Pie”
Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

The Christmas Letter; Randy Holden: Population I

2010-12-06T05:51:00.010-07:00

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

The Christmas Letter

I’m sure you are familiar with the practice of old friends filling you in with a little too much information as regards the trajectory of their life and children during the past year in a Christmas letter. Triumphant tales of job promotions or high school class achievements from the kiddies are added to what their Golden Retriever is up to for a recap of their important events from the last year. It’s nice to hear that Jennifer made the lacrosse team, or that an old acquaintance is now higher up the corporate ladder, but if someone was a friend you would’ve talked to them (or emailed etc.) occasionally for these updates. Sending an Xmas letter seems like a great cover for not wanting to actually speak to a person, but you make sure they know all about your “big accomplishments” from the past year. The only problem is that you never get to hear about the really important stuff. I’m talking about what new musical infatuations they’ve gotten into; like a late adult entry into Glam, or finally having a deep Sinatra immersion. In response to such routine letters I have decided to compose my own year end Holiday recap that will bring everyone up to date on what I consider to be the key music events that I have experienced in the last twelve months.

2010 will be remembered by me as the year when Taos favorites Manby’s Head played their first live shows. Mr.’s Greenberg, Mooney, Reid, and Whitlock broke out of their rehearsal space near Arroyo Seco and brought their brand of garage / psych- rock to the masses. They played several shows at Seco Pearl, and also raised hell at The Shadows Bar & Grill, as well as playing through a minor dust storm outdoors at the Kannaroo Festival near Questa in June. Add in their Santa Fe and Albuquerque gigs and they became a thirst quenching drink for New Mexicans that were parched by the continually dry local music scene. Two other club shows stood out during the year, The Meat Puppets at the Santa Brewing Co. in May, and a series of shows in September by Barrence Whitfield & The Savages. The Puppets brought their mangled sound of hard rock, punk and psychedelic cowboy tunes up from Tucson and entertained a packed crowd with a great set. Barrence Whitfield is a soul shouter that hails from the Boston area, his good friend and guitarist Peter Greenberg of Arroyo Seco reunited the original Savages for three gigs in New Mexico, and the KTAO Center show in September was a welcome blast of fresh air for these parts.

A lot of new infatuations did occur (Blue Note record label - see earlier Secret Museum /Horse Fly), but certainly the biggest was a 100 CD collection that I stumbled upon from the German Membran Label. Every jazz song that charted from 1917 to 1954 was included on this epic compilation of old Ragtime, Swing and Jazz tunes. Detailed liner notes helped bring the music of Fletcher Henderson, Benny Goodman, and hundreds of others back to life. We are now quite a bit away from the original 1935 – 1940 explosion of the Swing Band era, but all I can say is that current bands like Arcade Fire and Maroon 5 forced me into cannon balling toward the past for new kicks. The biggest disappointment has to have been the recent cd from Hobbs, New Mexico native Ryan Bingham titled “Junky Star”. He was on an upward flight after releasing “Roadhouse Sun”, and sharing a Grammy for his song in the movie “Crazy Heart”, but this was a step in the wrong direction. He abandoned his slashing rock band sound, for a mostly dull collection of late night campfire songs that could only be recommended as a sleep aid.

The best concert of the year was a no brainer – Roger Waters “The Wall” was a spectacular multi media extravaganza that had epic ticket prices ($99.00 - $250.00) as well. This intense story from the ex-Pink Floyd bassman included a German Messerschmitt fighter plane smashing into the wall early on, and the huge mechanical puppets and other effects surprisingly never dwarfed his core tale of alienation, and rage at all forms of institutional control(All in all we’re just another brick in the wall). Part Broadway show, part Rock concert, a total success in creating thought provoking entertainment. A dream come true for progressive rock music fans, grab the DVD when it finally comes out if you didn’t make it to one of the shows.

I didn’t get promoted at work, my car has over 100,000 miles on it, and I’m trying to downsize everything in the wake of the continuing economic recession (except buying CDs and concert tickets of course). The good news is that 2011 is just around the corner, and there’s still a lot of great music to be discovered.

Merry Christmas,
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Randy Holden’s Sonic Adventure: The Fender IV, Sons Of Adam, The Other Half, Blue Cheer, Population II

Self-proclaimed (with justification) Guitar God (and gear head), Randy Holden’s recording career began in 1964 with Los Angeles’ Surf-influenced Fender IV. Signed to Imperial Records, their entire output consists of six reverb-drenched songs that owe more than a nod to Dick Dale. 19-year-old Randy already shows a tremendous command of his instrument on these early cuts, though I can’t listen to much Surf Music— kinda makes me edgy (there’s a weird Kenneth Anger/Jayne Mansfield/Big Daddy Roth air about early— and mid AND late—60s L.A. that’s difficult to explain, but it’s evident in everything from dingbat apartment buildings to the Beverly Hillbillies to Ed Kienholz. The whole place reeks of such a creepy pre-memory I’ve-seen-this-somewhere-before vibe that I eventually found it impossible to live there.) Fender IV are particularly spooky sounding, with their proto—ska beat, Middle-East melodies and small room recording atmosphere.

Sons Of Adam trade reverb for sustain, add vocals, and increase the garage factor. The results occasionally sound like The Leaves, or Love minus the songs (and Arthur Lee), plus Jeff Beck on guitar. I also detect traces of The Misunderstood, Beau Brummels and Shadows Of Knight in the mix (none of the dozen cuts I’ve heard would sound out of place on Nuggets.) A pre-Love Michael Stuart contributes some very sharp drumming, and Holden continues to evolve as a guitarist—Beck comparisons aside-— while beginning his initial experiments with volume, feedback and alternate tuning. Good L.A. Pop/proto-psych with Freakbeat leanings.

Transplanted from So Cal to San Francisco, The Other Half’s main claim to fame is Punk classic Mr. Pharmacist. Their lone album suffers from sludgy production and unnecessary cheesy canned audience applause on the opening track, but there’s some great stuff here, notably Flight Of The Dragon Lady, Morning Fire, and Wonderful Day— a Summer of Love stunner about, in Randy’s words, “this guy who's really happy, generally just happy about everything in life. And he's got some girl that is just pissed. So it's a conflict.” With the exception of What Can I Do For You (a BIG exception to some), nowhere is the LP reflective of the contemporaneous San Francisco sound. This is tough psychedelic street punk, similar in certain aspects to the first Amboy Dukes album, and Holden’s work is outstanding. Too bad the record was released in 1968, at least a year past it’s sell-by date.

Randy’s complete Blue Cheer output, consisting of Side Two of 1969’s New! Improved! (three Holden-composed and sung tracks totaling fourteen minutes forty-two seconds), is, ironically, his best-known work. Suffice to say that Holden’s inclination toward heaviness is well matched by Cheer rhythm section Dickie Peterson and Paul Whaley. Drummer Whaley in particular has never sounded better. If Blue Cheer had continued in this vein, they wouldn’t have ended their career playing their first two albums exclusively on the live circuit. Instead, they opted for the prevailing California Mellow approach on the remaining other half (!) of the LP, and future recordings. Randy, meanwhile, just got heavier.

Population II teams Holden with Kak’s Chris Lockheed on an unparalleled study in guitar extremism, or the heaviest record you’ve never heard. Lockheed plays drums and keyboard (simultaneously!!) and Randy does the rest. Sixteen two-hundred watt Sunn amps and a 10-hour-per-day-every-day rehearsal schedule in an empty opera house- the only place big enough to handle the power- set the stage for one massive slab of Strat-fired bedlam (the Sunn getup didn’t do Randy’s Gibson justice, so he switched to Jimi’s axe of choice. Comparisons abound.) Holden takes up the story: “Chris first searched me out after Blue Cheer… So when he had a meeting with me, he said that he also played keyboards. And loving sensationalism as I do, I asked him, ‘Can you play both at once, drums and keyboards?’ He said, ‘Yeah.’ I thought okay, if this guy's got the confidence and the nerve to say that, he's gotta be able to do it. But it was really laborious for him... It was very numerical and mathematical and calculated. It was very difficult to do. And I realized that the job he faced sucked. To me, it would have been no fun at all. Because you're totally restricted. On one side you have to have this soft touch on keyboards, and the other side, you have to be slamming. So your personality’s divided right down the middle. It's amazing that he didn't overdose on schizophrenia.” Consequently, Population II has a slowed down feeling, almost leaden at times (and just about perfect for the emerging Quaalude generation.) And it’s unbelievably loud. Had it been given a proper offical release in 1970 instead of never (there have apparently been more than a few bootleg pressings over the years, and a questionable “legitimate” Swedish cd issuance), this album might be mentioned in the same breath as Black Sabbath’s first or Paranoid, instead of Bloodrock’s second or Kingdom Come.

Partial discography:

Randy Holden Early Works ’64-’66 (Captain Trips CD 1997)
Sons Of Adam- Moxie EP (7” 1981)
The Other Half (Atco LP 1968)
Blue Cheer- New! Improved! (Philips LP 1969)
Randy Holden Population II (unreleased 1970)
-Michael Mooney

Curtains...

2010-12-02T17:35:00.001-07:00

Via email earlier today:

Hello everyone!

I want to let you know that it has been decided to close the Taos Horse Fly. There will not be a December publication. Feel free to submit your pieces to any other publication.

I thank you all for your past contributions and wish you all the best in the future.

For those of you have subscriptions, the remaining balance will be calculated and returned to you.

Lydia Garcia
Publisher

We're not sure what's going on here, but hopefully it'll get sorted out soon. Loftholdingswood and the Secret Museum will continue.

-mm

The Zombies, David Gates and Johnny Otis

2010-11-06T12:21:00.002-06:00

The Secret Museum

By Michael Mooney and Jim Webb

David Gates & Bread vs. The Zombies: A Word of Caution

In the annals of Rock, one would be hard pressed to find two more prominent groups with greater self-esteem issues than The Zombies and Bread. Both were responsible for some of the mid-20th century’s most delicate and tuneful music (in Bread’s case, treacly so), yet were much too sensitive for their own good (in Bread’s case, falsely so.) And both bands displayed varying symptoms of mental illness, and in very different ways. As such, their musical message must be declared extremely dangerous to any potential listener who may be experiencing the slightest hint of emotional vulnerability. The behaviors demonstrated in the following songs are not recommended. Consider this a warning.

The Zombies got off to a good start in the late fall of 1964. Their debut single “She’s Not There” shot to Number Two on the Billboard Top Hot 100 chart and heralded them as strong contenders during the second wave of the British Invasion. The Zombies’ jazzy sophistication set them apart from other less polished chart invaders that autumn, such as The Kinks, Manfred Mann, The Honeycombs and The Rolling Stones. “She’s Not There” reveals the group’s innate sensitivity, but suggests, via Rod Argent’s alternating direct/nebulous lyric and the equally alternating resignation/fury of Colin Blunstone’s vocal, a reluctant indifference to the song’s subject (everybody sing):

Well, no one told me about her—the way she lied
Well, no one told me about her—how many people cried
But it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How would I know, why should I care?
Please don’t bother trying to find her
She’s not there

Well, no one told me about her—what could I do
Well, no one told me about her—though they all knew …

Well, let me tell you about the way she looked
The way she’d act and the color of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool, her eyes were clear and bright
But she’s not there …

This is a very peculiar song. The singer is compelled to describe details of the subject’s physical characteristics and behavior, perhaps indicative of the power she may still hold over him, meanwhile admitting his bewilderment that others (his friends?) had been aware of her deviousness all along, yet chose to keep the secret from him. His anger and confusion are obvious, and who can blame the guy?

Second single “Leave Me Be” (written by bassist Chris White) is a signpost for things to come: Blunstone admits his self-pity over her departure, and would like to be left alone, please, until he’s completely recovered. Alas, it is not to be, for The Zombies’ third single bears all the markings of full-blown psychosis.

With “Tell Her No” (another U.S. Top 10 smash), The Zombies’ psychological sickness (it should be noted that most of these songs are the work of Rod Argent; White’s songs, while occasionally lacking amour propre, rarely approach the self-loathing shame of Argent’s more autophobic material. And to be fair to Rod, not everything he’s composed is like this—how could it be?—but surely enough is like this to make you wonder) becomes fully manifest:

… And if she should tell you “come closer”
And if she tempts you with her charms
Tell her no …

I know she’s the kind of girl who’d throw my love away
But I still love her so
Don’t hurt me now, don’t hurt me now …

And if she should tell you “I love you”
Just remember she said that to me …

The lack of self-respect revealed in these words defies comprehension. Because he is still in love with his ex, Colin is asking her new lover to call off the relationship. The 63 “no’s” repeated during the song (second only to The Human Beinz in the Great Rock Negatives competition) probably won’t help his cause, but if anyone in the history of Planet Earth has ever succeeded in reconciling through the use of this uniquely masochistic method, I would be extremely interested in hearing the details.

Here’s more (from Chris White):

She told me she loved me
With words as soft as morning rain
But the light that fell upon me
Turned to shadow when he came …

Maybe after he’s gone
She’ll come back, love me again …
Once in a while, Rod acknowledges his illness:

… Can’t you see that you were wrong
Can’t you see I knew how long you’d lied and cheated …

If I worry that’s my business, anytime I want to cry
If I want to feed this sickness
Keep away from me
Cause I’ll keep trying till you come on home …
Keep trying till you come on home to me

Mostly, though, it’s more of the same (to differing degrees) forever and ever, or at least until, with the exception of “Maybe After He’s Gone,” of course, Odessey and Oracle.

Any analysis of Bread must begin with the manipulative pack of lies quoted below:

It don’t matter to me
If you really feel that
You need some time to be free
Time to go out searching for yourself
Hoping to find time …
To go to find.

And it don’t matter to me
If you take up with some
One who’s better than me
’Cause your happiness is all I want
For you to find peace …
Your peace of mind.

Lotta people have an ego hang-up ’cause they want to be the only one
How many came before, it really doesn’t matter, just as long as you’re the last
Everybody runnin’ ’round and ’round and tryin’ to find out
What’s been missing in the past.

And it don’t matter to me
If your searchin’ brings you
Back together with me
’Cause there’ll always be an empty room
Waiting for you
And an open heart
Waiting for you
Time is on my side

’Cause it don’t matter to me.

Yes it does matter, liar. David Gates is contemptible. He wants to get back into her pants, plain and simple. He uses words like “don’t” instead of “doesn’t” (and phrases such as “Baby, I’m-a want you” and “I wanna make it with you”) to show that he’s just plain folks, and not some slippery West Coast studio hack (or posh Home County boy like those Zombies.) The hippie sentiments expressed in this song are so unmistakably untrue it’s hard not to laugh: that you must have self-image issues to desire commitment in a relationship. Gates certainly has those issues in spades, as evidenced here:

I found her diary underneath a tree
And started reading about me
The words she’d written took me by surprise
You’d never read them in her eyes
They said that she had found the love she waited for
Wouldn’t you know it, she wouldn’t show it

Then she, confronted with the writing there,
Simply pretended not to care
I passed it off as just in keeping with
Her total disconcerting air
And though she tried to hide
The love that she denied
Wouldn’t you know it, she wouldn’t show it.

And as I go through my life, I will give to her, my wife
All the sweet things I can find

I found her diary underneath a tree
And started reading about me
The words began to stick, and tears to flow
Her meaning now was clear to see
The love she’d waited for was someone else not me
Wouldn’t you know it, she wouldn’t show it

And as I go through my life, I will wish for her, his wife
All the sweet things that she can find
All the sweet things they can find

Oh please. You’ve been made a fool, and that’s the best you can do? At least The Zombies would have gone straight to the other man and begged him to end the romance at once. This instant, my good fellow! Instead, David Gates wishes the both of them all the best “things” in life. Gates is no Gandhi. He probably realized the guy was too big to reckon with and went looking for another Top 10 hit instead (sorry, Dave: this one only got to number 15.)

Finally, in “Everything I Own,” after relating all the wonderful “things” his lady taught him (and I’m positive David Gates is precisely the type of chauvinist to refer to his partner as “my lady”), Gates declares that he would give the title of this song, plus his house, and his heart, and his own life in order to touch her body once more. Which begs the question: if she trained you so well, why did she go? David Gates won’t quite commit to admitting that he took her for granted, though he does go on to warn us against similar behavior. The Zombies would never do that.

Recap:
Zombies
1. She is a liar, my friends provided her cover, but I’d rather give a rundown of her physical attributes. (She’s Not There)
2. I won’t leave this room until I’m certain not to liquefy the next time I see the girl who jilted me. (Leave Me Be)
3. She doesn’t love me; she loves you. But I love her. So please, new boyfriend, don’t hurt me. Break up with her. (Tell Her No)
4. She took off with another. I hope she’ll return once it’s over. (Maybe After He’s Gone)
5. She’s a liar, plus she cheated on me. I admit that I am sick, but I will never give up on her. (I’ll Keep Trying)

Bread
1. If you love someone set them free, ’cause I’m easy like Sunday morning. Also, I’m better than everyone else, so I really don’t care if you never return. But if you do, that’s fine, too, because I’m also a liar. And horny. (It Don’t Matter To Me)
2. I’m not troubled by your “disconcerting air,” probably because I’m a sap. But all the best anyway, even though you’re marrying him when I thought you would be marrying me (because I’d like you to think that I’m easy like Sunday morning, but in reality I’m a sap.) (Diary)
3. You kept me warm, but left with him anyway. And I would die if it meant getting you back, which makes absolutely no sense, but I’ll try anything. Oh, and you people out there: let this be a lesson!
4. I wanna make it with you because life may be short, except it may also be long. (Make It With You)
5. I’m-a keep-a talking like-a this until I’m-a make it with you (apologies to Mark E. Smith) (Baby I’m-A Want You)

-Michael Mooney

Who Is This Man?

He is a member of the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame, the Rhythm n’ Blues Hall of Fame, and the Blues Hall of Fame. This musician was the driving force behind 17 Top Forty R n’ B hits between 1950 and 1969, and during 1950 he had 10 songs appear on the Billboard Retail Rhythm n’ Blues lists. His job duties have included being a singer, writer, producer, band leader, performer, author; TV & radio show host, club owner, community organizer, painter and preacher. Not only has he drummed for The Count Basie Orchestra, but he has also played with everyone from jazz legend Charlie Parker to bluesman T-Bone Walker, R n’ B great Big Joe Turner, and Rock icon Frank Zappa. He discovered and nurtured many great singers like Etta James, Hank Ballard, Jackie Wilson, Big Mama Thornton and Little Willie John. In 1945, his big band had a huge hit with “Harlem Nocturne,” and in 2000 he headlined the San Francisco Blues Festival. The person in question has been described as one of the great unknown renaissance men of the 20th century. His parents were Greek immigrants; with the last name on his birth certificate listed as Veliotes. Known as a great ambassador for African American culture, he just happens to be white.

I’m describing the legendary Johnny Otis, and his remarkable life is the subject of a recent biography by George Lipsitz, titled “Midnight at the Barrelhouse, The Johnny Otis Story.” The Barrelhouse was a music club that Johnny opened in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles in 1947, and he was instrumental in shaping the sound that was to become Rhythm and Blues. Big Band jazz groups were finding it too expensive to stay together in post World War II America, and Johnny was at the forefront of creating music for small combos that played for the black community. Early on, he repeatedly experienced many different forms of racism as a musician. He saw black musicians’ songs that wouldn’t be played on mainstream radio stations become massive hits when inferior versions by white singers were recorded and released. As an olive-skinned ethnic Greek, Johnny passed for being a light-skinned black, but the various problems that he had in the Jim Crow Deep South were truly unique. He always ate and slept with his band members in the black side of town, but Otis tells a poignant story that occurred in 1952 after playing in Memphis, Tennessee. He was refused a hotel room in the black part of town for being white, so he proceeded to a nearby all white neighborhood, only to be refused a room there for being black. You might already know Johnny from his big hit “Willie and the Hand Jive,” but he is much more than just another name on an oldies radio station. The book touches on all phases of his life, including his thoughts and experience of living through the L.A. Watts riots of 1965, as well as becoming a minister late in life.

Johnny Otis doesn’t shy away from making negative comments about White America and their acceptance of the racial status quo that had African Americans treated as third class citizens. His anger and at times bitterness might be too off putting for some people, but are examples to me of his complete honesty in recalling his experiences in life. Johnny retired in 2006, after almost 70 years as a professional musician. George Lipsitz should be commended for such an intimate portrait of a unique individual, and we are lucky that Johnny is still with us today at 88 years of age.

Mr. Otis found a way to connect with many different people—through his music, his social work, and the church pulpit he spoke from. Today’s entertainers think success is measured by how large their bank account is, or how many paparazzi trail them around town. Johnny Otis has consistently shown what it means to be committed to your work, to try and help others in need, and to always give back to the community that has nurtured you. Who is this man? I think the best answer is that he’s a real success.

Jim Webb
webbjuic@comcast.net

Suggested listening: “Midnight at the Barrelhouse” 5-CD box set, JSP label.
Further reading: “Upside Your Head, Rhythm and Blues on Central Ave.” by Johnny Otis.

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Mick Jagger & The Rolling Stones; A Baker’s Dozen For Jim Webb

2010-10-07T06:31:00.004-06:00

The Secret Museum

By Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Death of a Salesman: Sir Michael Philip “Mick” Jagger

He sold because that’s what he did best. Some people knew him only as a musician, a singer, and writer of songs. Mick never straightened them out—part of being a master salesman is letting the customer think they know you, are comfortable with you. No one would ever have considered him an innovator in the musical products he packaged and sold since 1963 with various members of his sales team called The Rolling Stones. The quality of his wares varied considerably, with a noticeable decline in later years. In the fast changing tastes of the pop culture market place, he figured out how to stay active for almost 50 years, when others simply faded away.

“The man knew what he wanted and went out and got it! Walked into a jungle and comes out, the age of 21, and he’s rich!”—Willy Loman*

The last great product he had to sell was from 1972, called “Exile on Main St.” This period was at the tail end of when Jagger still gave a damn about what he was pushing on the showroom floor. His vocals on “Sweet Virginia,” “Loving Cup,” and “Torn and Frayed” have an authenticity that was rarely heard again. What followed in the coming years exposed how naked his ambition was to sell, regardless if it affected his credibility. A track from 1973’s “Goat’s Head Soup” called “Dancing with Mr. D” was complete nonsense, foreshadowing the inconsistent studio and unnecessary live albums to come. It took the young punks selling rebellion in the U.K. to get Jagger & Co. hustling again with “Some Girls” in 1978. By the mid-eighties, Mick was so bored he decided to go solo, before quickly coming to his senses when the sales figures for those efforts were reported. While his old buddy Keith Richards had been mostly chasing drugs, Mick was interested in being a celebrity and chasing women more than anything else.

“Just wanna be careful with those girls, Biff, that’s all. Don’t make any promises. No promises of any kind. Because a girl, y’know, they always believe what you tell them.”—Willy Loman

Mick Jagger was one of the greatest salesmen in the last 50 years. At one time or another he sold sex, seduction, danger, attitude, style, albums, 45s, CDs, DVDs , T-shirts, hats and anything else he could put his big lips logo on. We bought it all, and in the process he became a very rich man. A brief nod should be given to his first manager Andrew Loog Oldham who showed him how to use the media to his advantage. The group formed their own Rolling Stones record label in 1971 to increase profits and cut out the middle man, and also became one of the first to accept corporate sponsorship when touring. Budweiser, Volkswagen, Tommy Hilfiger, Sprint and Levi’s are just a few of the companies that have paid big money to be associated with The Rolling Stones traveling circus. Ultimately, the product that Mick Jagger sold best was always himself.

“The man who makes an appearance in the business world, the man who creates personal interest, is the man who gets ahead.”—Willy Loman

In 2010, “Exile on Main St.” was re-released with a couple of previously unused tracks from the original sessions. After all these years, the strength of the writing and performances from 1972 still stands out as one of the high points in their long catalogue. “Exile” has unfortunately also reminded us that the Mick Jagger who wrote great songs has been a missing person for so long that it is time to officially announce his passing. Mick had a lot of big sales through the years, but his biggest was making people believe he was just a singer in a famous rock n’ roll band. It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Jagger. I won’t forget to put roses on your grave.

“He had a good dream. It’s the only dream you can have—to come out number 1 man.”—Willy Loman

*“Death of a Salesman” by Arthur Miller.

Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

An Interview with Jim Webb

MM: Jim, what is your earliest Rock memory, and why do you suppose it stuck with you through the years?

JW: At first I was going to say seeing The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, then I remembered a special dance I did for parents to an early Herb Alpert/Tijuana Brass hit single. After about 30 seconds of making sure they were my first Rock recollections, I realized that the truth was that on Saturday mornings when I was about five years old (1963) I used to watch a TV show called “Sky King.” I don’t know who the actors were, but it was a Roy Rogers type cowboy show that was unique because the main cowboy flew around in a small airplane solving crimes and helping people. It took place in the Western U.S., and all of the scenery—mountains, boulders and trails—made it seem like a magical place. Not long ago, I researched the show on the Internet and found out it was from the mid fifties, with reruns being shown into the sixties.

MM: I faintly recall Sky King—mainly, I think, because of daughter Penny. But I don’t remember any music. Did the Sky King sing?

JW: That doesn’t ring a bell, him singing, but the combination of him flying a plane and being a cowboy seemed like an exciting life. The Sky King was surrounded by rocks, mountains, etc.…

MM: I see. But that hardly explains your subsequent interest in Rock Music, especially if Penny doesn’t factor in there someplace. Let’s go back to Herb Alpert for a moment. As an eight year-old, I dug him almost as much as The Association. Still do.

JW: My parents didn’t buy a lot of LPs, but they did buy some Herb Alpert & the TJB. My dad loved listening to the mid-sixties Ramsey Lewis Trio and anything by Anthony Newley. “Roar of the Greasepaint, Smell of the Crowd” was played a lot when it came out. The TJB was fun music, and not too complicated.

MM: Miles Davis once said that you could tell a Herb Alpert lead within three notes. Herb probably took that as a compliment.

So a nice mid-sixties Adult Contemporary vibe was going on at the Webb compound? In Philadelphia, you’d hear some of that stuff on the AM giants WIBG and WFIL, but mostly the mellower songs were only played on WIP. That’s where I first encountered The Free Design back in ’68. Did you know Chris Dedrick passed away recently?

JW: I didn’t know Dedrick had died. The first radio station I can remember listening to fanatically was CKLW from Windsor, Ontario, Canada. We lived in Toledo, Ohio, from 1965 to 1969 and that station was close to Detroit— it easily reached us. I have three brothers and four sisters, but my older brother and sister were buying 45s regularly in ’66 & ’67. We weren’t buying albums; the first 45 I can remember buying was The Rolling Stones “Ruby Tuesday.”

MM: Good choice for a very first purchase, and an extremely poppy song. CKLW—were they playing the noisier sounds coming out of Detroit at the time?

JW: A little bit of everything. But mostly they were a Top Forty station that took chances. Things like Bob Seger’s “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” was a monster smash in Toledo/Detroit, and they played The Who’s “Call Me Lightning.” Whatever they played I thought were big hits across the country—turns out some were just regional hits. The first 8-track I bought was The Cream—Best of, 1969. An older neighborhood friend was into The Doors, Hendrix and The Cream.

MM: Same situation in Philly. I always assumed Some Kind Of Wonderful by the Soul Brothers Six was a nationwide smash, as did Grand Funk Railroad, apparently, who were to discover otherwise when their version went Top Ten seven years later. Ditto Billy Harner and the Kit Kats. I’m still amazed that Call Me Lightning broke out in the Upper Midwest and nowhere else.

In 1969, your family relocated to the East Coast. Did you find the musical climate in the Delaware Valley to be much different from Northwest Ohio?

JW: I remember we moved during the middle of sixth grade. One of my teachers that year in Bensalem, PA., asked the class to write down their favorite group. Three Dog Night won, closely followed by Sly & The Family Stone. I was a little puzzled by that result, having written down The Rolling Stones.

MM: Hmm. It seems that the divide was already in place. I guess Bobby Sherman and The J5 hadn’t arrived yet. I, too, was firmly in the Stones camp in late ’69.

You are five years away from witnessing your first concert. Give us a sense of how your musical tastes expanded during the interim.

JW: The period of 1970 to 1973 didn’t spark any great new finds, I wasn’t looking that hard for any. I still listened to Top Forty radio, but that was getting hard to find good songs. People like James Taylor did nothing for me, and Jethro Tull’s “Thick as a Brick” seemed too weird. A good friend of mine got Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon,” but neither one of us could understand what all the fuss was about—not driving enough for my 15 year old ears. In late 1973/early ’74, the New York Dolls cleared the decks. Watching them on Don Kirshner’s TV show with their platform boots, wild hair and slashing songs made me realize I had ignored the great non-commercial bands that would never be on AM radio. I started listening to progressive FM station WMMR, and just kept checking out all the bands/artists that I hadn’t heard before. Any Rock magazine like Circus, Rolling Stone, Hit Parader was now consumed cover to cover.

MM: And so, the Dolls served as your catalyst to the possibilities of Rock. I would suggest that proximity to Manhattan, and later trips to London, were also springboards to wider musical appreciation. Many have taken that road and never looked back, yet you’ve always remained faithful to some of the less exploratory sub-genres. Explain.

JW: I’m not sure, but listening to all the great radio hits and almost-hits from the sixties made me appreciate a good three-minute song. Roger Miller’s “King of the Road” just seemed like a great tune when I first heard it. Once I got into the history of Rock music, it didn’t take long to have to run down all their influences from Blues, Country and R n’ B. The history of pop music and how it quickly evolved through the years just seemed like something important to check out. It was still reasonably new; in ’74, Elvis had only been around for about 20 years. Pop Rock music was being created by our extended peer group, for our enjoyment. The Rock community still existed in the mid-seventies, though corporate big money was already changing things.

MM: The decline of AM radio gave rise to the creation of specific airplay formats and a splintering of broadcast choices. Is that fragmentation responsible for the deplorable state of radio these days? Or does it no longer matter?

JW: For a long time, the record companies had no idea what would sell, they just released 45s and albums, hoping some of them would be big sellers. Then they signed a lot more bands that sounded like what was selling. The Underground/Punk scene in both the U.K./U.S. (1972-77) was a reaction to the corporate suits, and the kids finally could make “their” music. Radio today is simply about holding the most listeners as possible until the next commercial break comes. Someone like Sheryl Crow is very safe—she has homogenized the last 30 years of pop/rock music to the point that there is nothing left to taste.

MM: Apart from the U.S. Hardcore phenomenon (the ’80s version of a Folk revival, in my opinion) and some interesting rumblings from the world Underground, that decade appears today as a musical wasteland. Two questions: What happened to the promise of Punk, and is there anything of merit to come out of the 1980s that still resonates?

JW: The eighties didn’t have much to offer me that I could find at the time. I’m sure I still haven’t heard some great stuff released on obscure labels. My current favorite unknown/unheard (at least in the U.S.) band from the eighties is the U.K. group Half Man Half Biscuit. After about 1983, I dove into The Blues and didn’t come to the surface until 1987. I immediately went into a prolonged Jazz infatuation that ended around 1995 (thankfully I missed Grunge). The shambolic indie/punk band The Fall really blossomed in the eighties, and I still like their stuff.

MM: Which brings us to the last 15 years, and my final question: Do you see any hope in the future of Rock, or will it continue to splutter and meander before ultimately petering in the next decade or so?

JW: Mainstream corporate-promoted Rock is dying as we speak. What gives me hope is the young men and women who are currently pumping their enthusiasm into varying styles of music. As an example, there is a young band from Albuquerque called The Squash Blossom Boys that embodies that pure love of music. They take old blues and folk songs from the 1920s and ’30s and rave some of them up into an out of control freight train. When any group of people get together to pursue their shared love of music, great things are always possible.

Michael Mooney

Lisa Germano Redux/Jager Shots Live

2010-09-07T06:31:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Lisa Germano: Magic Neighbor, In The Maybe World, Lullaby For Liquid Pig

I was wrong. A few issues back, a particularly nasty review of Lisa Germano’s (somewhat) recent recordings appeared in this column. Actually, one recording: Lullaby For Liquid Pig, from 2003 (I’d never gotten around to listening to 2006’s In The Maybe World, and wasn’t even aware of last year’s Magic Neighbor.) I made a big deal about why I couldn’t relate to Lisa’s newer music, how her self-pity bored me, and that she seemed stuck in a self-created rut only she could wallow in. Exceedingly boorish accusations, I’m ashamed to admit. The fact of the matter is that I hadn’t truly listened to Lullaby For Liquid Pig. But now I have, and I was wrong.

Jim has a rule, which demands that one listen to a recording at least three times before consigning lesser works to eBay (or wherever those thousands of CDs go each year.) I’m impulsive. If something doesn’t grab me immediately, I’ve been known to hit the eject button and move on to something else. Lullaby For Liquid Pig is not an easy first listen. Maybe it’s the sequencing, but the three initial songs killed the album for me the first time around. And while it picks up considerably from there, I didn’t give the record a chance. That’s a shameful admission, particularly from someone who prides himself on his musical tastes, because LFLP is a pretty good disc. While not quite approaching the caliber of Lisa’s groundbreaking 4AD LPs, it does maintain an appealing unsteady quality throughout, and the tunes are definitely there, although she occasionally buries her hooks beneath provisional-sounding—and surely intentional—home-studio dissonance (especially on those first three tracks, which are, of course, my favorites now.) Another thing I was wrong about: Lisa’s still self-deprecating (a rare quality in the overweening world of Pop,) and she’s still, at times, terribly funny.

There’s nothing humorous about In The Maybe World. This album ranks right up there with Berlin, The Painted Word, and Germano’s own Geek The Girl as one of Rock’s classic works of introspective sadness. The theme is loss. These are the lyrics to Too Much Space:

In the morning without a sound
And the stirring of dreams around
Then you wake up
He wasn’t there again

On the way home you feel it there
Cause your heart needs to be somewhere
But you wake up
To too much space again
An illusion it’s just not true
We’ve always been me and you

But I wake up
And you’re not here again
You never know
You wait too long
You need a fire
It’s all gone wrong

He gave it up he hit the dust
And now your heart is made of rust

You dig a plant
And put it there
And hope and hope
And swear and swear
One of us.

Lisa Germano has the rare ability to render complex emotional states into deceptively astute and intelligible lyricism. The music on this brief record (34 minutes) is equally beautiful, at times heartbreakingly so. That it’s taken me four years to discover the album is regrettable. In The Maybe World is a small masterpiece.

So is Magic Neighbor. The fact that an artist can produce her best work nearly 20 years into a solo career that hasn’t exactly set the world on fire is (may I say?) remarkable. That the same artist only got started well into her fourth decade proves that Pop is not exclusively a young (or someone pretending to be a young) person’s game, and that creativity need not diminish with age. It’s inspiring that a musician as distinctive as Lisa Germano continues to remain true to her own musical intuition while expanding its possibilities. Magic Neighbor is a little more impressionistic than most Germano recordings (French Impressionistic to be exact). Not as tranquil-sounding as In The Maybe World, though every bit as melodic, there’s also a degree of luminousness in the subject matter here that is not usually found on a Lisa Germano album. That may bode well for those of you who are unwilling to hang tough with Lisa for fear of reaching for the stop button (or the razor blade), just like me several months ago. I won’t make that mistake again.

Lisa Germano Top Ten:
In The Maybe World (2006)
Geek The Girl (1995)
Magic Neighbor (2009)
Happiness (1994 version)
Inconsiderate Bitch EP (1994)
Slide (1998)
Happiness (1993 version)
Excerpts From A Love Circus (1996)
OP8: Slush (L.G. and Giant Sand- 1997)
On The Way Don From The Moon Palace (1991)
-Michael Mooney

Drunk on Profits: Jagermeister, Live Nation & Rush

The Canadian Rock band Rush recently played the Hard Rock Casino Pavilion in Albuquerque. This year’s main outdoor summer concert series in the Duke City is again being handled primarily by Live Nation, who earlier this year merged with Ticketmaster to create an entertainment powerhouse called Live Nation Entertainment. Live Nation signs bands to long term deals where they become the exclusive promoter for all of their live concerts. Madonna, U2 and Jay-Z are just a few of the big names that have been locked up with huge guarantees from the deep financial pockets of Live Nation. As the traditional market for CD sales keeps shrinking, bands are relying even more on concert revenue as their biggest source of income. Ticketmaster was the largest company that handled ticket sales for hundreds of main venues throughout the Unites States before joining up with Live Nation in 2010. We all know them for the service charges, facility and shipping charges that are added to the base price of the tickets we purchase either online or by phone. As I drove into the parking lot at the Pavilion, nothing was outwardly different since Live Nation and Ticketmaster joined forces. The same hassle getting into the venue off of Rio Bravo Boulevard occurred—you’d think one day they would realize 10,000 plus concert goers were coming and would have a better traffic pattern in place. Rush came out promptly at 7:45 p.m.—this was the opening North American concert on their 2010 Time Machine Tour. The band sounded good as they opened with “The Spirit of Radio” and played a couple of unrecorded new songs in the first set as well, but I kept getting distracted by the young women constantly selling Jagermeister shots.

A recent phenomenon in outdoor beverage concession sales is roving sales teams of ladies bringing “Jager Shots” to your seat. At first it seemed as normal as the beer and soda sellers, employees wading through the crowds to save you from having to wait in line. But the frequency of seeing them pass by with trays of test-tube size shots was surprising. There will be no moralizing from me on people who choose to get high or feelin’ good on beer, wine or pot at concerts. I personally enjoy a few beers as much as anyone, but the constant effort Pavilion employees were involved in to sell as much “Jager”as possible seems to me to have crossed the line. No one forces you to buy shots at a concert, but this easy access “service” just seems potentially dangerous for others. Let’s see, tickets ranging from $49.00 to $150.00, $25.00 T-Shirts, $8.50 beers, $13.00 hamburgers with chips and a soda is not enough profit from 10,000 people? Why don’t we all tip the Jager ladies $1.00, BUT DON’T BUY THE JAGER SHOTS. I contacted the Pavilion management office and they refused to answer any questions or comment on their concession/alcohol policies.

Rush has created a unique sound where hard rock and progressive rock have blended together. Some people are there for the radio hits like “Tom Sawyer” or “Freewill”; others like me enjoyed the longer instrumental pieces. They played the entirety of their 1981 “Moving Pictures” album in the second set, but they aren’t just a nostalgia band like ’70s stalwarts Crosby Steals the Cash or Chicago. Rush has been rewarded with one of the most loyal followings in Rock history by continuing to release new CDs and always introducing new songs to their performances. After 36 years of being onstage together, these three musicians show no signs of slowing down. As much as I liked what Rush was playing, I decided not to fight the crowds back to I-25 and left near the end of the concert. I’d also had my fill of Jagermeister, without ever buying a shot.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Doll By Doll: Gypsy Blood; Lew Lewis

2010-07-29T05:26:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Doll By Doll

“I see the bars of your prison when you cry.”

Released in the early morning of the Thatcher era, “Gypsy Blood” is a towering monument to the failure of Punk. Working loosely within the Classic Rock idiom, on this recording (their second LP, following the speed-fueled sonic claustrophobia of “Remember”—a relentless, dualistic masterpiece of horror and beauty) Doll By Doll blended elements of pub-rock, doo-wop, folk, country, psychedelia, gospel, early-’60s pop melodrama and the Velvet Underground, added their own unique guitar ferocity (albeit tempered here) and a late-’70s dynamic production sheen (think “Born To Run” or “Bat Out Of Hell.”) The result is a singular work of breathtaking magnificence, capped by the sweeping power of Jackie Leven’s vocals.

This record simply sounds like no other. From the 1-2 radio-friendly punch of “Teenage Lightning” and the title track, through the majestic “Stripshow,” “The Human Face” and “Highland Rain,” and finally the unsettled and unsettling “Endgame” and “When A Man Dies,” Doll By Doll achieve that rarest of aims: absolute timelessness. The album could have been recorded in 1969, or last week. That it evokes a Britain (and Europe) about to disappear forever is the only clue to its moment in time.

Roundly ignored upon release (the album was un-issued in the U.S.), the failure of “Gypsy Blood” signaled the coming musical backslide—Spandau Ballet were just around the corner—that the English record buying public willingly accepted. 30 years later, it still stands alone, reflective of a time when music took chances and changed lives.
Michael Mooney

“The Devil of Dreams is Black”

Why is this record so different and important that you should immediately pop round the local shop to order a copy? If I rave about how brilliant “Gypsy Blood” is, I risk becoming just another fanatic trumpeting his favorite group. But there is truly something special about Doll By Doll, a U.K. rock band from the late ’70s/early ’80s led by singer, guitarist and main writer Jackie Leven. Two guitars, bass and drums were the basic components, playing in a straightforward rock style that we’ve all heard before. They are musically tight as a group and play with passion. The magic for me, however, lies in two things that elevate this band from hundreds of others who suddenly appeared on the late ’70s scene.

Jackie Leven’s vocals are unique and will have you on the edge of your seat with the passage of each song, wondering where he will soar to next. I won’t compare him to Roy Orbison, or other celestial-voiced wonders, because, while he has taken on many influences (as Gypsies do), what comes out of his mouth is ALL Leven ALL the time. Jackie’s range is unbelievable and he has the gift of a classic saloon singer for putting across real depth and emotion.

The other aspect of this band that is so enjoyable to me is the subject matter. These are no run-of-the-mill tunes about whiskey, women or life on the road. Leven writes from an idiosyncratic perspective that makes his lyrics so much more interesting than anyone else’s. He will walk that lonely street and, by the time he reaches the next corner, you will feel that his world and yours are one. “Stripshow” is one of the most powerful songs I have ever heard in over 40 years of listening to music. On “The Human Face,” Jackie sings about knowing why Jesus wept (for the next 30 years he’ll continue to unravel that particular mystery in his solo career). You may at times find yourself close to weeping, too, at the beauty of this music.

Jackie’s like an insomniac bus driver, cruising the late-night streets. His passengers are the tired, the hurt and the truth seekers. He lets you know you’re not alone, and the common bonds we all share of joy and despair are illuminated by him in a way that reminds us of the beauty of everyday life. No matter how you’re feeling when you get on his bus, by the time you arrive at your stop, life has become a more interesting ride.

1979 brought us a lot of great new music, but, in my opinion, “Gypsy Blood” battles The Clash’s “London Calling” for best LP honors. I vote for “Gypsy Blood.” Get this CD if you like rock music that has power and intensity, yet travels down a different path. You will not be disappointed.
-Jim Webb

Lew Lewis & The Perfect Day

On Friday July 14, 1979, I was a 20-year-old American living in Holland Park, London, and working full time at a restaurant called BJ’s Roast Beef on Fulham Road near Chelsea. I was in the middle of a six-month visit to England; no definite plans, just soaking up as much of the British culture as possible (including the beer), before returning home. There was a lot of great music in London that summer; it was hard to choose who to see on any given night. From where I lived it was about a 15 minute walk to one of the main music clubs in West Kensington called The Nashville, a famous pub that from 1976 to 1980 had a lot of bands play there like The Sex Pistols and Elvis Costello. A co-worker had mentioned earlier that we had to see a guy called Lew Lewis that evening, so we met up around six o’clock and started walking toward the venue. We were still too young to have any real problems in the world; whatever we made each week at our jobs we happily spent all of by the next Friday. There were no bills or mortgage payments to fret about, no responsibilities. Looking back, I’m surprised we didn’t float away, we had so little worries to tie us down. As we got closer to the pub, a young man on a bicycle went past us; my friend Keith said, “Hey, that’s Lew Lewis.”

Canvey Island is about 30 miles east of London, a mostly working class area in Essex that is known to music fans as the home of Pub Rock legend Dr. Feelgood. Pub Rock was a back-to-basics approach to music that had its peak around 1973–75 in the U.K., and in part was a reaction to Glam Rock (David Bowie, T. Rex) and some of the pretentious excesses found in huge bands like Pink Floyd and Yes. Most of the Country-Rock influenced pub bands never had a lot of mass appeal, but groups like Eddie & The Hot Rods and Dr. Feelgood drew bigger crowds with their high energy live shows, helping clear the decks for the coming Punk/New Wave explosion. Nick Lowe, Ian Dury, Declan McManus (Elvis Costello), and Graham Parker are some of the names that served time in the pubs before finding a bigger audience in the late ’70s.

Lew Lewis was a harmonica playing maniac from Canvey Island who became an early member of Eddie & The Hot Rods in 1973. He ultimately tried to make it with his own band, scuffling around before signing with Stiff Records, which released his only album, titled “Save the Wail,” in 1979. I saw him twice that summer of ’79 and I can still picture him soaking his harmonicas in a pint glass and then flipping them wildly above his head as the band played ferociously behind him. He would spin around in mid song several times before sticking his hand out and pulling the harp out of the air to his mouth, quickly blowing some intense solos without missing a beat. He wasn’t a great singer and his record label had a hard time marketing a young, white Chicago Blues style harmonica player. This was the era when New Wave bands ruled with skinny ties and Power Pop’s jingle reverberated all around the world. Lew disappeared for a while and in 1987 made some minor headlines when he was sentenced to seven years in prison for holding up a post office with a fake gun. He’s had a number of illness and addiction issues throughout the last 15 years, but recently was still trying to get a new band together. He might’ve been just a bit player in the 1973–1985 U.K. music scene, but it’s people like Lew Lewis that add the unpredictable excitement that makes great rock music possible.

Music has so much to offer us as listeners. There is the pure enjoyment of organized sound and rhythms, as well as getting into the history of a given style of music and hearing the reflection of the era from which it came. We all have certain songs that, when we hear them, magically transport us back in time. They might take you back to your wedding, or a graduation day from school; they can be a powerful reminder of any period in your life. I’ve been happily married for 28 years and now have three beautiful daughters, but when I hear the music of Lew Lewis, it’s July of 1979 again. I’m single and 20 years old, walking down the Cromwell Road in West Kensington, London. I don’t have a care in the world.
-Jim Webb

From The Archives: Jackson Browne and the California Myth

2010-07-24T07:10:00.000-06:00

One of the first to try and make a career out of hanging around other people while doing nothing: Jackson Browne. It wasn’t until the late 60s that it became possible to seriously think you could get away with it (Southern California had copious amounts of weed and cocaine amongst the hippie/music fringe types). Who needed a job when it was sunny?

But then, who wants to listen to anyone’s constant personal diary, especially when it’s set to such uninspiring music? America’s youth lost 10 years of their lives listening to Browne’s and James Taylor’s navel-gazing drivel. He couldn’t even make his best song a hit; had to let those flannel-shirted idiots The Eagles smooth it out for national consumption.

I saw Browne live in 1976. Even then he was the dullest headline performer I’d ever seen (out of 800 concerts). Lawyers In Love- the title says it all- you knew that would be a real sad-ass album before even hearing a note of it. In 2008, I thought I would give him one last chance and bought Solo Acoustic, Volume 2. This CD is so God-awful sleepy, I almost lost consciousness while trying to listen to it. I want to give him a little slack because he has been on the right side of most political issues of our day, but I’m sorry, this is strictly a musical critique. If you want to listen to a good singer/songwriter, try Fred Neil, Townes Van Zandt, Nick Drake, Kevin Ayers, John Hyatt, or Stephen Merritt (for starters).

Joni was right- he’s a loser; stay away from him.
-Jim Webb

Two Ton Strap; Infatuation Therapy

2010-06-24T17:47:00.001-06:00

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney and Jim Webb

INTERVIEW WITH TWO TON STRAP

Group history, please.

We've been friends since the late ’90s. Kevyn, Danny and Max grew up in Dixon, and Kan, originally from Japan, spent his youth in the valley of San Cristobal. Later, after Kan lived on the couch ... for months ... the band was formed. "Restless nights," says Kan. Max and Kevyn used to play with Omar Rane and Rita O'Connell until they got fired and replaced by significantly better musicians. What up, Norm!

Obviously, some rootsy countrified influences are discernible in your music. Are you Mekons fans?

We don't know who they are ... now we feel like real tools. It's surprising that anything in our music is "discernible." (What does that mean?) Our major influences are hangin' out and friends. And we're boozers. Also, the band Handsome Molly was a major influence on our music and our drinking.

Favorite tipple?

PBR and a shot of Beam.

Banjo: open G tuning?

The banjo was custom-made for Kan by Brooks Masten (brooksbanjos.com). If anyone knows how to tune a 4-string banjo, fuck you.

You have some very nifty gig fliers. Who's responsible?

Our good friend, Taos resident Sarah Hart of Hart Print Shop (hartprintshop.com), designs and prints all of our flyers on recycled beer boxes. "She's an incredibly talented woman and we're blessed to have her in our lives," says Kevyn Gilbert. “With her help, we also make all our own shirts, underwear, beer koozies and other stuff.”

Can you offer some thoughts on the allure of Dixon, N.M.?

"Stay the hell out of our town, yuppies," says Koko. "Except for the studio tour, when we'd like your money."

I've been listening to your music on MySpace, but the player produces a hyper echoey wobble, like Lee Perry and Martin Rushent on Ether fighting for control of a Pogues session. I'm sure it's just my computer. You should hear it though.

Sounds like maybe it IS your computer. Call Gizmo Productions (575) 758-9522. We record all our own music. A lot of our online material is from live shows.

Does everyone write?

Everyone does a bit of writing—some as group songs, some written solo and brought to the group.

What's your schedule looking like this season?

Check our website: twotonstrap.com. We're too lazy to book our own shows. If someone else wants to do that, please call (575) 613-5914. Shadows and Dreams excluded. Fuck you. "Thanks for paying our bar tab, Brendan!"

Dreams? What was that about?
"Hey bartender. D’ya know how to make a redeye?"

4 ounces Beer
1 ounce Vodka
3 ounces Tomato Juice
1 whole Egg

Recording plans?

We record intermittently at Milton Records, and will be recording our full-length EP with Dave Costanza, hopefully.

Kannaroo—group effort or simply Kan?

Simply Kan. June 19. Sunshine Valley. Lots of bands. Free show. Free camping. Free love. kannaroo.com.

You are one of the more higher-profile Rock bands in the area. What is your take on the local music scene, and what can be done to improve it?

"Stale? Watered-down? Unoriginal?" says Max.
"I'm improving the scene!" says Kan. "Come to Kannaroo."
"They should change our name to the Brent BEAR Band," Koko pointed out, "because we're about to pull a grizzly on their asses."
“If you're tired of the same-old, same-old, come out to Kannaroo. Don't be a tool.”

Thank you, Two Ton Strap.

-Michael Mooney
manbys.head@yahoo.com

INFATUATION THERAPY

Most of you probably have at least one or two hobbies that you spend some of your free time pursuing. You might be into gardening, playing golf or any number of other healthy diversions that help us cope with the pressures of everyday life. I’m sure you think you are pretty well adjusted and these leisure activities wouldn’t be considered an obsession or compulsion. But has your hobby ever crossed the line into a full-blown infatuation?

An infatuation can frequently occur within a hobby, as an intense period of concentrated interest that can last anywhere from a few weeks to several months. One example might be of someone who enjoys reading, suddenly having to track down every known book from a particular author, and refuses to read anything else until they’ve finished them all. A person that finds decorating their home rewarding could also exhibit some obsessive behavior by needing to find an accessory for their kitchen or living room, and then proceed to visit every antique shop/flea market within a hundred miles of where they live in search of the “perfect” piece. Hikers can feel compelled to reach all mountain summits over a certain height in the state they live in. These obsessions can go in any direction and are really endless in their possibilities. I bring this up because we may not share any of the same interests, but we can all understand each other’s need for the enthusiastic pursuit of personal happiness.

The infatuations that infrequently take control of me are usually (but not always) music related. Countless times in the last 40 years of buying and listening to music, I have found myself needing to hear every album or CD a band has released. I’ll also have to track down all books written about that particular group or artist, and travel to see them perform live. Some early infatuations lasted for years (Grateful Dead), other times it lasts only three or four weeks (Rockabilly legend Charlie Feathers). Then I return to my normal listening habits. I have also done an extended immersion where, 24/7, I play nothing but a certain artist or group. A music immersion is a “burst” within an infatuation. An example of a musical immersion would be when you wake up and the first music you put on the stereo, ipod or computer is your current infatuation. You listen to their music while driving your car; it continues to be played at your place of work and is also heard when you get home in the evening. I’ve gone weeks with an immersion (Muslimgauze), until I feel that I have an initial understanding of their sound and history. Through the years, immersions have happened when an artist that I’m not familiar with (guitarist Derek Bailey) interests me, or there is someone I already like but realize I need to hear the rest of their extensive catalogue (The Fall). Currently, I am infatuated with the Blue Note jazz record label. Specifically, I’m immersed in everything they released from 1957 to 1967 by sax men Hank Mobley and Tina Brooks, pianist Sonny Clark and guitarist Grant Green. I’m not new to this period of jazz, but have realized that I had missed a lot of great music from that era by concentrating on established performers like Art Blakey or Dexter Gordon. This current immersion has been going on for about three weeks, and it could continue for quite a while—or it could end as quickly as it began.

With all this talk of infatuations, obsessions and immersions, you probably think I’ve got a lot of personal issues to deal with on my end. You may be right, but the next time you spend every waking moment of a weekend skiing, or spend all day shopping endlessly for the perfect pair of jeans or a hanging flower basket for your patio, you have also experienced an immersion. We can debate the merits and labeling of all these different activities, and I obviously would never advocate getting lost in drugs or other destructive actions. The only thing I know for sure is that it’s the people who don’t have any healthy interests that are the ones who puzzle me the most. So much of our lives have to follow a daily routine, we all need something that keeps things interesting, an activity to look forward to. If you find your current lifestyle getting stale, may I suggest you start immediately in the fanatical pursuit of something. Life is short, and there are so many things to get wrapped up in before it’s all over. I can’t wait until tomorrow; you never know when a new infatuation might begin.
Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

From The Archives: WORST GIGS EVER (part one)

2010-06-13T10:22:00.001-06:00

Michael Bolton/ Kenny G.
Universal Amphitheatre,
Los Angeles, 1990

Diane had heard something by Gorelick on the radio at work, and decided that she liked his smooth style. I was able to get tickets to this sold-out show via a brokerage ($50 each), and had no idea what I was in for-I thought they might be Jazz guys like maybe Al Jarreau or Chuck Mangione or something. This was the single-most horrific musical experience of my life. Kenneth Gorelick made like a brain-dead Pied Piper as he lurched from the stage all the way up the center aisle to the lobby (keep going!); Mikey Bolton’s take-no-prisoners vocal histrionics gave new meaning to the term ‘stupefying’. Afterward, we retired to Bob’s Frolic Room in order to erase all lingering memories- double Jameson for me- though whenever I see a guy with a shiny mane of curls (not very often in Taos) or a Bolton-style mullet (seems like every day!) I’m reminded of that night, and want to be sick all over again.

Here’s something I didn’t know:

Gorelick's 1999 single, “What A Wonderful World” stirred controversy among the jazz community regarding the overdubbing of Louis Armstrong's classic recording. A common criticism was that such a revered recording by a musician known especially for improvisation should not be altered. Pat Metheny responded to this recording by saying, "With this single move, Kenny G became one of the few people on earth I can say that I really can't use at all - as a man, for his incredible arrogance to even consider such a thing, and as a musician, for presuming to share the stage with the single most important figure in our music."

Santana/ Rusted Root
Greek Theatre,
Los Angeles, 1997

Two years before the massive Supernatural, we find Carlos here at his career’s ebb, preaching to the largely upscale Hispanic audience that their lowly vocational choices (itinerant farming, lawn care, dry cleaning) determine how the world sees them. Also, only meditation will heal the planet. Interminable jams follow. Saving grace: the explosive power of Cuban percussionist Horacio “El Negro” Hernandez.

And whose idea was it to allow the appalling Rusted Root a 75-minute opening set?
-Michael Mooney

Johnny Cash/Johnny Dowd / Lisa Germano

2010-05-21T05:35:00.002-06:00

The Secret Museum

By Jim Webb and Michael Mooney

February of 2010 saw the release of Johnny Cash’s last studio recordings from 2003, titled “American VI: Ain’t No Grave.” These were his final sessions produced by Rick Rubin in a project that originally started in 1995. A few weeks later in March came Texan Johnny Dowd’s latest CD called “Wake Up The Snakes.” Two musicians: one who left a musical legacy as a certified American legend, the other a little known singer, writer, guitarist who’s happy to add a few more fans with every new CD and club tour. Each man brings a personal intensity to his darkest songs that few others can match.

Johnny Cash was a deeply religious man his whole life. Even in the midst of his problems with drug addiction, he always looked at it as a test from God. Cash’s contradictions are apparent from early on as he embraced the wild rockabilly music of the ’50s while still singing gospel music every chance he had. He was known as “The Man in Black” who released hit albums and toured constantly. Throughout his career he sang thousands of songs; some of his best were about liars, robbers and killers. The main line from the title song on Cash’s last release goes “There ain’t no grave gonna hold my body down.” Near the end of his life the only songs that mattered spoke of faith, and the coming glory. He quotes scripture on “I Corinthians 15:15”—“Oh death, where is thy sting. Oh grave, where is thy victory.” His wife June passed away four months before him in 2003, and you can hear on these final recordings how ready he is to join her. There is a contemplative spirit that pervades these last recordings and the selection of buddy Kris Kristopherson’s “For The Good Times” was another beautiful choice. At the end of his life such lines as: “Don’t look so sad. I know it’s over. But life goes on, and this old world will keep on turning. Let’s just be glad we had some time to spend together” carry a gentle goodbye to his fans. “Ain’t No Grave” is a somber, melancholy album, but this poignant selection of final tunes ultimately becomes a touching farewell from one of America’s most popular performers.

Johnny Dowd is now 61 years old and was born in Ft.Worth, Texas, but raised in Oklahoma and Memphis, Tennessee. He didn’t get his first CD released until he was almost 50 years old, so you know his early songs had been fermenting for quite a while. His overall sound could be compared to the carnival barker Tom Waits colliding with a ’50s psychobilly singer named Nervous Norvus. His voice isn’t as soothing as Cash’s, and at times he treats it with a megaphone effect, along with the static of a fading radio station. “The Wrong Side of Memphis” was his first studio recording that finally got released in 1998, and following efforts like “Cemetery Shoes” and “Cruel World” are just as strong. These evocative lines are from a tune called “Final Encore”: “He died in a motel, surrounded by women’s shoes. Lipstick on a mirror had the words—I’m the king of the Jews. A Fender amplifier was still warm to the touch, in the corner a telecaster against a wall, like a cripple’s crutch.” 2010 finds Dowd releasing his ninth CD, entitled “Wake Up The Snakes,” and it’s a continuation of the mangled garage/blues sound that has been his trademark from the beginning. The organ is a little more prominent now, but Dowd’s still sitting on the front porch of the Bates Motel singing mysterious songs with black humor and intrigue. It’s a shame that Cash never recorded any songs by Johnny Dowd before passing away in 2003 from a diabetes related illness. They would have fit perfectly with his other Rick Rubin-produced American Recordings, and given Dowd a much needed boost as well.

Johnny Cash was a master singer of country, folk and gospel music whose sincerity and shared convictions with the common man appealed to a huge group of people. If Cash was a musical Billy Graham, bringing in large numbers of music lovers to his shows, then Dowd right now is just a small time itinerant tent preacher, scuffling to add a few more converts and barely having enough gas money to reach the next town. What Johnny Dowd does have is the storyteller’s gift, and a few more tales of his own still to tell. The circle remains unbroken.

Jim Webb

Lisa Germano
I used to be a big fan of Lisa Germano back in the ’90s. There was something indefinable about her haunting, catchy music that struck a chord with me, and I had great affinity for her remarkably confessional (and frequently very funny) lyrics. Mainly, though, it was her voice that first caught my attention. Soft, measured and unaffected, with a barely-discernible Midwest twang, hers was the slightly cracked sing-song Voice Of The Prozac Nation. If you asked me in 1995 which female musical artists Rock Division were my all-time favorites, I would have obviously answered, "Number one: Kleenex/Lilliput," but Lisa ran a close third or fourth, right after Poly Styrene's consumerism-obsessed X-Ray Spex and—I'm almost embarrassed to admit (after all, it being 1995)—Huggy Bear or Bikini Kill, both of whom I stubbornly believed were about to rid the world of the growling Eddie Vedders (despite ample indications to the contrary).

So what happened to Lisa? Well, for one thing, there's evidence of creeping decline in the Germano disco-chronology, and, for me at least, her tales of dejection, uncertainty and woe eventually began to lose their appeal. I can’t say that Lisa’s lyrics became farcical or myopic over time (her subject matter never changed), I just didn't relate to them personally anymore. It’s as if she got stuck in her own discomfort zone and invited everyone to join her there, then decided she didn't like the company. What once was self-deprecation became self-pity. Loyalist that I am, I responded by attempting to tune out the lyrics to her new songs and focus solely on the music instead. That didn’t work (and it never does): Lisa's trademark mix of creaking parlor recording and studio-created sound collage now appeared increasingly dull and indistinct. Look no further than 2003’s dreary Lullaby For Liquid Pig, in which, after a five-year recording hiatus, Germano returned with more of the ol’ mopey-dope (bizarrely, this particular dud was reissued in 2007 by infamous Rock Creep Michael Gira on his Young God imprint—just to piss me off further?). The humor is gone and she simply won't let you in; on this record the listener is left with nowhere to go but OUT. But I can take a hint. Here's hoping Lisa Germano will one day lose the funk and rediscover her creativity. Maybe she already has; In The Maybe World was released in 2006. I haven’t heard it.

This bit comes from Lisa's own blurb for Lullaby For Liquid Pig (on her website):
"ok i give up
too hard to trust people
stay alone and LOVE your addictions
always there
NOT A GOOD WAY TO LIVE
so..........?"

Michael Mooney

From The Archives: Guilty Pleasures

2010-05-10T05:35:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Musical snobbery has its unhealthy roots in popular culture. If enough people love (and buy) a particular song, then the elitist saying goes, “it must be crap.” There are exceptions to the rule because sometimes quality songs just can't be denied. Roger Miller's 1964 smash King of The Road comes to mind, as well as The Beach Boys' Good Vibrations, but those are just two examples from the Golden Era of Pop. Don't tell me about all the great singles from The Beatles, British Invasion or Motown, because the Sixties was the time before Big Business got a real stranglehold on the music. Popular Music went downhill fast in terms of quality starting in the 1970's, when calculated fluff took over the airwaves and your local radio DJ become a puppet to corporate profiteers. The 70s saw the rise of Barry Manilow's super-schmaltz formula, The Bee Gees hollow disco, and Olivia Newton-John's plastic world of joy. The 80s were just as bad with Hall & Oates, Billy Joel and the impossibly sappy Air Supply. If you add Mariah Carey to this list representing the 90's, you would have a great set of mega-selling "artists" who collectively haven't received a good review in forty years. The music executives of corporate America have been fleecing you and your loved ones out of hard earned money for a long time now. They have it down to a science including focus groups telling them what kind of music to sell, with demographic trends and promotional budgets targeting the weak and easily duped.

I have also been led astray by the greedy Music Moguls who live in high story condominium castles. The narcotic-like trap they set with music is a powerful one and sometimes you just can't get out of its grip. Phil Collins has sold over 150 million records in his solo career, and his brand of aural voodoo has proven to be an especially strong spell to break. The cover songs he has scored with include homogenized versions of Groovy Kind of Love and You Can't Hurry Love, both from the 60's. Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now) is a typical emotional plea that ruled the charts in 1984 for 16 weeks. And let's not forget Easy Lover (no Pulitzer here for lyrics), or the great Sussudio. Phil's music to me is like a large Sonic Oreo Blast with whipped cream. You know it's not good for you, but you still got to have it occasionally. Yes, a founding member of The Secret Museum - an organization that is committed to uncovering the underrated and overlooked lost classics of music- listens to Phil Collins. Don't tell anyone.
-Jim Webb

While I tend to agree with your thoughts regarding musical snobbery, I have never been guilty of reacting to a piece of music based on its potential to reach (or avoid) the Top Twenty. My criteria are determined by how I respond intellectually and/or emotionally to the song itself. I know that I am simply not going to like much of what appears in the pop charts, though there have been unaccountable deviations. For example, Vanessa Williams' Save The Best For Last was Number One for five weeks in 1992. I love that song, and know I shouldn't: it's a banal topic- boy realizes girl was the one for him all along, she compares it to meteorological/astronomical phenomena- and lyrically very Moon/June (in a good way, and the writers were aware of it) but containing a degree of intelligence- probably Wendy Waldman's- that places it a notch above your standard modern ballad (N.B.- one of the guys involved in this also had a hand in Crazy For You, one of two or three Madonna songs I can almost stomach). These lyrics mean nothing to me. The appeal must be, and is, the music (it's catchy) and vocal performance- just like Crazy for You, only more so here- and though I believe that just about anyone could have made this song a hit, Williams does a tremendous job of not going over the top with it, and at the same time projecting a sense of wonderment that other Pop Divas of the day- Celine, Mariah, Madonna, Amy Grant?- would be incapable of pulling off. My emotions recognize this as melodic and well-crafted early-90s radio fodder. Intellectually, my response to Save The Best For Last is that Vanessa Williams works restrained magic on an above-average obvious Hit and turns it into Art. But if this song had only reached number 84 in the Billboard singles chart that year, I would probably never had heard it.

One guilty pleasure I'll admit to is Sleeper, a musically and conceptually lazy (their lyrics were okay, though) U.K. rock group from the 1990s, one of many also-rans of the Britpop era. There's absolutely no reason I should REALLY like them any more than, say, Pulp or Elastica or The Boo Radleys or (even) Blur (whom I don't like much at all), or any of the dozens of others who waved the banner of 'Cool Britannia'. My guilt here derives not from any sense of embarrassment for admiring music such as this, but only because I can't figure out why I do. Maybe it's something about needing to have favorites in every conceivable category, like why are The Misunderstood my favorite 60s California Psychedelic band who didn't hail from L.A. or the Bay Area? Or why is Brigitte Bardot my favorite Ye-Ye girl, when she isn't a Ye-Ye girl at all? Or why The Big Boys but not The Dicks? Or Steve & Eydie but not Nino & April? The Vogues but not The Lettermen? Why is Turn Down Day my favorite summer song of 1966, and not Summer In The City? Or Summer Wind? Or Sunny Afternoon? Or Sunny? See You In September? You've got to pick something, and so, for 60s/New Wave-inspired, guitar-based, tuneful English Rock created between 1994 and 1997, I choose Sleeper.

Now, about Phil Collins: apart from breaking up with his second wife via fax (so what if he didn't; he's capable of it), your comments reminded me of this memorable monologue from American Psycho's Patrick Bateman:

Do you like Phil Collins? I've been a big Genesis fan ever since the release of their 1980 album, Duke. Before that, I really didn't understand any of their work. Too artsy, too intellectual. It was on Duke where Phil Collins' presence became more apparent. I think Invisible Touch was the group's undisputed masterpiece. It's an epic meditation on intangibility. At the same time, it deepens and enriches the meaning of the preceding three albums. Christy, take off your robe. Listen to the brilliant ensemble playing of Banks, Collins and Rutherford. You can practically hear every nuance of every instrument. Sabrina, remove your dress. In terms of lyrical craftsmanship, the sheer songwriting, this album hits a new peak of professionalism. Sabrina, why don't you, uh, dance a little. Take the lyrics to Land of Confusion. In this song, Phil Collins addresses the problems of abusive political authority. In Too Deep is the most moving pop song of the 1980s, about monogamy and commitment. The song is extremely uplifting. Their lyrics are as positive and affirmative as anything I've heard in Rock. Christy, get down on your knees so Sabrina can... Phil Collins' solo career seems to be more commercial and therefore more satisfying, in a narrower way. Especially songs like In the Air Tonight and Against All Odds. Sabrina, don't just stare at it... But I also think Phil Collins works best within the confines of the group, than as a solo artist, and I stress the word artist. This is Sussudio, a great, great song, a personal favorite.

So you can see, Jim, where this might be cause for concern.
-Michael Mooney

P.S. From the same film (nothing to do with Phil, but I still think it's funny):

Patrick Bateman: Do you like Huey Lewis and the News?

Paul Allen: They're OK.

Patrick Bateman: Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercial and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far much more bitter, cynical sense of humor.

Paul Allen: Hey Halberstram.

Patrick Bateman: Yes, Allen?

Paul Allen: Why are their copies of the style section all over the place, d-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?

Patrick Bateman: No, Allen.

Paul Allen: Is that a raincoat?

Patrick Bateman: Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, Fore, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself.
[raises ax above head]

Patrick Bateman: Hey Paul!

Phil Collins 80s LP discography:
Face Value (1981)
Hello, I Must Be Going (1982)
No Jacket Required (1985)
But Seriously (1989)

Sleeper LPs:
Smart (1995)
The It Girl (1996)
Pleased To Meet You (1997)

Vanessa Williams:
The Comfort Zone (LP 1991)
Save The Best For Last (single 1992)

From The Archives: Concept Albums

2010-04-29T05:41:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum

November 02, 2008

"This world is big and wild and half insane
Take me where real animals are playing
Just a dirty old shack
Where the hound dogs bark
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home

While I lay my head upon my pillow
Little girl, come play beneath my window
Though she’s far from home
She is free from harm
And she need not fear
She is by my side
And the sky is wide
So let the sun shine bright
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home

Girl, its a hard, hard world, if it gets you down
Dreams often fade and die in a bad, bad world
I’ll take you where real animals are playing
And people are real people not just playing
It’s a quiet, quiet life
By a dirty old shack
That we called our home
I want to be back there
Among the cats and dogs
And the pigs and the goats
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm
My animal home
On animal farm"

THAT IS FUCKING SONG WRITING
-Jim Webb

Hey! That's where I live! It's also a song from one of my Top Ten Concept Albums of all-time (yours, too, I'll bet.)
-Michael Mooney

The Top Ten Concept LP’S of All Time

1.) Jesus Christ Superstar / 1970
Music – Andre Lloyd Webber
Lyrics – Tim Rice
A Rock Opera that has Jesus of Nazareth, Judas Iscariot, and King Herod, among others, brought into the 20th Century medium of Rock and Roll. Controversial in it’s approach that Jesus was “just a man.” Tim Rice’s lyrics bind this narrative together with such clarity and force that you’d think he’d located a Lost Scroll as a guide to chronicle the true story of Jesus’ last days. What’s the Buzz and Yvonne Elliman singing I Don’t Know How to Love Him are just two of the many standout tracks on what was originally a double LP release. Great songs, coherent story line, well recorded: a masterpiece in concept and execution (no pun intended.)
“ One thing to say for him, Jesus is cool.” – Caiaphus the High Priest

2.) The Who – Quadrophenia / 1973
A turbulent look at a week in the life of Jimmy the Mod, a U.K. teen circa 1964. While we Yankees may not totally understand the Mod vs. Rocker battles in mid 60’s England, the themes of despair, loneliness, and redemption are universal to any time period. Love Reign O’er Me is arguably Townshend and Daltrey’s finest effort ever. The Punk Meets the Godfather, The Real Me, and 5:15 are songs that show The Who flexing their muscles in the streets of Brighton, ready to take on all Rockers. Is Quadrophenia better than Tommy? I think it’s coming of age adolescent story is one which I can relate to more. The great thing about Quadrophenia is that the music will move you, even if the story line doesn’t. Don’t miss the film version, either.

3.) The Who – Tommy / 1969
Rightly praised as an instant classic, Pete Townshend reaches high and (mostly) delivers on the amazing journey of a deaf, dumb and blind boy “Tommy” Walker. The Beatles had taken small steps in turning Pop Music into certifiable Art with Rubber Soul and Revolver. Sgt. Pepper was a big advance, using recording technology to enhance the listening experience, and The LP suddenly was no longer a couple of hit singles with a lot of filler. Tommy was a giant leap forward in taking a complex story line and weaving a musical tale around it. Pete seemed to expound on and slightly alter what the story really meant through the years, but the spiritual essence never changed. This is Townshend’s baby as much as Mrs. Walker’s.

4.) The Pretty Things – S.F. Sorrow / 1969
Recording started in the summer of 1967 and was finished the following year. The delay in actually releasing the LP until 1969 was a huge factor in it’s getting lost in Tommy’s supernova explosion. The story of Sebastian Sorrow was (supposedly) heard by Pete Townshend. He in turn was influenced by the idea of using a conceptual theme for an entire album. Phil May and band deserve high praise for some excellent tunes like S.F. Sorrow is Born, She Says Good Morning and Balloon Burning. The overall song quality is high, but there are no classics to propel it into the stratosphere. FM radio didn’t grab onto it and make S.F. Sorrow a listening staple, unlike its more famous cousin Tommy. Maybe this should be number one for it’s importance as the first Rock story album. Sebastian will forgive me for putting this in the number four slot.

5.) The Kinks – Arthur / 1969
Ray Davies is a great songwriter who almost seemed destined to meld his keen eye for the workingman with his love of traditional Britain into themed stories. A tale about his sister and brother-in-law’s move to Australia, the poignant songs, celebrating the lost British Empire and its people’s simple lives, are extraordinary. Victoria and Shangri-la are two of Davies’ finest tunes in a career that has literally scores of them to choose from. Hard rocking tracks (like Brainwashed) compete with emotional remembrances of personal sacrifice (Some Mother’s Son) to create a varied and rich narrative that will have you brewing a pot of tea while wishing you had a Union Jack wrapped around your shoulders, as you listen to this beautiful creation.

6.) The Kinks – Village Green Preservation Society / 1968
A collection of songs whose central theme is loosely based on the life and people of a small English village, meanwhile showing how quickly the world has changed (mostly for the worse): this is possibly the best collection of songs of any concept LP in my top ten. Tracks like Animal Farm, Picture Book, Big Sky and The Village Green Preservation Society are all gems in their own right. The only thing holding back this effort from a higher position is that there is not a hard connecting story to these songs- some were written independently of each other, and later grouped together due to their neighborly connection to Old England and the everyday people who made it great- a small quibble about a wonderful basket of tunes that never grows old.

7.) Jethro Tull – Thick As A Brick / 1972
One song (43 minutes long) that was written as a send up of all concept albums: Ian Anderson was exasperated by all the critics who bashed Tull’s previous release Aqualung for being too highbrow and conceptual for a rock band. He vowed to give them a pompous themed concept LP that they would really dislike. Somehow, Thick As A Brick found its way to number 1 in the U.S. charts. The most prog-rock sounding of all Tull albums up to that time, the centerpiece of the story is a poem written by a fictional 13 year-old. The biting and sarcastic lyrics and humor of Ian Anderson became a top selling response to the charges of “Jethro Dull.”

8.) David Bowie – Outside / 1995
Based on Bowie’s short story The Nathan Adler Diaries, this is a futuristic, Bladerunner-meets-Nine Inch Nails concept that is startling in it’s originality. Nathan Adler has a Government job to decide what is Art and what’s trash. Throw in a good murder mystery, coupled with a surreal Dali- Enoesque production, and you wind up with an unqualified success. No one on this list took a bigger chance than Bowie with this release. If the Tin Machine project turned off the Ziggy Stardust/Thin White Duke crowd, Outside absolutely buried Bowie’s past. The musical risk-taking alone should have pushed this much higher in the rankings, but some of Townshend’s and Davies’ songs are just too strong to overcome. Jagger, Page & Plant, and all the other groups stuck dishing out the same meal should take note. But they won’t. This is my favorite concept release of the last 30 years; the future is for those who can hear it.

9.) Lou Reed – Berlin / 1973
Lester Bangs called this the most depressing record ever made. I don’t disagree, but personally think it’s more dark and heavy than depressing. Lou Reed takes a detour from his walk on the wild side and writes about a relationship that breaks down due to drugs and suicidal tendencies. This record has great sound and arrangements from Alice Cooper producer Bob Ezrin. Berlin is a concept LP that I can’t play very often, but when I do, the beauty of it is unrivaled by anything that Lou Reed has ever written. I wouldn’t argue if someone called this their favorite record ever, but its black hole gravity makes me hesitate to put it higher on my list. I’m afraid that somehow while listening to it, I’ll enter into the same downward spiral with no escape possible.

10.) The Kinks – Soap Opera / 1975
Is there a Kinks bias on this list? Yes, because Raymond Douglas Davies is the greatest rock conceptual songwriter of all time. I could easily have put in the number ten position Muswell Hillbillies, Lola Vs Powerman And The Money-go-round, Preservation Act 1 and 2, or Schoolboys In Disgrace. I chose Soap Opera because of its simple tale that resonates so well with today’s celebrity-fixated culture. The story revolves around Norman, a common man who wants to be rock star in order to escape his mundane world. Ray Davies has always been in tune with everyday feelings and emotions. Is there a more real story than the idea that we all want to be famous? Soap Opera accurately foreshadows the beginning of the modern celebrity cult that we find so fascinating today. I envision a slightly revised Broadway show with Norman now playing Guitar Hero or Rock Band 2 on his play station as he rules the universe. With Ray Davies as the writer, everybody’s a star.

Honorable Mention:

You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown
Gong- Radio Gnome Trilogy
Pink Floyd- The Wall
Frank Zappa- Joe’s Garage
Spock’s Beard- Snow
Genesis- The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
-Jim Webb

Some might argue that a few of my titles don't meet the minimum requirements of 'concept album.' I conclude that a concept can be dictated by the overall mood of the recording, particularly one that is not reflected elsewhere in the artist's body of work. Peculiarly, a good many of these records have an autumnal flavor, including the "rock opera" selections. Here's my list:

1. Forever Changes- Love (1967)
"We're all normal and we want our freedom"- Arthur Lee's eulogy to Los Angeles. Also his self-requiem: "When I did that album, I thought I was going to die at that particular time, so those were my last words."

2. Muswell Hillbillies- The Kinks (1971)
Life in the welfare state, North London (and Stereo Review's Album Of The Year- 1972): "Gotta stand and face it- life is so complicated."

3. The Who Sell Out (1967)
LP as pirate radio broadcast, but they drop the concept at the beginning of side two. Perfect!

4. Geek The Girl- Lisa Germano (1994)
Need to clear the room? Put this on. You'll probably leave, too. Lisa Germano: "Hi. This is the story of geek the girl, a girl who is confused about how to be sexual and cool in the world but finds out she isn't cool and gets constantly taken advantage of sexually, gets kind of sick and enjoys giving up but at the end still tries to believe in something beautiful and dreams of still loving a man in hopes that he can save her from her shit life.........ha ha ha, what a geek!"

5. Pet Sounds- The Beach Boys (1966)
Mike Love didn't 'get’ it': what better endorsement do you need??

6. Histoire de Melody Nelson- Serge Gainsbourg (1971)
Melody's riding a bicycle when Serge hits her with his Rolls. Age-gap romance ensues, only to end tragically when the cargo plane goes down over New Guinea. Don't ask.

7. Pink Flag- Wire (1977)
Media-informed Art Punk tour de force: 21 songs in 35 minutes 37 seconds that work best when experienced as a whole.

8. It Falleth Like The Gentle Rain From Heaven-The Mekons Story (1982)
A collection of outtakes, live tracks, b-sides, etc.: what ties it all together is David Spencer's (who?) drunken - on cider, to be precise- narration. Mine's another!

9. Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake- The Small Faces (1968)
"Are you all seated comfortable, too square on your botty? Then I'll begin..." Here the 'concept' starts on side two (see Sell Out), being the story of Happiness Stan's 'trip' to find the missing half of the moon. Hmm.

10. Odessey and Oracle- The Zombies (1968)
An Invasion-era beat group on the brink of disbandment give it one more try, and create a pop marvel. The theme, whether intended or not, alternates between desire/longing and resignation/acceptance. Seems to summarize The Zombies own career, sadly.

Also:

David Bowie- Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars
The Flaming Lips- The Soft Bulletin, Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots
Horslips- The Man Who Built America
The Jam- Setting Sons
The Kinks- VGPS*, Face To Face, Arthur
The Pretty Things- SF Sorrow
Lou Reed- Berlin
Spirit- Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus
The Who- Quadrophenia, Tommy

(*Village Green Preservation Society is truly my number one, but since it made your list, I left it off.)
-Michael Mooney

George Harrison; Art of Flying

2010-04-20T05:43:00.001-06:00

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb and Michael Mooney

George Harrison
I was listening to “The Radha Krishna Temple” CD recently and started to dig deeper into George Harrison’s involvement with the Hare Krishna movement in the late ’60s and ’70s. George produced and played harmonium on “The Hare Krishna Mantra” single, which was released in August of 1969 on Apple Records, and it quickly went to No. 12 in the U.K and No. 1 in Germany & Czechoslovakia. “Govinda” was the second single released in March of 1970 and it peaked at no. 23 on the British singles charts. George has said that watching the Hare Krishna devotees sing on the UK TV show Top of The Pops 40 years ago was one of the greatest thrills of his life. As big as The Beatles were, George Harrison’s role in helping The Pepsi Generation discover the sacred vibrations and religion of ancient India might be a bigger accomplishment than anything he ever recorded with The Fab Four. To all of the smart asses who want to know why, if Krishna (God) is so powerful, his devotees didn’t always have a no. 1 hit in every country—that’s just another mystery you can ask The Big Man (or gasp, Woman) about when you finally leave the material world. Chant and be happy.

George’s Spiritual Timeline:
- Born February 25, 1943 in Liverpool England
- First Holy Communion, age 11, 1954 (Anglican father/Roman Catholic mother)
- Spring 1965 takes LSD for first time
- June 1965 meets Indian musician Ravi Shankar in London
- October 1965 plays sitar for first time on Beatles record (“Norwegian Wood”)
- September 1966 visits India/Kashmir with Ravi
- July 1967 sings Hare Krishna Mantra for first time on holiday in Greece
- August 1967 meets Maharishi Mahesh Yogi
- February 1968, travels with Beatles to Rishikesh, India, for retreat with Maharishi
- December 1968 meets Hare Krishna devotees for first time
- August 1969 Apple releases “Hare Krishna Mantra” single, produced by George
- September 1969 meets Swami Prahbhupada, head of Hare Krishna movement
- March 1970 records “Govinda” single with devotees of The Radha Krishna Temple
- October 1970 finishes recording for his “All Things Must Pass” LP
- January 1971 “My Sweet Lord” single no. 1 around world with Hare Krishna refrain
- May 1971 “The Radha Krishna Temple” LP released, produced by George
- August 1971 organizes/performs at The Concert for Bangladesh in N.Y.C.
- March 1973 purchases Tudor Manor on 70 acres outside London for Krishna Temple
- February 1974 visits Krishna’s birthplace in Vrindavan, India
- November 1977 Swami Prahbhupada dies, Hare Krishna Movement struggles
- December 1980 John Lennon killed, George retreats to his Friar Park estate
- April 1996 travels to Vrindavan, India
- August 1997 undergoes surgery for throat cancer
- December 1999, attacked/stabbed repeatedly at his home outside London by intruder
- September 2000 makes trip to India
- March 2001 cancer spreads to lungs
- Spring 2001 visits India for last time to bathe in Ganges River
- November 29, 2001 dies at a friend’s home in Beverly Hills, California
- George’s body is cremated and his ashes are rumored to be scattered in the sacred Ganges and Yamuna rivers of India

References:
“I, Me, Mine” by George Harrison
“Here Comes The Sun” by Joshua M. Greene
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Art Of Flying Interview: David Costanza, Anne Speroni, and Peter Halter

(For Anne and David): Your press kit states that you were both participants in the 1980s Los Angeles Free Rock/improv scene through your membership in The Whitefronts (I presume this was during the Downtown/loft heyday, e.g. Blue Daisies, Party Boys, Savage Republic, etc., so correct me if I'm wrong.) Tell me about those times, the San Francisco connection and what led you here. Also, a word or two about The Lords of Howling.

Anne: ’80s-’90s- When we started out in the ’80s it was kind of the heyday of college rock and we were pretty tuned into that stuff, though I don't remember being crazy into any one thing. The Minutemen were a big inspiration, and older stuff like Velvet Underground, but we were also exploring stuff like Art Ensemble of Chicago, Sun Ra, Cecil Taylor. We moved away from song and form for a while and connected with some free improv players from the Boulder/Denver area. That was when we started playing with Lords of Howling, a move back into song and deeper into language, and met Peter, our drummer, who we have been playing with since then.

David: I think the L.A. part is a bit over-stated—we once stopped at the MUSIC MACHINE in Santa Monica or West Hollywood & saw five bands play—"blood on the saddle” was one & a band I forget the name of that had Hilel Slovak & Flea & would be later called “red-hot-chile-peppers” & of course the MINUTEMEN which would be the reason we were there—BUT, basically—the band lived in Santa Barbara which isn't as cool—we played parties in people's little apartments & we tried to play 'second-wave' ska like the selector & english beat—these parties deepened our love for improvisation—as we just kept the few songs we knew going & going & going until the keg ran out—later we would hear the MINUTEMEN & meat puppets & husker DU & mixed that into the ska bit & the improv bit—the whitefronts ended up in San Francisco—which was very cool musically & had 4 guitarists & 2 bass players & really started making some NOISE & having fun—& weren't really appreciated all that much—we hooked up with Camper van beethoven & played shows with them & then turned down an offer for a record on their pitch-a-tent/rough-trade label & high-tailed it for the land of enchantment—I toured with camper once as a trumpet player in 1986 or thereabouts & played on their first album for VIRGIN “our beloved revolutionary sweetheart” & made a little $$$dough which I really thought was cool. the guy from savage republic—Bruce Licher—had a label & a letter-press & put out a bunch of beautiful albums—camper's first being one of them—that letter-press stuff was a big influence—-'let's move out to new mexico & get a letter press & record our own albums & release them'—lots to learn—ThOUGH the LIGHT seem SMALL is AoF's 6th CD—we did get to do an album—GALALA—that was on a label in SF & was all beautiful & letter-pressed by our friend Shane De Leon in Portland, OR.

The Lords of Howling started around 1990 after the demise of the whitefronts—we had a crazy great time & recorded 12 cassettes at the barn & one CD—toured the NorthWest maybe five or six times & really learned—again—how to play—we made some beautiful music & I got to be around an amazing & scary-prolific songwriter—which influences me to this day.

Your songs seem particularly well suited to this region. Is that by design? To what extent, if any, does the physical environment of Northern New Mexico, specifically your neck of the woods, influence the music you create?

Anne: PLACE, well, I'm sure it plays heavily into our writing and sound. All that vastness and beauty, and even the isolation, in terms of not really being part of something scene-wise certainly feels inspiring. The intention or design was not necessarily an artistic one, but rather a lifestyle choice. Choosing to live in a place where the music we created was rarely heard by anyone, was obviously not very wise in a career sense, but brilliant in the sense that we have been able to continue to go deeper into the realms that really interest us, and in turn, the music has kept us well fed spiritually and artistically for all these years and hopefully many more. I just look at it as the soundtrack to our lives.
David: I like to mention places/people/things around me in a song—when I can—I don't know how this town affects the music—other than being so far from a 'current' music scene—it allows us to breathe & make music & let it sound like whatever the song wants to sound like—we've been making music in the BARN for over 20 years—all kinds of music—the 'marching band' kind of stuff & the free-improv stuff & the folky song singing kind of stuff—the People central to Art Of Flying & the friends around them—they make as much music as they can—always working towards some sort of beauty & playfulness—never mentioning the words 'genre' & 'style.'

CD Baby recommends your music to fans of Bob Dylan, Nick Drake and Tom Waits. However, your latest release, thOUGH the Light seem SMALL (am I getting the cases correct here?), reveals other, less-obvious influences. I'll go out on a limb and suggest Syd Barrett, early Milhaud, Peter Perrett, Dr. Strangely Strange, Van Dyke Parks and The Plugz. How wrong am I?

David: I don't know any of those bands except Syd Barrett that I listened to maybe twice—I wasn't that into him—I might listen to it again if an LP was lying around the studio—I listed a bunch of influences above—& they were really LIVE stuff influences—watching D. Boon (minutemen) sing & jump up & down—just watching people play—in real time—like—shit—how do they play & sing at the same time—on record I listened to DESIRE by Bobby D a thousand times—& slow train coming—& Peter Tosh & Richard & Linda Thompson & rolling stones—Art Ensemble of Chicago & Cecil Taylor—monk, mingus & the Clash- tons of Glenn Gould bach piano solo stuff- & now I'm listening to the bach cello stuff & a little beethoven violin/piano sonatas—I listened to ziggy stardust (bowie) a bunch before making the last CD hoping that would leak in a bit—

Anne: I don't know about influences really. I love Dylan. I like Nick Drake. I like Tom Waits. Dylan is always on the top of my list. The other stuff I’m not that familiar with, Syd Barrett a little.

What’s your opinion of the local music scene?

David: My favorite parts of the 'music seen' around here are: the people I get to play music with; the seco pearl; KUNM free-form & my recording studio up in Questa: the BARN.

Anne: I love Two Ton Strap

(For Peter Halter): Sir, explain yourself.

Peter: At age 13 I watched Count Basie turn a high school auditorium into a hip joint. The drummer Sonny Payne became my idol, with his driving laid back beat. Since elementary school I played the drums and my brother played the trumpet. We'd listen to albums along with my father, a lover of jazz. Rock and roll (from my older sisters) and jazz were my first musical influences, which led to free jazz, Ornette Coleman, Albert Ayler and Art Ensemble of Chicago. Listening to free jazz led to Fred Frith, John Zorn and avant-garde music, which expanded to more obscure groups. Then working with community radio, KGNU in Boulder opened me to all musical genres. But, the most fulfilling influence is playing music, the language of music and camaraderie. Currently, I play with Art of Flying and The Marching Band. In the past I've played with Frio (Front Range Improv Orchestra), Oriental Surfer Head and The Lords of Howling.

You are in the unique position of owning your own analog studio. Setting aside my envy for a moment, doesn't that particular method of recording require a degree of preparedness and/or patience beyond what's normally expected of a 21st century Rock group?

Anne: Having our own studio (Dave's studio) has always been our saving grace. We've never had to work with the pressure of the clock ticking away. Though there have been numerous other technical challenges which continue to try our patience, we all have a good sense of humor about it. The Barn (the studio) has been as much a part of our process as anything else, and for me, it doesn't ever get any better than playing there. I enjoy going out and playing for other people to a certain extent, but really, it's all there, all the feedback I need is in the energy of that room that has accumulated over the years.

David: pATIENCe is (sometimes) ALL there is ... well ... there IS more ... but how to see IT without patience?
-when I returned to the BARN in 2006 the first thing I put in the (out of) control room was a cast-iron BuddhA I got at a flea-market. "what do you have to teach me, mr. Buddha?" I asked. "PATIENCE." he replied—"GREAT!" I said, "I'll be here 'til 4:0-clock!"—then I bought the old QUAD EIGHT conSOUL...
It took me two years of wiring & crying to get a sound to come out of the new (old) thing; another year before we finished the first record: thOUGH the LIGHT seem SMALL ... patience—yes—I am beginning to understand ... ALL during that time I was writing the songs—my impatience being slowly peeled off of me like an old skin ... no more use for it ... impatience ...
Chris the Beautiful said: "no one can stop us from making records ... not even by not listening to them."
I guess I'm not interested in what is expected from a 21st century rock group—how about a 19th century rock group? Herman Melville on guitar. Walt Whitman on turn-tables. Emily Dickinson on bass. Abe Lincoln on drums.

thOUGH the Light seem SMALL is truly an exceptional record. Why are your local appearances so infrequent?

Anne: Where would we play??????????

David: right now—other than the Seco Pearl—there isn't any place in town that's a very good fit for us—we love to play LIVE—& we play quite a bit at the BARN—our musical 'bat-cave' so-to-speak—going out 'into the world' needs to be something special—

Choose one: Melville or Hawthorne?

Anne: Hawthorne

David: Melville … and even if it isn't a photo-finish- I would have trouble saying sayanara to all Hawthorne forever ... (I've only read the Scarlett Letter—& it was so great—I couldn't put it down—unlike theWHALE which I've put down maybe 25 times—maybe only 10 ... BUT, it seems like 100!) like BOWie—Hawthorne reached th'MILLION-which I have great respect for ... the title: ThOUGH the LIGHT seem SMALL- is either hawthorne or Melville—I took a bunch of notes a few winters back & I no longer remember which book it came from—the chorus from 'the LOVE song for LARRY YES' is definitely Moby Dick—

You've got some European shows set for late spring. What comes after?

David: we're booking an Italian tour right now—15 shows & a festival—we're rehearsing a bunch for it—we have a show in Albuquerque at a place called the KOSMOS April 30th then May 1st at SHADOWs w/ Manby's Head & then May 15th at Seco Pearl—those 3 shows should get us warmed up for Italy—I want to head back to the NorthWest in the fall—in between I want to continue on this new record we started—we have a bunch of stuff on tape—some old methods of making sounds & layering it & seeing where it goes & some folk songs just sung on to the tape wondering if something/anything is needed to be added to it—we have SUANFEST #11 this summer—lots of music going on.

Anne: I am dying to get back in the studio. There is never any shortage of material, and after the last session of recording we did, which was a bit of a departure, i'm really anxious to get into a different space and experiment a bit more, leave space for some more unknown elements to emerge.

Art Of Flying releases can be obtained at their performances, and website: www.discobolus.net
Also, here: http://artofflying.bandcamp.com/
thOUGH the LIGHT seem SMALL is available locally at Taosound.
Art of Flying calendar:
April 30 @ The Kosmos, 1715 5th Street NW, Albuquerque
May 1 @ Shadows Lounge & Grille 330A Paseo del Pueblo Sur, Taos
May 15 @ Seco Pearl, 590 Hondo-Seco Road, Arroyo Seco
-Michael Mooney

Adventures of Flannery : A Portrait of Cathal Coughlan by Bandit Films

2010-04-15T06:00:00.004-06:00

http://vimeo.com/9730708

From the archives: Rock Guitar Blowout

2010-04-11T06:01:00.001-06:00

Today’s assignment: The epitome of kick-ass rock. Uptempo guitar riff blowouts, heavy and smokin': the MOTHER list of all foot stompin' rock tunes that we were raised on.

Unfortunately, heavy and smokin’ ain’t always uptempo. In fact, because it’s so heavy, it’s frequently very slow, and unable to stomp it’s feet at all. Here’s a random sampling:

Love- Seven and Seven is (Da Capo LP- 1967, single- 1966)
Proto-something or other and the baddest dude on the Sunset Strip.
Oop-bip-bip, oop-bip-bip, YEAH!

MC5- Looking At You (single- 1968)
Frantic testimony from Brother Tyner over a furious fuzzy squall recorded on a Radio Shack condenser mic at the far end of the airplane hangar.

Beatles- I Want You (She’s So Heavy) (Abbey Road LP- 1969)
Shit. Judging by this monster track, if The Beatles had stuck around, every proggy girl’s blouse would have their clocks cleaned REAL quick. So long, ELP!

Randy Holden- Guitar Song (Population II- 1969 LP)Like it says: just Randy, a drummer, sixteen 200-watt Sunn amplifiers, and Dickie Peterson nowhere in sight. Far-out.

Free- All Right Now (Fire and Water LP- 1970, single- 1970)
Black Sabbath- Paranoid (Paranoid LP- 1970)
1970: being a good year for the chance indelible guitar figure (see below).

Fleetwood Mac- The Green Manalishi (single- 1970)
Peter Green didn’t want the money or fame, and gave us this instead (see The Clash: Jail Guitar Doors). Thanks, Pete!

Sir Lord Baltimore- Hell Hound (Kingdom Come LP- 1970)
Slippery, choppy- how can that be? And it feels like this: “Woo-muhn is uh hal-hown-duh, you know I got the fee-vuh”!

Chicago- 25 or 6 to 4 (Chicago LP- 1970)
The fastest gun in the (Mid-) West (sorry, Ted) versus Chicago’s horn section, and wastes them cold (careful with that pistol, Terry)

The Stooges- T.V. Eye (Funhouse LP- 1970)
Ron Asheton finds a chord sequence he can almost master, repeats till he needs to use the bathroom halfway through, but returns in time to remember where he left off. A Rock masterpiece is born. I’m kidding.

Groundhogs- Cherry Red (Split LP- 1971)
Spartan power-rock. One tap of the cowbell (rock percussion’s most effective weapon) and TS McPhee’s greatest distillation of Heavy Blues is off and running with dynamics galore. Feverish.

Focus- Hocus Pocus (Moving Waves LP- 1971, single- 1973)
Alternating between wickedly fluid guitar turns by Jan Akkerman and Thijs van Leer’s keys, flute, and truly bizarre gnomic vocalizing, plus an ace rhythm section, this bears no resemblance to anything else from these Dutch Prog masters. The single edit belatedly hit the US Top Ten in ’73. So someone bought it. Now fess up.

Deep Purple- Highway Star (Made In Japan LP- 1972)
I chose this over the studio version (Machine Head) simply because it’s more muscular and loosey-goosey. Ian Gillan sounds like he knows he’s the luckiest man in the world. See Amboy Dukes (below).

Alice Cooper- School’s Out (School’s Out LP- 1972, single- 1972)
An anthem to those of us leaving life-phase one (8th grade/Junior High), while assuming things would improve for phase two (it didn’t). Also, Hard Rock was becoming more rare on AM radio that summer. Need a reminder? Here’s the Billboard Top Ten from August 5, 1972:
1. Alone Again (Naturally)- See?
2. Brandy (You’re A Fine Girl)- I do like this one, though. A LOT.
3. If Loving You Is Wrong…
4. Daddy, Don’t You Walk So Fast- I said SEE?
5. Too Late To Turn Back Now
6. Where Is The Love
7. School’s Out
8. How Do You Do- Man, this one didn’t waste ANY time on its trip to History’s dustbin.
9. Long Cool Woman- Fake CCR (doesn’t count).
10. Layla- And neither does this.

From Wikipedia: Cooper has said he was inspired to write the song when answering the question, "What's the greatest three minutes of your life?", Cooper said: "There's two times during the year. One is Christmas morning, when you're just getting ready to open the presents. The greed factor is right there. The next one is the last three minutes of the last day of school when you're sitting there and it's like a slow fuse burning. I said, 'If we can catch that three minutes in a song, it's going to be so big.'"

Blue Oyster Cult- The Red and The Black (Tyranny and Mutation LP- 1973)

They get their man in the end: hyper riff-o-rama, tight as a bull’s arse, but it ain’t no sheep (it’s Buck)

Amboy Dukes- Pony Express (Call Of The Wild LP- 1973)
Most anything from Nugent is going to have a killer riff. This album is full of them (and THIS one happens to be borrowed from Highway Star)

The Troggs- Strange Movies (single- 1973)
Reg Presley encounters porn and (shock!) approves, while minimalist guitar master Chris Britton riffs on Joe Meek’s staircase, and Ronnie Bond thumps between pulls on the jug. A Rock masterpiece is born. No kidding.

ZZ Top- Tush (Fandango LP- 1975)
This one reached the Top Twenty in the sweltering summer of 1975, but in Philly I’ll bet it went way higher than that. Smart and ballsy, just the right length (2:14), and loud enough to drown out Jive Talkin’ playing on that dude’s transistor over there.

Television- Friction (Marquee Moon LP- 1977)
Tense and slashing raga-punk rave-up stretched to the breaking point.

Buzzcocks- Fiction Romance (Another Music In A Different Kitchen LP- 1978)
Why do people find the Buzzcocks wimpy? This driving, angular dual-lead workout starts Motorik, then careens all over the M1 before missing the J42 interchange.

Black Flag- Rise Above (Damaged LP- 1981)
I wasn’t thinking of including anything more recent than the 1970s here, but I just counted 19 songs on the list, needed 20, and this one came immediately to mind. A furious, funny anthem from an adult record made especially for kids, or School’s Out for Gen X tykes.
-Michael Mooney

Mike-
After mulling it over I pretty much knew where I was headed, but used a couple of Google searches after the fact to see if I forgot something important. The searches were ultimately weak and pathetic (that's why we are doing this damn guide). The only song found that made me think twice was Ram Jam - Black Betty. I concluded that if I didn't think of Black Betty originally, it must not be in my bonecrushing best of pile. Maybe this should've been split into separate lists for the 60's/70's/80's. The 70's obviously dominated my list; some might say it shows my bias from early listening habits. I simply think that the guitar was king in the 70's and the producers made sure it was up front in the mix.

1.) The Kinks - You Really Got Me - Dave Davies bludgeons the world. Bonus points that it's from 1964,and such a brutal riff that was copied and slightly varied into so many other classics that it's rightful influence can't be denied.

2.) MC5- Kick Out The Jams - I feel like I'm at the 1968 Chicago riots.

3.) Mountain - Mississippi Queen - The Great Fatsby's finest hour.

4.) Steppenwolf - Born To Be Wild - The most perfect match of music to lyrics in the history of the planet.

5.) Led Zeppelin - Communication Breakdown - Page stole Whole Lotta Love from Willie Dixon; at least here I don't know who he nicked it from (I still love the thieving bastard).

6.) ZZ Top - Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers - I'm dreaming of an ice cold Lone Star

7.) Deep Purple - Burn - Spinal Tap idiots will pick Smoke On The Water or Highway Star (nota bene: I picked Highway Star!- mm). Ian Gillan was at his best as Jesus. A room full of apes could've come up with Smoke On The Water (some say did). Burn does sound like a witch is being burned at the stake, and has the added bonus of Ian Paice's finest drum track ever.

8.) Johnny Winter - Still Alive And Well - The albino is back with a vengeance.

9.) Robin Trower - Day of the Eagle - A 70's guitar rock classic. Robin never topped Bridge of Sighs.

10.) The Stooges - I Wanna Be Your Dog - This is so primitive I almost left it off, but the Darwinian connection between animals and certain rock musicians was too great to pass up.

11.) The Clash - Complete Control - A true buzz saw riff.

12.) Black Sabbath - Paranoid - A lot to choose from with these guys.

13.) Blue Oyster Cult - Hot Rails to Hell - Buck Dharma has to be on the list somewhere.

14.) Focus - Hocus Pocus - A ferocious riff, it dropped down because of the yodeling.

15.) Guns & Roses - Welcome To The Jungle - I hate to put this on because Axl is such an ass, but this is more about Slash.

16.) Sex Pistols- Anarchy in U.K. And to think no one at first believed they were playing their own instruments.

17.) Cactus - The Swim - Blistering.

18.) Ted Nugent - Great White Buffalo - Michigan is well represented in the top 20

19.) Thin Lizzy - Are You Ready - A live staple of the band.

20.) N.Y. Dolls - Puss N' Boots - Johnny Thunders fat riff rounds out the list.

Honorable Mention:

Aeroshite- Train Kept A Rollin', Black Flag- Six Pack, Blue Cheer - Summertime Blues, Foghat- Honey Hush, Guess Who- American Woman, Rory Gallagher- Shin Kicker, Montrose- Space Station No. 5, Nazareth- Razamanazz, Romantics- What I Like About You, Stiff Little Fingers- Suspect Device, Undertones- You’ve Got My Number .
-Jim Webb

From The Archives: The Clash

2010-04-04T17:33:00.001-06:00

From Notting Hill to the Five Points Riot

The Clash: The Clash

I don't know why this record (UK edition) did not immediately resonate with me when I first heard it in Jim's room that Year Zero summer- too dole-queue English in outlook? Too harsh and trebly? Not enough hooks? Was it Joe Strummer's one-dimensional croak? Or a message I just wasn't ready to hear? It’s difficult to say. As a more-typical-than-I'd-hoped-to-be 19 year-old barely coping in the Teenage Wasteland of suburban Philadelphia, I certainly had enough distractions to keep my increasingly short attention span occupied. In any event, after several spins of Jim's copy (apparently it worked for him), I decided to give a pass on The Clash. But when CBS released a re-sequenced domestic version two years later (replacing four original songs with seven non-lp single tracks), I bought it (in tandem with Give 'Em Enough Rope), and suddenly everything clicked. THIS was MY music.

By the summer of 1979, I'd spent a few miserable post-high school years living the very things the Clash sang about- being bored, working a series of go-nowhere jobs, loving rock 'n' roll, feeling alienated, getting stoned, lacking social status, and (most-profoundly) jail guitar doors- just like, except for that last one, several million other dumb American kids (so why were they all listening to Toto, Benatar and Breakfast In America and not THIS?). The contrast to Give 'Em Enough Rope (released six months prior) was extreme, and not just because of Sandy Pearlman's big and slick production (someday we'll need to take a closer look at that one; it definitely isn’t the Sophomore Slump). A comparison of the two puts the former into perspective, but requires it's own juxtaposition with the original UK release.

Stated simply, I didn't realize what I was missing. While the US version is the meatier prospect, song for song, and displays to fuller effect the humanity, humor and reach of the band (adding the excellent- and free- bonus single, it sets the stage for London Calling), The UK edition is the one for me. There's an immediacy here that is unparalleled in the annals of Rock, a low-fi fury of tightly wound working-class frustration, sulphate-driven riffing (Mick Jones- guitar HERO), and the rabid bark of THE quintessential acquired taste in Rock vocals. The Clash is an attestation to the disaffected, a permission slip to act up (which I took literally for the next twenty years) and ask questions (ditto- plus ten). And the hooks were there all along. When I listen to this record now, I can see the boy who became the man, and hear the voice of Strummer reminding that boy that he is not alone.
-Michael Mooney

I bought the White Riot 45 at Plastic Fantastic in Bryn Mawr, Pa. It sounded like an ambulance racing by at 90 miles an hour, sirens wailing. The power and fury were extraordinary. The Ramones had led the way, and The Damned's New Rose was one hot track, but The Clash were serious from start to finish, and were on the Front Line. Listening to the first Clash LP was like a radio transmission from Mars that suddenly came blasting through my stereo speakers. Certain words and phrases jumped out of the distortion... “I'm So Bored With The USA”, “Career Opportunities, the ones that never knock”, “We come from Garageland”, “Hate and War- the only things we got today”, “London’s Burning with boredom now”, “Monday’s coming like a jail on wheels”…

It felt like a nuclear blast when you consider the weak crap Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles and Frampton were pushing. This wasn't just a music group; it was the complete package. Clothes, style, music, political beliefs all rolled up inside that ambulance heading past your house at breakneck speed with the windows rolled down, flames and massive sound pouring out. The raw power and style of Punk was an earthquake that forced major changes in our lives. Mike and I left for London Town on October 31, 1977. Nothing could stop us from being part of that scene.

December 13, 1977, Rainbow Theater, Finsbury Park, North London: The Clash, Sham 69, The Valves. The electric jolt of Complete Control short-circuited every brain cell. I had found the actual center of the Universe. “The Only Band That Mattered”- true for a while. No wonder the sheer force of Punk Rock buried all the 70's dinosaur bands like ELP and Yes.

Rest in peace, Joe. Mission accomplished.
-Jim Webb

The Clash: The Clash (Epic UK, 1977; Epic US, 1979)

John Zorn; The Dovells

2010-03-20T07:39:00.001-06:00

The Secret Museum:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

John Zorn & His
Radical Jewish Music
It is hard to talk about John Zorn’s music since it defies all accepted borders and has encompassed almost every stylistic trend of the last 50 years. He is a musician (saxophonist), record label owner (Tzadik), artistic director (The Stone performing space in N.Y.C.), besides being one of America’s most prolific composers, appearing on over 400 recordings.

Zorn became better known starting in 1985 for his release titled “The Big Gundown,” where he adapted the music of filmmaker Ennio Morricone into his anything-goes style of avant/jazz that helped solidify his stature as one of New York City’s most respected “downtown” artists. The word Downtown here is not just where this collective group of musicians lived, but is a term that became the catch phrase for all things experimental. He also has a large discography of film soundtrack recordings, recorded prolifically in the early ’90s with his noise/metal/punk/jazz outfits called Naked City and Painkiller.

Up until 1994, I would not have called myself a big Zorn fan. Naked City/Painkiller were so extreme at times that even though you could occasionally marvel at its sheer power and complexity, I never seemed to find the right time in the day when its punishing moments could be listened to for more than a brief period. Zorn released Kristallnacht in 1992 and it revitalized his interest in exploring and contributing to his Jewish roots. He founded his record label Tzadik (righteous man) in 1995 and decided to write one hundred songs for his latest band called Masada. They incorporated elements of Klezmer, Eastern European folk music and classical string parts to create a new kind of Sephardic chamber jazz sound. The Masada String Trio and The Bar Kohkba Sextet have also recorded these songs and in 2004, Zorn wrote three hundred new compositions for a series called “The Book of Angels.” “The Book of Angels” is now up to 13 released volumes of music, with Uri Caine, Erik Friedlander and Marc Ribot being just some of the musicians that have recorded these new compositions. This extended period of quality music encompassing everything from the Masada quartets through the 13 volumes “The of Book of Angels” is easily Zorn’s most consistently enjoyable work for me. Volume 13 was released in January 2010 and is titled “Mycale.” It continues Zorn’s unpredictable ways with 33 minutes of music performed a capella by four female vocalists. I still find that some releases from Zorn outside of the Masada/Angels series are too ambitious for my tastes in music. He released a three CD metal/free jazz play in 2006 (“Moonchild/Astronome/Heliogabalus”) that had spontaneous sounds coming from vocalist Mike Patton instead of words. John was awarded a MacArthur Foundation grant of $500,000 in 2006 and his muse continues to take him far away from following any one established path as a writer and performer.

His music is consistently more melodic now than in the past, and his strength as an original writer remains unchanged. With his Masada/Book of Angels work, Zorn has taken strands of classical, jazz and traditional music and interwoven them with his modern influences to create something truly unique. Now it doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, I find myself listening to these various string trios, Klezmer and jazz infused releases. The radical part of John Zorn is not politically based in pro or anti-Zionist messages, but in his ability to synthesize the musical roots of the Jewish Diaspora into a modern songbook that can be reinterpreted by other musicians in the years to come.

“I’m not interested in politics, but in people, music, and knowing about human feelings.” – John Zorn.

Recommended listening:
Bar Kohkba—“The Circle Maker”
Masada String Trio—“50th Birthday Celebration”
Cracow Klezmer Band—“Balan; The Book of Angels vol. 5”

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

The Dovells: You Can’t Sit Down
It’s commonly accepted that the First Dark Age of Rock resulted from the following factors: Little Richard found Jesus, Elvis got drafted, The Killer married his 13-year-old cousin, Buddy crashed, Chuck violated the Mann Act, Eddie Cochran crashed. When we look at the Billboard Number One singles from 1960-61, it appears that the rot has set in: Teen Angel, Theme From A Summer Place, Wonderland By Night, a little Lawrence Welk. But see who else is here: Everly Brothers, The Drifters, Ray Charles, Maurice Williams, The Shirelles, Del Shannon, Ernie K-Doe, plus Orbison, Gary U.S. Bonds, Bobby Lewis, Dion, The Marvelettes. Not too shabby, all considered. 1962 is almost as good: Joey Dee, Gene Chandler, Bruce Channel, Little Eva, Ray Charles again, The Four Seasons, Crystals, Tornados. OK, so Bobby Vinton, Connie Francis, and Neil Sedaka are also in there, but there’ve been worse horrors inflicted by the record-buying public. 1963: Steve Lawrence (who I like), The Rooftop Singers, Bobby Vinton (again), and The Singing Nun on the one hand—The Four Seasons (right on), Ruby and The Romantics, The Essex, Chiffons, Jimmy Soul, Lesley Gore, The Tymes, Stevie Wonder, Jan & Dean, The Fireballs with Jimmy Gilmer, and The Angels on the other.

Now, keeping in mind that Year Zero 1964 gave us Number Ones from Vinton (twice! – that’s enough now), Dean Martin, and Lorne Greene (!), the hard facts emerge (and remember, we’ve only been looking at songs that hit the top of the charts; the following rockers enjoyed single success during the same time period- Barrett Strong, Charlie Rich, Miracles, Clarence “Frog Man” Henry, Rosie & The Originals, Freddie Cannon, Sam Cooke, Orlons, Isley Brothers, Booker T and The MG’s, Clyde McPhatter, and many more. Also, this was a time when independent labels and regional sounds reigned supreme- there was always something interesting cooking, and competing with the majors, in the Great Melting Pot): a) there’s always been crap in the Billboard charts, b) Rock Music was alive and well during the early 1960s, and c) we didn’t need the Beatles to save us after all.

The Dovells from West Philadelphia reached Number Two in the fall of 1961 with “Bristol Stomp”: whomping kick drum and snare, ride cymbal, tambourine, one guitar, three doo-wopping Overbrook High grads in back, and the tremendously tremulous white-soul lead vocal of 19 year-old Leonard Borisoff. It’s simple, sloppy, careening and pounding—in other words, Rock and Roll. A few minor hits followed over the next two years, mostly cash-in attempts at exploiting the next teen dance sensation (Jitterbug, The New Continental, Hully Gully, Froog, The Monkey), though outside of Philadelphia, none came close to reaching the heights of “Bristol Stomp.” With one exception.

If any further evidence is required that Rock and Roll was not only still alive in early summer 1963 but kicking arse royally, The Dovells deliver the goods with resolute and stunning conviction. “You Can’t Sit Down” leaps from the speakers with quick drum-roll, organ wash, handclaps and a frantic Borisoff declaiming what you gotta do:

Hey pretty baby,
Don’t you hear the drummer thumpin’?
You gotta shake it like a crazy,
’Cause the band is sayin’ something.
Everybody is a-jumpin’,
You gotta slop, bop, flip-flop,
Hip-hop, all around.

Wild organ, fast and hard drums, out of control tenor sax—this was the sound of East Coast Young America. Jerry Gross, Arnie Silver and Mike Freda join in:

You can’t sit down, you can’t sit down
You gotta move, move, move, around and ’round.
You gotta fly, fly, fly, way off the ground.
They’re puttin’ down, a crazy sound.
No, no, you can’t sit down,
You gotta make it, break it,
Shake it all around.
You gotta slop, bop, flip-flop,
Hip-hop, never stop.

Equally crazed “Betty In Bermudas/Dance The Froog” would follow later that summer, then “Stop Monkeyin’ Around/No No No,” but by December, Borisoff was gone (he’ll return in ’65 with the Northern Soul classic “1-2-3”) and the hits dried up. That same month, on the other side of the country, Portland’s Kingsmen would provide one last brilliant gasp of pre-invasion U.S. chart action before everything changed forever.

-Michael Mooney
Loftholdingswood.blogspot.com

Rock Action
Last month’s interviewees !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! will be playing at Seco Pearl on Saturday, March 27. This could be their last performance for a while. All-new material is promised. Manby’s Head open. Both groups will have their latest releases available for purchase. Admission: $5.00- $15.00.

Seco Pearl: 590 Hondo-Seco Road, Arroyo Seco, 7 p.m. (approximately, call first to confirm) 575-776-1225.

The following week, Caffé Tazza presents electricLuLuland. The artist formerly known as Les Lokey will be presenting ROCKSHOW on Saturday, April 3, in preparation for her upcoming “provocaTOUR.” Admission: $3.00- $10.00.

Caffé Tazza: 122 Kit Carson Road, Taos, 6-9 p.m., 575-758-8706.

From The Archives (Part Two)- Doll By Doll: Gypsy Blood

2010-03-16T05:21:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Doll By Doll: Gypsy Blood
(Automatic Records LP, 1979; Rhino Records CD, 2007)

"I see the bars of your prison when you cry"

Released in the early morning of the Thatcher era, Gypsy Blood is a towering monument to the failure of Punk. Working loosely within the Classic Rock idiom, on this recording (their second LP, following the speed-fuelled sonic claustrophobia of Remember- a relentless, dualistic masterpiece of horror and beauty) Doll By Doll blended elements of pub-rock, doo-wop, folk, country, psychedelia, gospel, early-60s pop melodrama, and the Velvet Underground, added their own unique guitar ferocity (albeit tempered here) and a late-70s dynamic production sheen (think Born To Run or Bat Out Of Hell). The result is a singular work of breathtaking magnificence, capped by the sweeping power of Jackie Leven's vocals.

This record simply sounds like no other. From the 1-2 radio-friendly punch of Teenage Lightning and the title track, through the majestic Stripshow, The Human Face and Highland Rain, and finally the unsettled and unsettling Endgame and When A Man Dies, Doll By Doll achieve that rarest of aims: absolute timelessness. The album could have been recorded in 1969, or last week. That it evokes a Britain (and Europe) about to disappear forever is the only clue to Gypsy Blood's moment in time.

Roundly ignored upon release (the album was un-issued in the US), Gypsy Blood's failure signaled the coming musical backslide- Spandau Ballet were just around the corner- that the English record buying public willingly accepted. Nearly 30 years later, it still stands alone, reflective of a time when music took chances and changed lives.
-Michael Mooney

"The Devil of Dreams is Black"

Why is this record so different and important that you should immediately pop round the local shop to order a copy? If I rave about how brilliant Gypsy Blood is, I risk becoming just another fanatic trumpeting his favorite group. But there is truly something special about Doll By Doll, a UK rock band from the late 70s/early 80s led by singer, guitarist and main writer Jackie Leven. Two guitars, bass and drums were the basic components, playing in a straightforward rock style that we’ve all heard before. They are musically tight as a group and play with passion. The magic for me, however, lies in two things which elevate this band from hundreds of others who suddenly appeared on the late 70s scene.

Jackie Leven’s vocals are unique, and will have you on the edge of your seat with the passage of each song, wondering where he will soar to next. I won’t compare him to Roy Orbison, or other celestial-voiced wonders, because, while he has taken on many influences (as Gypsies do), what comes out of his mouth is ALL Leven ALL the time. Jackie’s range is unbelievable, and he has the gift of a classic saloon singer for putting across real depth and emotion.

The other aspect of this band that is so enjoyable to me is the subject matter. These are no run-of-the-mill tunes about whiskey, women, or life on the road. Leven writes from an idiosyncratic perspective that makes his lyrics so much more interesting than anyone else’s. He will walk that lonely street and, by the time he reaches the next corner, you will feel that his world and yours are one. Stripshow is one of the most powerful songs I have ever heard in over 40 years of listening to music. On The Human Face, Jackie sings about knowing why Jesus wept (for the next 30 years he’ll continue to unravel that particular mystery in his solo career). You may at times find yourself close to weeping, too, at the beauty of this music.

Jackie's like an insomniac bus driver, cruising the late-night streets. His passengers are the tired, the hurt and the truth seekers. He lets you know you're not alone, and the common bonds we all share of joy and despair are illuminated by him in a way that reminds us of the beauty of everyday life. No matter how you're feeling when you get on his bus, by the time you arrive at your stop, life has become a more interesting ride.

1979 brought us a lot of great new music, but, in my opinion, Gypsy Blood battles The Clash's London Calling for best LP honors. I vote for Gypsy Blood. Get this CD if you like rock music that has power and intensity yet travels down a different path. You will not be disappointed.
-Jim Webb

From The Archives (Part 1)

2010-03-14T06:37:00.001-06:00

The Secret Museum

Horse Fly
Taos, NM
October 23, 2008
A musical dialogue between Jim Webb and Michael Mooney.

Mike-
Ritchie Blackmore of Deep Purple: "Back in the late Sixties, there were few organists who could play like Jon. We shared the same taste in music. We loved Vanilla Fudge - they were our heroes. They used to play London's Speakeasy and all the hippies used to go there to hang out - Clapton, The Beatles - everybody went there to pose. According to legend, the talk of the town during that period was Jimi Hendrix, but that's not true. It was Vanilla Fudge. They played eight-minute songs, with dynamics. People said, "What the hell's going on here? How come it's not three minutes?" Timmy Bogert, their bassist, was amazing. The whole group was ahead of its time. So, initially we wanted to be a Vanilla Fudge clone."

-Guitar World Interview, Feb. 1991.
Quote hi-jacked from the The Highway Star: The Deep Purple Official Site
-Jim Webb

Jim-
...thus began the long, slow decline of British Rock. Actually, Blackmore's full of crap. According to VF's official website, they didn't get to the UK 'til Sept. '69, well past their prime, and never played the Speakeasy. The Beatles by then were pretty much finished. If Clapton was there to "pose", Ritchie's gotta be off by 2 years. Blind Faith had debuted earlier that year; Eric's perm, robes, and poses were long gone. I remember seeing Purple on the Steve Allen show; had to be Summer/Fall '68. Their sound at the time was closer to Fudge than after Gillan arrived in 1969. Ergo too much cider for Ritchie…
-Michael Mooney

Mike-
That Blackmore quote comes from the VF official website, too. I agree that Ritchie’s wine/hash/Mandrax intake has burnt out memory cells. I did think it was interesting that Blackmore, the self-proclaimed inventor of Heavy Rock, actually gave another band credit for influencing him.

I think we should seriously consider writing a newspaper column for CD buyers to help them on their way toward building a collection. There are a lot of 15 to 30 year olds that missed the whole golden age (1966-74) of Rock, and possibly the best of the 80s and 90s, who need a reference guide that will tell them exactly what releases to stay away from as well as which gems to track down. We could either do it in a Siskel & Ebert format where we both give our thoughts on a title, or you could take certain artists and I’ll grab others… Chapters on “sacred cows” where we trash the conventional wisdom of greatness (Van Morrison, etc.), but also make sure that they hear about Gypsy Blood, Mellow Candle, and hundreds of other “lost” classics. You and I have invested too much time in music the last 40+ years to keep this information inside our heads. I am so tired of reading Amazon reviews that turn out to be worthless, or bloggers who are way off the mark. We need to act. This is our calling, something we can leave behind for the future youth. Besides the esoteric and lost releases, we will lay down the truth on “major” acts. Deep Purple’s best is NOT Machine Head or Made in Japan. We can also list the 10 best tracks from any band (for the i-Tunes generation). I have told you before how much time I’ve wasted buying a record and not liking a group- only to find out 10, 20, sometimes 30 years later that I DO like them, I just bought the wrong title(s)…

We have it in our heads, and just need to put it down on paper.
-Jim Webb

Jim-
Let's also keep in mind that certain assumptions can be made regarding the older fans whom may already be familiar with (at least some of) this. We won’t intentionally insult anyone’s intelligence, while reminding the reader that this is primarily a beginner’s guide.
-Michael Mooney

Rod Stewart; !The!Bang!Gang!

2010-02-21T11:02:00.001-07:00

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Rod Stewart: I Used To Love Him, But It’s All Over Now
Some people think that the real Rod Stewart had disappeared by 1980; others say it was in the 1990s, and some long-time fans were even waiting until 2000 or so for his return before giving up. I have proof; it is now undeniable that Rod perished somewhere in Oprah Winfrey Land in 2009. His fatal illness began several years ago when his “Great American Songbook” box-set was one of the worst releases in 2005, and his latest studio release, “Soulbook,” has now confirmed his demise. How did one of the greatest vocalists of our generation turn into a two-bit karaoke stylist that has his heroes like Sam Cooke and Otis Redding turning in their graves?

Rod started off as a harmonica playing fan of The Rolling Stones in the early ’60s when they were churning out souped-up Rhythm and Blues before he became known as the fashionably dressing “Rod the Mod” around 1965. Rock music was the ticket out of working class London for a lot of British youths, and with his distinctively raspy vocals, Stewart had plenty of people clamoring to play with him. After stints with Long John Baldry and singing lead with The Jeff Beck Group, he wound up joining the ashes of The Small Faces in a new band called—The Faces. This period from 1969 to 1974 was when Stewart made his mark as an outstanding vocalist and song writer, crafting such classics as “Gasoline Alley,” “Maggie May,” “Mandolin Wind,” and “You Wear it Well.” When David Bowie was in full flower as an androgynous looking Alien in 1973, Rod happily put on his own shiny, satin Glam-rocker outfits and wore as much makeup as any female who paid to see him.

In 1978, Rod surprised no one by doing a late cannon ball into the Disco waters with “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy,” before joining the MTV Generation in 1984 with a synthpop Duran Duran style song/video entitled “Some Guys Have All the Luck.” He kept selling concert tickets through the years, but it wasn’t until 2002 that he dropped all pretense of having anything new to say and starting mining old songs from the ’30s and ’40s. Nothing wrong with those classic tunes at all, but Stewart adds nothing to their luster and comes across as desperate to keep selling more product. I just hope The Great American Songbook Vol. 5 isn’t coming our way anytime soon. His “Soulbook” release last year was unfortunately a continuation of a marketing plan gone artistically awry. His dull arrangements of Motown/Soul classics, sung with little passion, are all packaged for a certain middle aged demographic and, like his recent cover of “I Fooled Around and Fell in Love,” are just not needed. Rod Stewart used to be a great rock and roll singer. Each year he’s walked a little further away from his roots and he’s been doing his “standards” act for so long now his only goal seems to be improving his Tony Bennett impersonation. The long rumored reunion tour with The Faces might be the only elixir that could bring him back from the dead.

It’s pretty obvious that a long time ago, the real Rod Stewart decided to simply give the people what they wanted. He won’t be the last musician to head down that road, but for him to wind up permanently living there is disappointing. I’d feel the same way about any talented artist who was content to mass produce the same item over and over again for Wal-Mart. Early in his career, he brilliantly took some hand-me-downs from Sam Cooke and The Stones and made them into a custom suit of Rhythm and Booze that only he could fit into. The rented tuxedo that he wears today, anyone could use. Why do I think there is a real Rod Stewart, an artist, somewhere underneath his still perfectly quaffed head of hair? Let’s go back to 1970 when he wrote a song called “Gasoline Alley” that was about his future. With his good looks, voice and stage presence, Rod knew that stardom wasn’t far away, but he also knew there would be a price to pay for that fame.

But if anything should happen and my plans go wrong
Should I stray to the house on the hill
Let it be known that my intentions were good
I’d be singing in my alley if I could
And if I’m going away and it’s my turn to go
Should the blood run cold in my veins
Just one favor I’d be askin’ of you
Don’t bury me here it’s too cold
Take me back; carry me back to Gasoline Alley where I started from
Take me back, won’t you carry me home down to Gasoline Alley where I started from

I could be wrong, maybe Rod didn’t perish last year. There’s always the slim chance that his sales have now totally blinded him and he’s just wandering around lost in Middle America. If you ever do run into him, ask him whatever happened to that old custom suit that he made for himself. If he claims he lost it a long time ago and has no idea where it is, tell him not to worry, he was the only guy it ever fit. One day, if he decides to go looking for it, I’m sure he’ll find it somewhere in that alley back home.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

An interview with !The!Bang!Gang!!
The Secret Museum has been on a mission lately to verify rumors that a thriving Rock music scene actually does exist in the area. The results appear, rather surprisingly, altogether positive. Unfortunately, the number of venues for Rock music remains limited. One group who came to our attention is !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! Comprising Karen Vargas-vocals and guitar, Spanky Golub-bass and Doan Wilson-drums, !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! deliver a lo-fi roar straight outta Olympia circa 1991. They have recently released a 14-song CD, on which now-departed guitarist Cullen Morris joins them. The following interview took place via email.

Your new CD !!Whatever!!Meinkampff!! has just been released. Why the extra ‘f’?

There are two extra “fs” actually, for emffasis. We like to come up with new ways of treating old words, because historically, that’s just always been the trend. We like the letter “f” a lot.

Assuming I won’t be referring anyone to your MySpace page (http://www.myspace.com/wearethebanggang), would you please provide a short history of !!The!!Bang!!Gang!!?

Well, it IS a short history actually. We’ve been playing together for two years. The first year it was just Karen and Spanky; the second year we decided to start selling timeshares in the cult. Past members include Richie Green, Julia Vanderburg, Cullen Morris and Scottie McKenzie.

Influences?

Janet Jackson, Mozart, Sacred Rats, Mick Collins, Throbbing Gristle, alcohol, Danger, Danger’s mom, Phil Lynott, Val Margolis, breasts, Donna Summer, Sdrawkcab Tebahpla, Anna Nicole, Giardia.

Most of your songs seemed designed to avoid any radio airplay whatsoever. Is that a reasonable inference?

No, it’s the other way around: most radio airplay has been designed to avoid us.

Who is Val Margolis?

Spanky’s dead ex-girlfriend.

What’s your opinion of the local music scene and how would you like to see it improved?

At this point, Seco Pearl is the only serious game in town for alternatives. We’ve seen some GREAT music there. We love Nina and the Seco Pearl! Taosound by the Post Office in town has a nice selection. There’s also a space called the Mandala Project on the bypass, but we haven’t played there YET. We’ve only ever tried to get ONE gig at a mainstream venue in Taos and they turned us down—probably because we’re too risky—but we’ve never really bothered with trying to get gigs in places like that because why spend time on people and things that aren’t willing to spend time on you? In these sort of situations you usually have to make it happen yourself, you can’t wait around for anyone else.

I.D.K.H.T.H.M.B.H. is one of your catchier songs. Why isn’t it on the record?

It’s on the next album, “World War Five, Get Down Make Love,” which will be done in a few minutes.

It stands for I Don’t Know How To Homologate My Bromide Habit, right?

Are you calling us spastic homos?? THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

What happened to your guitarist?

Which one? We’ve burned through three so far.

Track 12 on your CD, Trinidad—what’s that all about?

Karen is a writer and last summer she went to an art symposium put on by the Colorado Arts Ranch called Sex and Sensibility, in Trinidad, Colorado, which, as you know, is the sex-change capital of the world. The song is sung in Spanish and it’s about her road trip there and meeting various artists and writers including Dr. Marcie Bowers, who performs the surgeries. It’s a corrido, of sorts.

At least one of you likes Roy Harper. Care to embellish?

If you have an album called “Stormcock,” how could we not be a big fan? Also, Roy Harper manifested Jimmy Page having sex with Aleister Crowley, so how can you NOT love that?

There’s a lot of drinking in your songs. Favorite whisky?

Doan and Karen are allergic to whiskey and Spanky is addicted to Jameson.

I’ve given your disc several listens. Interstate and Joan Doanut are my favorites. That’s not a question, obviously, but feel free to respond.

Joan Doanut is a super-loose, barely recognizable, rip-off of Dick Johnson by Pussy Galore. And it’s a super-loose, barely recognizable play on our drummer’s name. It’s a loving tribute to Doan who’s been holding up the other side of the bar at the Taos Inn for the last twelve years. “He’s the guy that everyone knows, he’s the guy that makes your nachos...” Interstate was written by Cullen Morris. Karen really liked the song and asked if we could cover it, so we did.

The hidden last cut on the CD—if it’s not called Soma Coma, it should be. So what’s it called?

It’s called Soma Coma.

!!Whatever!!Meinkampff!! is available at Taosound, Seco Pearl and through Tralalamedia.com.

-!!Michael!!Mooney!!

Manby’s Head / Thelonious Monk

2010-01-18T21:56:00.003-07:00

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

I’m Manby, Fly Me
Upon arrival in Taos some dozen years ago, I assumed that I would shortly encounter other forward/backward-thinking musicians with the shared intention of making a gigantic racket. This is an Art town after all, and where there’s Art there’s normally an accompanying healthy musical environment. Sadly—and in true Taos-as-contradiction fashion—this was not the case. There were (and still are), of course, a small number of bands who broke out of their respective garages long enough to play one (ware-) house party before disappearing again, but for the most part, what you see today featured in the bars and at the occasional summer music festival held true then: there is simply no evidence of authentic Rock and Roll to be found among the Jazzbos, jammy world-music poseurs and pseudo Country and Blues groups who cater to the local tourist crowd. Why is this, I wondered (I know a number of people hereabouts with exemplary tastes in music, folks who won’t hesitate to make the five-plus hour drive just to see Yo La Tengo play in Denver)? The obvious answer is that Rock doesn’t make money these days, it’s not propitious to the true Taos experience, it’s noisy and upsets the vacationers (Texans don’t like Rock? Since when?), it attracts an unpredictable audience—they don’t drink enough, they drink too much …

I’ve spoken to several local musicians and it’s true: the money’s in the safe bet, keep it mellow, encourage the two-step, sell those Bud Lights and margaritas.

“I find world music very disconcerting.”—Peter Greenberg

A Rock guitarist with an extensive pedigree—DMZ, The Customs, Lyres, Barrence Whitfield and The Savages—Peter Greenberg believes the Taos music scene lacks energy. When Peter moved here two years ago, he had no expectations of connecting with like-minded players. I first met him last June at Robin McLean’s Taosound record store. He was spinning obscure Garage Rock 45s for an audience of 12. Two weeks later we convened at Paul Reid’s house. A few songs were attempted: “Wild Thing,” maybe “Gloria,” maybe “Teenage Kicks,” I don’t remember. I hadn’t played guitar in years. It showed. An inauspicious start, to be sure, but there was something there.

“The kids are trying; they just lack the correct references.”—Paul Reid

Paul Reid is one of those bassists who make it look effortless. Trust me, it isn’t. He’s got that fluid approach that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. Paul’s been around these parts for 15 years or so. He’s spent the past several keeping various skillful (and in my opinion, unrelieved) rootsy sorts grounded (the gigs pay), but his heart belongs to Power Pop. Close enough.

“It’s been an education on many different levels.”—Eric Whitlock

After a disastrous encounter with a thrash drummer—“I can play Anarchy in triple time.” No. You can’t—and one session with the talented but geographically-challenged Tom Trusnovic, we found Eric Whitlock on craigslist (!), and soon liberated him from a whingy numbers-in-their-name-type punk (lower case p) abomination (you’re welcome, Eric.)

Lineup complete, we commenced writing and rehearsal sessions. The results were documented in December at Jon Gold’s studio above Valdez. (Highly recommended. Taos is very lucky to have this guy.) If there’s a place for Rock in this complicated little town, we’ll find out eventually.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Manby’s Head:

http://www.myspace.com/manby39shead

Michael Mooney

Thelonious Monk: The Labeling of a Jazz Icon
It has been 27 years since the death of pianist/composer Thelonious Monk in 1982. He was never a fan of jazz-rock in the late ’60s and early ’70s, so I don’t think he would have found anything of interest in the smooth jazz movement that he’s missed since his passing.
Labels are something, though, that Monk knew all about. He has been credited in the 1940s with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, among others, as being a founder of the Be-Bop style of jazz. The Swing era was slowly giving way to a new sound that could be found uptown in Harlem, New York. Minton’s Playhouse was one of the few clubs that played this new music and Thelonious was the house piano player there. Monk has acknowledged earlier stride piano players like James P. Johnson and Art Tatum as influences, and loved Duke Ellington, but his notes and chords didn’t always follow their established patterns. He was called a lot of things early in his career; few were complimentary. Fake, fraud and charlatan were used to describe his unorthodox style of playing. It bothered him, but he just kept on writing new tunes in his bedroom as his reply. After he secured a recording contract with Blue Note records in 1947, things got a little better—he was now referred to as eccentric, mysterious and even mad. Monk was labeled for several different reasons; the swing era fans and critics didn’t understand what he was up to and simply claimed he couldn’t play. His record company was trying to push him as a strange artist to create added interest, and mostly succeeded because he was eventually known as Mad Monk, or The High Priest of Be-Bop. All of this is expertly written about in Robin D.G. Kelley’s new book, “Thelonious Monk—The Life and Times of an American Original.”

Kelley has spent the last 14 years researching and writing this biography with the indispensable help of the extended Monk family. A historical work that encompasses not only the Jim Crow South of North Carolina where Monk was born in 1917, but one that illuminates his music throughout one of the most tumultuous periods of American life. I found it fascinating to read how Monk began a long residency at a club called The Five Spot in Manhattan’s Lower East Side in 1957, which soon became the jazz center of the world. The Five Spot was a rundown writers’ and painters’ hangout where you could find Kerouac or Ginsberg rubbing elbows with DeKooning and Jackson Pollock. The Beats and the Abstract Impressionists loved jazz; it was “in the moment,” just like their work. The improvising jazz musician spontaneously heading off into a new direction and breaking established forms was something they were already familiar with.

Monk’s recorded legacy is detailed in this comprehensive book, from his first sides to his final composition. The most consistent criticism by others in the 1960s about Monk was that he didn’t write many new songs. Even though he became better known (including a Time magazine cover in ’64) and played to bigger crowds later in his career, the real diamonds he had created and polished as a composer were mostly from the 40s and 50s. All the various medical problems that plagued Thelonious throughout his lifetime are also described, as well as the medications and treatment he received. The curious may just want to read about him dancing around in circles like a whirling dervish, but Monk had a complex personality that is dealt with here in a straightforward way. Robin Kelley should be applauded for such a fine effort, and Monk fanatics will be in heaven with this new treasure trove of inside information on his life. If you are unfamiliar with his work, this is certainly an excellent place to start.

My favorite anecdote in the book occurred in December of 1971, when Monk and his wife Nellie went to see The Duke Ellington Orchestra at The Rainbow Grill in Rockefeller Center, New York City. The band was in full “swing” as Monk walked toward a table to sit down; Duke eyed him from the stage and immediately cut the band off in mid song and approached the mike. “Ladies and gentlemen, the baddest left hand in the history of jazz has just entered the room, Mr. Thelonious Monk.” Monk stood there smiling at Duke as the crowd gave him a long ovation. Thelonious had started taking piano lessons at the age of 11 in 1928. After 43 years of people telling Monk how he sounded, the great Duke Ellington had just given him his ultimate compliment. On this night, Thelonious Monk didn’t mind being labeled at all.

Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Survey results
Last month, we conducted a survey asking your preference for a local appearance. The votes are in: Taos wants The Black Angels (but you’re not getting them.)

The Fall; A Few Loose Ends

2009-12-19T20:15:00.003-07:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM:

Ten CDs By The Fall You Should “Visit” Before You Die: A Luggage Seller’s Guide

Without any kind of guide or map, this would be quite a daunting journey, since there are currently 99 releases by The Fall to encounter when you include various compilations, studio and live CDs. The Fall are a rock band that were formed in Manchester, England, in 1976, and since their inception have consisted of songwriter/vocalist Mark E. Smith (who is from nearby Salford, an important distinction) and whoever else he lets play and drink with him. While the band’s sound does change significantly at times through the years with these shifting line-ups of musicians, here is a brief quote from Mr. Smith to clarify his position as the central cog in this revolving-door aspect of group membership. “If it’s me and your granny on bongos, it’s a Fall gig.” A small cottage industry on books about Mark Smith and The Fall has developed in the last few years, but none of them specifically tells you what stops are crucial for a successful musical pilgrimage—and what areas you can bypass. I will break down possible itineraries into two categories: essential sites and interesting side trips, with a disclaimer for places to avoid.

Essential Sites: The first five years of the band from 1977 to 1982 will comprise a good hunk, but certainly is not all of the important terrain that must be covered. “Live at The Witch Trials” is their first LP that was released in 1979 and has all of their classic ingredients. Ranting vocals from Smith combine with musician’s Bramah, Riley and Burns to ensure a guitar driven sound that was remarkably tight for the evolving punk rock landscape. Bassist Steve Hanley and guitarist Craig Scanlon enter in 1980 and in quick succession, “Grotesque (After the Gramme”), “Slates” and “Hex Enduction Hour” become a must-hear part of The Fall canon. The Hanley/Scanlon axis adds slashing guitar and bass to at-times venomous lyrics from Mark E. Smith (M.E.S.). “Totally Wired,” “N.W.R.A.” and “An Older Lover,” as well as “The Classical,” rank among the finest tracks they ever recorded. This period holds the essence of their organized cacophony that other bands have frequently imitated, but never succeeded in duplicating. That correct blend of riffs, minimalist freedom and bile could only be directed by one M.E.S.

Another era of the band that must be checked out is the 1983 to 1989 period that saw the arrival of Laura Salenger. After marrying Mark, Laura was known as Brix Smith, and her influence and overall style coincided with the band focusing on tighter song structures and not sounding quite as shambolic. U.K. singles such as “Victoria,” “Ghost In My House” and “Mr. Pharmacist” gained some airplay, and it looked like The Fall might finally break out of their cult status. My personal favorite from this period is “This Nation’s Saving Grace,” which is from 1985. Other travelers that have explored this region hold “Perverted by Language” (1983) and “The Wonderfull and Frightening World of The Fall” (1984) in equally high regard. Moving forward, the early ’90s found the band unsettled with all of its constant personnel changes, including Brix leaving both the band and Mark Smith. The overall songwriting seems to have lost its consistent edge, and not until the “Real New Fall LP” of 2003 is released does the band find itself on totally solid ground again. The constant changeover in band personnel at this time now seems to have given Mark a new transfusion of energy, and the song “Theme from Sparta F.C.” shows that they collectively still know how to kick ass. The easiest way to follow this crooked path that we have traveled so far would be to purchase the 6-CD box set, “The Complete Peel Sessions 1978–2004.”

Interesting side trips off the main road should include the 2-CD set, “27 Points” (1995)—a solid, mid-period live document—“Levitate” (1997) and “Unutterable” (2000). These last two studio releases have some strong moments and find M.E.S. changing the drum rhythms, leaving behind well-worn patterns and even allowing a few synthesizer parts into the tunes. It is reassuring to note that the 50-year-old Mark E. Smith hadn’t lost any bite with the band’s 2007 effort, “Reformation Post TLC,” or on “Imperial Wax Solvent” (2008). After 30-plus years of bringing his songs to life in recording studios, Smith is still a master at keeping things interesting. His success has always been based on not just taking the roads less traveled, but about following his personal muse, no matter what the consequences or where it might lead him.

We have to talk about the places to avoid with The Fall. Due to some financial difficulties, Mark wound up selling a variety of live tapes and studio out-takes to different labels for a quick infusion of cash to keep the whole operation running. Titles that fall into this category include “Fiend With Violin” (1996), “Oswald Defence Lawyer” (1996), and “Cheetham Hill” (1997). “Are You Are Missing Winner” (2001) just doesn’t have much to offer in the way of songs or performance, and the subsequent live tour captured on “2G+2” (2002) is equally uninspiring by Fall standards. Having said all that, keep in mind that if you get lost and wind up at any of the above places, you are still in a more interesting location than anywhere John Mayer, Keith Urban or Chris Botti are playing.

If you decide to follow The Fall on tour, I would recommend you purchase a quality piece of luggage that can withstand such an arduous journey. The Briggs & Riley Transcend 21.5-inch carry-on model (TD-U521X) is durable, has a lifetime warranty and gives you enough room for your clothes, iPod, laptop and external speakers. Whenever you decide it’s appropriate to finally have The Fall Experience, be sure to give yourself enough time to do it right. One week is not nearly enough—like an excursion to any faraway country, you’ll need extra days to just get acclimatized to the new sonic landscape. Anything written about The Fall should at least have a brief mention of their biggest supporter, the deceased legendary British radio DJ and Fall fanatic, John Peel. John was playing songs from one of The Fall’s new releases at the time on his show, and afterwards simply said, “They are always different, they are always the same.” This is still a perfect description for a band that continues to defy classification. Don’t hesitate to bring your Granny, along with her bongos—not only will she enjoy The Fall’s music, but she might even wind up playing onstage. Have a safe trip.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Apropos Nothing: A Few Loose Ends

Ten most played French Pop tracks, according to my iPod (as of November 29):

01. Serge Gainsbourg - 69 Année Érotique
02. Brigitte Bardot - Je Voudrais Perdre La Mémoire
03. Keren Ann - Deux
04.Coralie Clément - À L’occasion Tu Souris
05. Françoise Hardy - Ton Meilleur Ami
06. Jacques Dutronc - Le Responsible
07. Julie D - Aiko-Aiko
08. Sylvie Vartan - Si Tu N’existais Pas
09. Aline - L’education
10. Jacques Brel - Il Peut Pleuvoir

“Chestnut Mare” is the last great Byrds song. Written by Roger McGuinn and Jacques Levy, it’s a retelling of Peer Gynt’s opening act—except in this version, a horse takes the place of the reindeer. The narrator, Gene Tryp (I presume) is, like Gynt, something of a bullshit artist. The difference here, though, is that Peer Gynt didn’t fall in love with the reindeer. And that’s what makes “Chestnut Mare” a horse of a different stripe.

Twenty most played Class of ’77 UK “I call it Punk” tracks:

01. Doll By Doll - Teenage Lightning
02. The Clash - Janie Jones (demo)
03. Monochrome Set - Love Zombies (Peel Session)
04. Wreckless Eric - Waxworks
05. Scars - Aquarama
06. Damned - I Fall (live)
07. The Fall - Bingo-Master’s Breakout
08. Outsiders - Calling On Youth
09. Sham 69 - The Cockney Kids Are Innocent (live)
10. Tonight - Stroll On By
11. Undertones - Hypnotised
12. X-Ray Spex - I Am A Cliché (demo)
13. Buzzcocks - Why She’s A Girl From The Chainstore
14. The Jam - All Around The World (live)
15. Madness - E.R.N.I.E.
16. Stiff Little Fingers - Breakout
17. Magazine - Recoil
18. Ruts - You’re Just A …
19. Sex Pistols - Holidays In The Sun
20. Slits - Love & Romance

Not very inspiring, I know, but that’s what the iPod says.

Dearly Departed
A number of talented people checked out this year, and I can’t say I blame them. The following list contains those whom I consider important to my own musical education. Yes, that includes Beatrice Arthur. May they rest in peace …

January: Ron Asheton, Steve Edgson, Dave Dee, John Martyn
February: Tom Brumley, Lux Interior, Jorge Reyes (for Jim), Estelle Bennett
March: Kent Henry, Uriel Jones
April: Bud Shank, Randy Cain, Bea Arthur
May: Clive Scott, Uli Trepte
June: Sam Butera, Hugh Hopper, Bob Bogle, Seething Wells, Sky Saxon
July: Drake Levin, Twyla Herbert, Gordon Waller
August: Willy Deville, Rashied Ali, Ellie Greenwich
September: Bobby Graham, Mary Travers
October: Robert Kirby, Dickie Peterson, Al Martino, Vic Mizzy, Soupy Sales
November: Jacno, Al Alberts

My favorite Fall LP is still Dragnet.

Survey
If you had your choice of seeing one of the following in Taos, whom would you choose?

01. Roky Erickson
02. Calexico
03. The Black Angels
04. Tony Joe White
05. Circle Jerks
06. Holly Golightly
07. Jackie Leven
08. Acid Mothers Temple
09. Ozric Tentacles
10. The Sonics

Please email your selection to manbys.head@yahoo.com or add a comment here.
Happy Holidays!
Michael Mooney

Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney go back to the same ole ’hood in Philadelphia. Snows came and melted, planets danced in choreographed spatial arcs in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly diehard music fans, write of music appreciation and music history that speaks to nourishment more than entertainment. Stay tuned and enjoy.

Bobbie Gentry: Seasons Come, Seasons Go; Number 12 With a Bullet: The Death of Vocalist Walter Scott

2009-11-18T17:45:00.003-07:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Seasons Come, Seasons Go

Bobbie Gentry’s “Touch ’Em With Love” reached the lofty peak of 164 on Billboard’s album chart in 1969. Typical of her solo, post-Billie Joe output, it tanked in America. On the strength of Bobbie’s chart-topping version of “I’ll Never Fall In Love Again” (predating Dionne Warwick’s more playful American hit rendition by three months) however, the album was a UK hit. It’s a tremendous LP, possibly Gentry’s finest (there is no such thing as a bad Bobbie Gentry record.) The production is just right, and Bobbie nails every song. My only reservation is the lack of original material—just two of the 10 songs are self-penned. That they’re far superior to the covers (by the likes of Jimmy Webb, Bacharach-David, and Hurly-Wilkins) says much about Bobbie Gentry’s staggering talent. She is one of America’s great, underappreciated songwriters. Of the two, “Glory Hallelujah, How They’ll Sing” is a rousing and incredibly descriptive Countrypolitan Sunday Revival anthem (The Guardian includes it in their “1,000 Songs Everyone Must Hear” list. Here’s the entry: “Although it’s just ambiguous enough not to antagonize Bobbie Gentry’s large, hipster audience, Glory Hallelujah sees the Mississippi belle come, not to mock southern baptism, but to praise it. It isn’t in itself religious, but a celebration of the role faith plays in binding a community, from sing-songs at a country picnic to the barndance and church. The lyrics are fantastically detailed, and when the ecstatic gospel chorus breaks in, it would take a heart of stone not to feel the rapture.”) It’s that inspiring—almost enough to make me turn off the Fovea Hex this Sunday morning and get myself to church.

“Seasons Come, Seasons Go” is the other original track. At first spin, it sounds almost like a throwaway: predictable song structure, basic arrangement, no chorus, tacky harmonica, and the dreaded third (and fourth!) verse modulation. Six months ago, when Jim and I were researching numbers to feature at our (misnamed) 1969 Summer of Love dj session, this one very nearly made the first-round reject pile. But I listened again. Slowly, it began to reveal its melancholic beauty. One long crescendo, it’s a textbook lesson in how to layer instruments with subtlety, and Gentry’s casual phrasing reminds us that she would have made a terrific jazz singer. Heaven in two minutes, 50 seconds, and it’s all over much too quickly.

For me, after a bleak, nearly catastrophic winter, here was an encouraging song of renewed hope, the perfect balm for an unsettled spirit. Songs are funny that way. The good ones can sometimes be read like a map or guidebook. “Seasons Come, Seasons Go” defined my summer this year. Things happen for a reason, but the results are always for the better. “Don’t look back, good days ahead,” as Johnny once said. Except today, on a bright November morning, as I listen yet again, the future doesn’t appear to hold much promise. And while the sun is still shining, the air has turned cold. I realize now that I missed this song’s true meaning entirely. It isn’t about hope at all; it’s about loss. Songs are funny that way.

Now winter’s coming.

Dogwood blossoms float against
The ice encrusted creek bank
A tender blade of new green grass
Is bravely pushing upward through the melting snow
The Spring breathes ruffles through my hair
And whispers softly everywhere
Telling secrets in my eyes
Search the countryside for your hello
The seasons come, the seasons go

Lightning darts among the pines
Caught in a summer rainstorm
Soaking wet I look upon the new plowed earth
With rivulets between each row
I almost feel you next to me
And it stirs a memory
That hangs suspended with a sigh
And gently weaves its way through my bedroom window
The seasons come, the seasons go

See the grain lay scattered
In a trail that leads to nowhere
The rustling leaves beneath my feet
Swirl in a colorful kaleidoscope
A thousand spans of outstretched wings
Circle briefly, hovering
And they swiftly fly away
Leaving me to stay and face December snow
The seasons come, the seasons go

Ice encases blades of grass
Encouraging the wind to pass
And in the frosty morning sun
A field of diamonds beckon, waving to and fro
I stare into the fire a while
Think of you, my love, and smile
Wishing you were here with me
Sharing the security I know
The seasons come, the seasons go
-Bobbie Gentry

Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Number 12 With a Bullet: The Death of Vocalist Walter Scott

Bob Kuban and the In-Men were a rock band from St. Louis, Mo., who in 1966 had a top 40 hit called “The Cheater,” written by their bass guitarist Mike Krenski. Kuban was the drummer for the group and handled the business side of things like promoting the band and booking gigs. “The Cheater” is one of those tunes that, when you hear it on an oldies radio station, you can’t remember who did it, but you immediately start singing along.

Haven’t you heard about the guy known as the cheater
He’ll take your girl and then he’ll lie and mistreat her
It seems every day now
You hear people say now
Look out for the cheater
Make way for the fool hearted clown
Look out for the cheater

The lead singer for the In-Men was Walter Scott, a good looking young man who continued to front bands like The Kommotions after leaving Bob Kuban in the late ’60s. Walter divorced his first wife, largely due to his affair with another woman; he wound up marrying “the other woman,” JoAnn Calcaterra, in December of 1969. Walter Scott and The Cheaters was the band name that he settled on in the early ’70s, and he proceeded to lead a musician’s life of endless weeks spent touring before periodically returning home to the St. Louis area. By 1980 his marriage to JoAnn was in trouble due to his constantly being away from home, coupled with her fears that he was having an affair with one of his backing singers. In December of 1983 Walter mysteriously disappeared, his car found abandoned at the St. Louis airport. It turns out JoAnn was involved with a local contractor named Jim Williams who had recently done some renovations to the Scott’s home. In October of that same year, Jim Williams’ wife Sharon died in a very strange car accident. She was found alone and unconscious in her vehicle. An autopsy wasn’t performed until 1987, when it was revealed that a savage blow to the back of her head had killed her, not the car wreck which was assumed to be the cause of her death. Shortly after Walter’s disappearance in late ’83, JoAnn and Jim Williams started living together; they finally got married in 1986. In 1987, the police questioned Jim Williams’s estranged son—who was then serving time in Florida on an unrelated matter—if he knew anything about Walter’s disappearance. He told them it was just a guess, but to check the cistern located behind his father’s home. Walter Scott’s body was later found inside the cistern and, eventually, Jim Williams was arrested. The twists and turns of these two murders are detailed in Scottie Priesmeyer’s book “The Cheaters—The Walter Scott Murder.”

Bob Kuban and the In-Men watched in 1966 as their hit song “ The Cheater” raced up the charts. The music trade papers designate any song rapidly climbing the top hundred singles chart with a bullet next to the entry, to show that it’s moving fast. Even though “The Cheater” was number one in St. Louis, the highest it ever reached on the national chart was number 12. Walter Scott sang the words—“Look out for the cheater,” every night he performed live for the last 17 years of his life. Ironically, Walter was killed by a bullet from a gun at close range, the circumstantial evidence overwhelmingly pointing to the involvement of his wife’s lover Jim Williams. After a lengthy trial, conviction and appeal, Jim Williams was finally sentenced in 1992 for the capital murders of Sharon Williams and Walter Scott. JoAnn wound up serving 18 months on a five year felony charge—for making false statements and hindering the prosecution—before being released in 1994. Jim Williams is currently serving a life sentence with no chance of parole at the Potosi Correctional Institution in Missouri.

Haven’t you heard about the guy known as the cheater
He’ll take your girl and then he’ll lie and mistreat her
It seems every day now
You hear people say now
Look out for the cheater

Tough luck for the cheater
Too bad for the fool hearted clown
Tough break for the cheater
Who used to build you up just to let you down
“The Cheater”—words and music Mike Krenski

Jim Webb

Issa Bagayogo: The Techno Griot of Mali

2009-11-17T21:34:00.001-07:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

In the Wassalou region of Southern Mali is situated the small farming village of Korin. For many generations the people of this land locked region of West Africa have raised cattle and worked the soil. The constant cycles of drought have made their lives susceptible to famine, and food is never far from their thoughts. Issa Bagayogo was born in 1961 to a father that had four wives, and eventually was surrounded by fourteen brothers and sisters. All of the children at a young age were expected to work in the fields; it was the only way to stay alive. As a teenager Issa started to learn how to play the kamele n’goni, a traditional Malian six stringed instrument similar to a guitar. He was slowly getting a local reputation as a singer and performer when at the age of thirty Issa felt he had finally paid his family dues of working the land and headed for Mali’s capital city Bamako. He needed more out of life than the endless plowing of fields; it was time to try surviving as a musician.

In 1991 he wound up working briefly on a recording session at a new studio in Bamako that needed a n’goni player. In the evenings the studios engineer helped him make a cassette of his traditional sounding tunes, but still his music never reached a wider audience. He shuffled back and forth between his village and the big city for the next several years before finally becoming a mini bus driver in the capital. His lack of musical success led to excessive drinking and drug use that caused his life to spiral downward. His wife left him and some people thought he had gone crazy due to his many obsessions. He was uneducated by Western standards, but the one thing he had going for him was a determination and work ethic that can’t be taught in any book. He returned to the studio in 1998 with a clean lifestyle and a renewed purpose to achieve something with his music. The head engineer at Bogolan Studio was Frenchmen Yves Wernet, who talked to Issa about transforming his raw sound into something more modern. Yves wanted to use drum machines, keyboards, and female background singers to help give his songs a fresh contemporary edge. Issa was originally surprised at the results when he heard his voice for the first time wrapped around the layers of sound that had been added to his music. His vocals were still sung in traditional Bambara, his native language, but the additional instruments and electronic beats now helped make his traditional songs stand out in a marketplace full of aspiring musicians. Bamako was hungry for something new and his music started selling immediately; then the major label Six Degrees Records signed him to a contract and soon Issa’s music was available through out much of the world.

The hypnotic electro beat grooves of Yves Wernet and his crack studio musicians worked perfectly next to Bagayogo’s gritty vocals and the organic sound of his six string kamele n’goni. “Techno Issa” is now what everyone started to call him; 1999 was the year it all came together as he was voted Mali’s Brightest New Hope. In 2002, world music fans saw Issa on tour playing the influential WOMAD (World of Music Arts and Dance) Festival circuit drawing rave reviews. Tassoumakan was the title of his third cd in 2004 and means “Voice of Fire”, these songs speak about the evils of drugs, and the need for people to work together. For a long time now Issa had been carrying on the African Griot tradition in his music. The griot is not only a singer or storyteller, but someone who takes pride in teaching the history of its tribe to others. A personal highlight for him was performing in 2005 at The Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. Who could ever imagine back home in Korin that Issa’s ancient kamele n’goni would be heard in one of the most prestigious venues in America? He has continued to record and tour globally through the years and with his countrymen Salif Keita and Toumani Diabate is another link between traditional and modern music in West Africa.

The only thing dirt poor farmers in Wassalou can count on these days is that the setting sun still ends their day in the fields. When darkness comes, a few will later look into the night sky and ponder their future plans and dreams. Issa worked some of these same fields for over twenty five years, and has reminded them that with enough determination even difficult goals in Mali can be reached. I enjoy listening to Issa’s music, but his past as an illiterate farmer from Korin who refused to give up and ultimately triumphed makes me appreciate the man even more. Issa Bagayogo has reminded us all that through the inspirational power of music, anything is possible.

Issa Bagayogo Discography:
Sya (1999)
Timbuktu (2002)
Tassoumakan (2004)
Mali Koura (2008)
Issa Remixed (2009)

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney, shared a childhood back in the old neighborhood in Philadelphia. Tides waxed and waned, stars swirled through Van Gogh’s night sky in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly die hard music fans, write about music appreciation and music history in such a unique way that any university would be proud to have this pair in their curriculum. Stay tuned and enjoy.

Yesterdays Protest Song for Today

2009-10-20T05:26:00.000-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

On October 15, 2009 CNN reported that home foreclosures hit an all- time record high in the third quarter of this year. One in every 136 US homes is either in default, auction notice or bank repossession. In 1949, a New York State apple farmer named Les Rice wrote a song called Banks of Marble that detailed the plight of the working man, and their struggles against the Banks. Les was a neighbor of folk singer Pete Seeger, and a one-time president of the Ulster County Farmers Union. Pete’s group The Weavers recorded the song in 1950, and it has been a popular union song ever since, particularly in Ireland. American singer / songwriter Iris Dement has also performed the tune live on her recent tours.

Banks of Marble
We've traveled 'round this country
from shore to shining shore
It really made me wonder
the things I heard and saw

I saw the weary farmer
plowing sod and loam
I heard the auction hammer
just a-knocking down his home

But the banks are made of marble
with a guard at every door
and the vaults are stuffed with silver
that the farmer sweated for

I’ve seen the weary miner
scrubbing coal dust from his back
I heard his children cryin'
"Got no coal to heat the shack"
But the banks are made of marble
with a guard at every door
and the vaults are stuffed with silver
that the miner sweated for

I've seen my brothers working
throughout this mighty land
I prayed we'd get together
and together make a stand
Then we might own those banks of marble
with a guard at every door
and we might share those vaults of silver
that we have sweated for
-Les Rice

If Les was still around I know how he would feel about using tax payer money to bail out failing banks. All this talk about home foreclosures reminds me of an old adage: Buy land, it’s the only thing they can’t make more of. I hope no one else loses their job, and you can afford your mortgage payments, or you might wind up singing a certain tune from 1949.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

The First Time I Met The Blues

2009-10-15T05:57:00.000-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

When I was in the eighth grade at Cecelia Snyder Middle School in 1971 we had a substitute one day for our regular science teacher Mr. Moser. Science class was the first period after the lunch break, and with time to kill I decided to head there early. I wandered into an empty classroom and sat down at my seat. Pretty soon everybody else would start to casually file in, just another routine in a school day that had plenty of them to spare. As I sat in my chair I glanced up at the blackboard, and a phrase was written in the middle of it.

"When a man is down, the Blues are his best friend." - Muddy Waters

I read it a couple of times, but had no idea why it was up there, and watched as a few classmates started to stream in. The substitute teacher finally made his appearance as an ordinary looking, middle-aged white guy with a beard. Most subs fall into two types, the ones who want to continue the lesson plan as if they were the regular teacher, or they just give everyone a free study hall to due anything they want, as long as it stays quiet. He said he wasn’t comfortable doing the science work left for us, and instead we would have a discussion. After he read the quote that had been written behind him in chalk, he asked if anyone had ever heard of Muddy Waters. No one responded, so he went into a brief history of the blues, and eventually he even got a few kids to ask some questions. Somebody asked if Muddy was his real name, and that set off another long story about how musicians sometimes had nicknames and different performing names, turns out Muddys actual name was McKinley Morganfield. Old stories and songs from long ago, the whole thing sounded like they could have known Huckleberry Finn. At thirteen years old, this blues thing didn’t seem too exciting. The whole conversation was unusual, but subs sometimes acted a little weird, and the hour seemed to go by quickly with everyone bolting the room as soon as the ending bell rang.

In September of 1975, I went to an Allman Brothers concert at The Spectrum arena in Philadelphia and the opening act was Muddy Waters. It was a sold out concert, so there was about 18,000 people crammed into this big airplane hanger of a building. Muddy sat on a stool near the front of the stage while his band was behind him, and played for about thirty minutes. The Allman Brothers were a blues – rock band, so the crowd treated Muddy with respect. Polite applause after each number, but everyone was there to get crazy with some Southern Rock a little later. For the last song of his set, Muddy got off the stool and really leaned into a tune called, Got My Mojo Working. The crowd started to catch fire as this legendary old man of the Blues gyrated across the stage, barking out words, he was gonna show that big rock crowd he still had some gas left in the tank. He gave a quick wave to the crowd, and left to a loud ovation.

The seventies came and went, as did most of the punk and new wave bands that I religiously followed. Never missed a local concert by The Clash, or The Ramones, but by 1982 that whole scene was getting a little stale to me. Fashion bands like Duran Duran and Culture Club were everywhere; it was time to go in a different direction. Between 1983 and 1987, I headed straight for the Blues. Buddy Guy & Junior Wells, B.B. King, Albert Collins, Willie Dixon, Memphis Slim, Otis Rush, and John Lee Hooker are just some of the names we saw. After Willie Dixon and his Chicago Blues All-Stars played at The Chestnut Cabaret we went backstage to say hello. You could do that after a blues gig, no heavy security or a big entourage to stop you. Willie was one of the all-time great Blues songwriters that also played bass and had written numerous hits in the ‘50’s like Little Red Rooster, Hoochie Coochie Man, Spoonful, and I Just Want to Make Love to You. He was a huge influence on The Rolling Stones, Cream, Led Zeppelin, and hundreds of other bands. Willie was a big man, well over six feet tall, but he was still carrying around a lot of extra weight. The sweat was dripping off him; his clothes were soaked with perspiration from just escaping the hot stage lights. He was close to seventy years old, tired from still pulling one nighters all across the country, but he greeted us like we were old cousins from Chicago. With a smile on his face he said,” How ya doin’ fellas, how was it.” I was fumbling around for words; did I just hear Willie Dixon ask me how he played? “You sounded great,” was all I said. There were a hundred questions racing through my mind that I wanted to ask him; about songs he wrote, and old Bluesmen that he’d played with. He looked content sitting there resting on an old wooden chair, but he also appeared worn down. The questions I had ready to fire at him suddenly didn’t seem very important. My friend and I settled for an autograph on a scrap of paper, we shook Willie’s hand and left.

When a man is down, the Blues are his best friend. I had no idea what that meant as a thirteen year old. Muddy and Willie were both African-Americans, born in Mississippi at a time when the color of your skin determined what kind of life you would lead. Growing up in the 1920’s outside of Vicksburg and Clarksdale, they knew what it meant to be down. Almost everything, and as far as they could see was down. They didn’t have any rich relatives with good paying jobs; most of their kin scratched out a living working the soil all day long, they called it sharecropping. When things seemed like they just couldn’t get any harder, music became a way out of the madness for them. Muddy Waters and his good friend Willie Dixon passed away many years ago. They left behind a lot of great music, but more importantly, inside the songs they left us their hard earned truths.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

2012: The Return of Skiffle?

2009-10-14T19:51:00.002-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM
by Jim Webb

Modern day astronomers have calculated that on Dec. 21, 2012 our Sun will be aligned with the center of the Milky Way Galaxy for the first time in 26,000 years. I don’t think that it’s pure coincidence that the Mayan Long Count Calendar also predicts major changes at that same exact time. Some New Age shysters and general doom sayers have used this date to predict the end of the world. A closer look at The Dresden Codex (a historic Mayan work decoded) spoke of many things that were to happen on that date, and none of them specifically spoke of the Earth’s annihilation.

Here are some of the events that were prophesized over 1,000 years ago by the Mayan Indian Tribe for December 21, 2012; and why I feel they foreshadow the possible return of Skiffle.

1.) Physical or spiritual transformation will occur.
- Skiffle has this power over people, as witnessed during the 1950’s in the United Kingdom. It affected the lives and career paths of many people and was a positive life changing force.

2.) It will be a tremendously important event.
- After being exposed to a small dose of Skiffle in the mid to late 50’s, it has been estimated that from 30,000 to 50,000 British youths immediately created their own groups. Imagine what will happen if the whole world becomes infatuated with it.

3.) A major upheaval will take place.
- What could be more life changing than millions of people giving up their misguided enjoyment of rap, AOR (album oriented rock, for Rummy in El Prado) and general pop schlock for the organic vibrations of Skiffle?

Wait a minute, some of you might be thinking – what the hell is Skiffle? It originally started here in the good old U.S.of A. in the early 20th century. It was plain jug /string band music that had acoustic banjo, guitar, fiddle and even a kazoo thrown in at times. Homemade instruments made it affordable to just about anyone, but its popularity waned with the sophistication of Big Bands and commercial pop music. A revival of sorts occurred in British clubs of the mid fifties when jazz musicians took a short break or “Skiffle”, and certain players stayed for an up tempo set of old tunes in the traditional way. Lonnie Donegan became the most famous of these musicians and ultimately had twenty four successive top thirty UK hits. His, and Skiffle’s peak was 1957 when he ruled the airwaves with his no. 1 hit Gamblin’ Man. Such future rock luminaries as John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Van Morrison, Jimmy Page and Ritchie Blackmore (there’s a name The Secret Museum rarely mentions) were hooked on Skiffle at a young age and then spent untold hours banging away on their acoustic guitars. Skiffle was pretty wild for its day, but couldn’t compete with the uninhibited sexual energy and loud electric instruments of Rock and Roll, and like The Maya, mysteriously vanished.

The Mayan’s in their rituals and ceremonies were very aware of the cyclical nature of life. If they would have lived long enough they would have experienced and heard music go through its own cycles. Psychedelic Rock, Ska, Glam Rock, and Roots music have all come and gone in their popularity through the years. When we get tired of Alice Coopers Shock Rock, a few years go by, and then the next generation of youth thinks Marilyn Manson is something new and different. Who would have predicted that 1950’s style short haircuts for guys or Chuck Taylor sneakers would come back into vogue? Skiffle is like an earthquake fault line that is due for an eruption; minor shockwaves have been felt before, and in my opinion it’s just a matter of when. December 21, 2012 – Get your washboard ready, anything is possible, a new cycle is about to begin.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

That's Entertainment! Sunset Strip Book Clerk Dialogues

2009-10-14T19:17:00.003-06:00

The Secret Museum
by Michael Mooney

Michael Mooney: Your total comes to eighty-three dollars seventy-four cents.
Madonna (to baby daddy companion): What did he say?
Michael Mooney (to b.d.c.): Tell her he said, "It comes to eighty-three dollars seventy-four cents".

Michael Mooney: Hey, Mr. Reynolds, we gotta close now.
Burt Reynolds: Just give me another minute here.
[Five minutes later]
Michael Mooney: I'm sorry, Mr. Reynolds, we have to lock up now.
Burt Reynolds: Okay, just give me another minute here.
[One minute later]
Michael Mooney: Hey, Mr. Re...
Burt Reynolds: I said give me another...
Michael Mooney: GET OUT!!!

Mick Jagger's minder: Excuse me, is it alright if Mick jumps the queue? He's got to catch a plane.
Michael Mooney: Sure, if it's okay with them. [Gestures to line of customers.]
Mick's minder: Pardon me. Is it alright if Mick jumps ahead here? He has to catch a plane.
The Customers: Yes. Absolutely.
Mick Jagger: Cheers.

Michael Mooney: You can't park there. They'll tow you.
Leonardo DiCaprio: Aww, c'mon, man. Pleeasse?
Michael Mooney: Okay.
Leonardo DiCaprio: Cool!

Michael Mooney: Sorry, Lemmy, you have to take that cigarette outside.
Lemmy: Yeah, alright.
[10 seconds pass]
Michael Mooney: I kind of meant now.
Lemmy: Ah, fuck it!

Bruce Wagner (former hotshot LA novelist): Hey. This is Parker Posey. She's in Party Girl. See? [Gestures to advertisement on nearby billboard.] Can I get a picture of her with you for a piece I'm doing in Premiere?
Michael Mooney: No.

[Prince's driver knocks on locked door at closing time.)
Prince's driver: Can Prince come in?
Michael Mooney: Prince who? [pause]... Just kidding!

Billy Corgan: Where do you keep books on the 1830s?
Michael Mooney: What?
Billy Corgan: The 1830s. It's my favorite decade, history-wise.
Michael Mooney: Oh. Well, let's see. We may have a book on Andrew Jackson, or that new Hans Christian Andersen bio. They were both pretty busy in the '30s. Maybe something on the Greek Revolution?
Billy Corgan: Never mind. Where's the rhyming dictionaries?

Molly Ringwald: Do you have Joyce Carol Oates' On Boxing?
Michael Mooney: I think so. It should be over here in the Sports section.
Molly Ringwald: It's not a sports book; it's a novel.
Michael Mooney: No, it isn't.

Gregory Peck: You're holding a book for me. I'm Gregory Peck.
Michael Mooney: I know that!

[At book signing event]
Michael Mooney: Do you want me to put your jacket in the office, John?
John Lydon: Hah! You're not getting your hands on this. [He strokes the lapels between thumb and forefinger.]
Michael Mooney: Oh, like I'd want to steal that thing.

Suzanne Pleshette [sings]: Come on a my house, my house...
Michael Mooney [sings]: I'm gonna give you a Christmas tree!
Suzanne Pleshette: You have a nice voice.
Michael Mooney: So do you.

Peter Wolf: How do you get to Chatsworth?
Michael Mooney: No idea.
Peter Wolf: I gotta get to Chatsworth.

Co-worker: You remind me of Ice Cube.
Michael Mooney: Thanks. You remind me of Sharleen Spiteri.

[1995]
1940s tough-guy actor Lawrence Tierney: You from Philly? I spent time in Philly. Good town. You're okay, kid.

[1996]
Lawrence Tierney: Where's the dictionaries?
Michael Mooney: Just up the steps to the end. Turn left. You can't miss them.
Lawrence Tierney: Take me to them.
Michael Mooney: Sure. Just as soon as I move these books out of the aisle. Be a second.
Lawrence Tierney: Take a shower, you dirty rat bastard! Get a haircut!!
[He strikes Michael Mooney with his cane.]
Michael Mooney: Hey!
-mooney@taosnet.com

Fred Van Hove: The Most Adventurous Belgian Piano Player You’ve Never Heard Of

2009-10-08T18:56:00.000-06:00

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb

If you speak Flemish, or are familiar with European improvised music, you might have heard of Fred Van Hove. He is a very talented pianist from Antwerp, Belgium who was born in 1937. His father was a self taught musician who sent Fred at a young age to study classical music. Be-bop became an early passion, but once he was exposed to the liberating music of Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler in the mid ‘60’s he quickly became a disciple of the new “free”sound in jazz. By 1966, Fred was right in the middle of the blossoming European jazz/improvised music scene that included his friends Peter Brotzmann and Willem Breuker.

He has a unique style of playing the piano that falls between the cracks (and keys) of jazz and classical music. If you enjoy free jazz icon pianist Cecil Taylor, than unquestionably you will like Mr. Van Hove’s sound. Writer Tom Greenland has likened Fred’s piano playing to a “ballerina in hiking boots.” I would add that he explores the keyboard like it’s a musical Potters Field, unearthing unknown sounds and note combinations to create something truly fresh and original. Danger Will Robinson – Fred has been known to dump a bucket of ping-pong balls on the piano strings to alter the sound of the notes he’s playing. With all this talk of free jazz playing and experimenting with ping-pong balls did I just hear you mumble that he probably sounds like his piano is being thrown down a flight of stairs? Granted, it is very challenging music that Van Hove has created. Sometimes when I’m listening to his solo work (Flux), it sounds like he’s actually building a house. There’s some pounding and hammering on the keyboard at times, like nails being driven into wood. He’s definitely not all high energy; his playing often segues into lyrical, introspective sounding passages that hint at his classical studies as a young man. Mr. Van Hove’s artistry is held in such high regard that in 1996 he was named a Cultural Ambassador by the Belgian Government.

I was lucky enough to see Fred perform a solo concert in 2004 at Victoriaville, Canada as part of the Musique Actuelle Festival. I saw twenty- three gigs over three days (with the legendary Steve O.), and Van Hove was the highlight of the trip for me. He sat down at the piano and proceeded to create a totally improvised forty-five minute piece of music that left everyone stunned at its conclusion. Thunderous eruptions of sound would give way to rolling waves of notes that started at one end of the keyboard and made their way across it until his fingers ran out of keys to play. He would also work inside the piano, hitting the strings with various objects to alter the sound he wanted. No matter how out - there the performance got, Fred never lost his musicality. On a good night, the added beauty of watching and hearing improvised music being created is knowing that these exact sounds would never be heard again.

He is a master pianist, but he will challenge your definition of what that means. It is easy to list some of the different styles he has played in: be-bop, free jazz, improvised music, classical, and church music to name a few. Restrictive labels though don’t apply to Fred; he is simply too big a musical maverick to ever fit into those limiting categories. So, now that you are aware of Fred Van Hove, he is no longer the most adventurous Belgian piano player you’ve never heard of. He’s now just an adventurous Belgian piano player. That’s all he ever wanted to be.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Miles Davis: Fusion- His Final Frontier

2009-10-04T09:21:00.007-06:00

The Secret Museum

October 04, 2009

By Jim Webb

Miles Davis
Fusion: His Final Frontier

Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney knew each in the old neighborhood back in Philadelphia. Many, many, maybe too many? ... no, it’s all about the journey, right? Okay. Years later, events fell from the stars in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly die hard music fans, write in an almost esoteric, conscious streaming that is reminiscent of fine jazz (Michael) and blues (Jim). Stay tuned and enjoy.

Michael Mooney wrote:
Lydia Garcia is the new publisher of Horse Fly. She has agreed to keep us on (in spite of her copy editor's delicate nervous system); in fact, we'll be appearing in this month's print edition. Jim and I applaud Ms. Garcia's excellent taste in writing, and sound editorial skills.
-mm

On May 25, 1961 President John Kennedy declared that we would land an American on the Moon before the end of the decade. That same week trumpeter Miles Davis played Carnegie Hall in New York City with his acoustic jazz group. Since the mid forties Miles had been a pioneer and innovator of such jazz styles as be-bop, cool jazz and now with Gil Evans they were even combining a symphony orchestra with his trumpet playing. Two totally separate events, but in July of 1969 man would land on the moon and be the farthest away he’s ever been from Earth. By the summer of ’69 Miles would have taken jazz far away from its traditional origins, leading an electric crusade into unchartered musical waters.

The manned U.S. space program had several projects to complete before they were ready to tackle landing on the moon. The Mercury and Gemini missions were needed to test out complex maneuvers that were essential for going to the moon and back. In 1964 Miles had formed one of his classic quintets and began a new phase to his music. In order to break down some of the established barriers in jazz, Miles needed a new crew to work with. One of his greatest strengths as a leader was being able to find the right musicians that would help him realize the new sounds he wanted to create. The band took off when Wayne Shorter’s saxophone and Ron Carter’s bass was joined by twenty - three year old Herbie Hancock on piano, and the even younger Tony Williams (17) playing drums.

Classic albums like Nefertiti, Sorcerer, and Miles in The Sky soon followed and established the quintets’ reputation for pushing the boundaries of jazz into new territories. Chord structures were being left behind as they played in a “free” form style and in 1968 electric keyboards and guitar were added to Miles’ sound palette for the first time. More changes in personnel occurred on two key releases in 1969. In A Silent Way not only brought guitarist John McLaughlin into the music, but keyboardist Joe Zawinul as well. In a Silent Way was an electric album, with the tapes heavily edited later by producer Teo Macero, and it helped point the way for the full blown jazz- rock fusion of Bitches Brew.

July 20, 1969 found Neil Armstrong planting the American flag on the moon and the whole world celebrated this historic culmination of technical and human achievement. The three Apollo 11 crew members returned to Earth as heroes and were given a ticker tape parade in New York City. August 19, 1969 saw the album release of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. It was a cauldron of heavy electric riffs, long extended jams, and a volume level unheard of from a jazz musician. Miles started touring with keyboardists Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett, while drummer Tony Williams left to form a short lived group with John McLaughlin called Lifetime. This new style was a combination of rock music’s electric volume with Jazz’s virtuosity of musicianship, and was referred to as Jazz-Rock or Fusion. Miles had now not only left all the jazz “rules” behind, playing acoustically with organized chord changes, but he had left most of his original audience of the fifties and sixties behind as well. Hard funk’s influence from James Brown and Sly Stone was also being added to Miles’ new brew and he now played rock venues and sold more records than at any other time in his career. This new fusion of jazz, rock, and funk was beginning to become quite popular. Wayne Shorter and Joe Zawinul formed a group called Weather Report, and their success was rivaled by John McLaughlin’s new Mahavishnu Orchestra. Chick Corea founded another fusion band titled Return to Forever, and jazz guitarist Larry Coryell’s Eleventh House was also an early jazz-rock favorite. Herbie Hancock had left Miles by the early 70’s and in 1973 his new Headhunters group outsold them all with his funk fueled version of the fusion sound. Miles released Jack Johnson (1971) and then On The Corner, showing on the latter release that he was still in touch with “the street’s” need for funk. Big Fun and Get Up With It were next, both collecting various studio experiments from the 1969 to 1974 period. Tabla and sitar were now adding a world music feel to some of his new tracks, with the influence of modern classical composer Karlheinz Stockhausen affecting others. This fusion of many different styles of music with its increasing popularity was being looked at as something to be reckoned with, more than just the latest record company induced fad. Listeners were amazed at the advanced technique that these musicians displayed. Miles forged ahead at an unrelenting pace, recording such dark, intense live albums as Pangaea and Agharta that mirrored his own increasing drug usage and personal problems.

Apollo 17 was the final moon mission in December of 1972, and the Apollo program itself finally ended in 1975. The space program that had until recently been looked at with such necessity and pride by its citizens, now only caused a yawn. Been there, done that. The technological advances that caused such a sensation only a few years before now were looked at as an unnecessary expense. People were out of work and going hungry, who cares about moon rocks? By 1975 fusion was also starting to run its course, and was getting slammed for its cold, unfeeling technical virtuosity. Showing off dazzling technique had been looked at as a welcome departure from basic three chord rock and roll earlier in the decade, now it was becoming a liability in the fickle world of youthful musical tastes. Miles was physically exhausted from the last six years of touring and recording, he decided it was time to pack up his gear and head home to New York. He stopped playing music in July of 1975 and he wouldn’t perform again until 1981. When he returned it was a different world. The record labels had found out how to make money from television, the MTV generation was more interested in watching videos than actually listening to the music. Davis wasn’t even trying to be a trailblazer with his new band; he simply improvised on the melodies that interested him, and worked to get his rusty lip back in shape. I saw Miles live half a dozen times in the ‘80’s, and near the end of his career my favorite tune of the evening was always his instrumental ballad treatment of Cyndi Lauper’s hit Time After Time. The powerful hurricane force winds his bands generated in the seventies had dissipated long ago. He had some decent releases in the eighties (Amandla, Aura), but in my opinion there was nothing that we couldn’t live without. It is painful to write that about such a great musician. Miles may not have known it at the time, but he would never again help blaze a new path in music.

Some critics who only enjoyed traditional sounding jazz have blasted the seventies as a waste of time for listening to Miles Davis. They claimed he was just out to make a quick buck off the rock crowd, but what they forgot was that Miles whole career since the forties was always about change, and taking chances. Modern man has long looked at outer space as the final frontier in exploration, for Miles Davis and his jazz rock followers – the fusion era will be regarded as his last great musical journey.

Where Did All the Fusion Boys Go?

Herbie Hancock: 69 years old with numerous Grammies under his belt. Still experimenting with various styles of music; last release was a collection of Joni Mitchell songs.
Wayne Shorter: 76 years old, Weather Report broke up in 1986. Shorter is still highly regarded as a saxophonist and has been playing in a more traditional jazz style for years.
Tony Williams: Died in 1997 at age 51- a tremendous percussionist who is sorely missed.
Joe Zawinul: Died in 2007 at 75 years of age. After Weather Report he continued to lead a jazz/world music fusion style group.
Keith Jarrett: 64 years old, master solo piano improviser who is part of a long running acoustic jazz trio with Jack DeJohnette and Gary Peacock.
Chick Corea: 68 years old, still plays jazz on acoustic and electric keyboards. 2008 saw a Return to Forever reunion tour that was highly regarded.
John McLaughlin: 67 years old, after the original Mahavishnu Orchestra disbanded in 1976 he concentrated on his Indian/classical group Shakti. Now plays in a variety of jazz styles.
Miles Davis: Died September 28, 1991 at age 65. Legendary trumpeter who has played and been a major innovator in a variety of styles; Be – bop, Cool jazz, Hard bop, Third stream (with Gil Evans) and Fusion. His 1959 record Kind of Blue is arguably still the greatest jazz record of all time.

Recommended Listening
Weather Report – Mysterious Traveler
Mahavishnu Orchestra – Visions of the Emerald Beyond
Return to Forever – Where Have I Known You Before
Billy Cobham – Spectrum
Miles Davis – Bitches Brew, Big Fun, Get up With It, Pangaea

Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Uncovered: The untold showdown between The Isley Brothers and Nazareth

2009-09-29T05:35:00.003-06:00

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb

A lot of road tales from touring rock bands in the 1970’s are legendary. Hotel rooms destroyed, TV sets thrown out of tenth story windows, and even a Rolls Royce has been documented as being driven into a swimming pool. What hasn’t been talked about (until now) is an encounter that happened between two bands in 1976 in a Holiday Inn just outside of Detroit, Michigan. Both bands were at the top of their game, scoring with hit singles and playing to packed arenas across the country. It would seem like they had little in common, because the Isley Brothers were six black brothers(technically five brothers and an in-law) from Cincinnati playing a mixture of Soul, Rn’B, and Funk while Nazareth were four white lads from Scotland known for pounding out a furious hard rock attack. Nazareth had just finished opening for Ritchie Blackmores Raincoat at Cobo Hall in Detroit and had driven back to their motel in a thirsty mood. The Isleys had just finished a final recording session in the Motor City and the next mornings were flying to Atlanta to kick off their big tour. Nazareth lead singer Dan McCafferty was sitting in the lounge bar with guitarist Manny Charleton when unknown to them the Isley entourage wandered in. A top 40 cover band called Sin City was playing a lame version of K.C. & The Sunshine Band’s Get Down Tonight when Manny yelled out – “play a decent fooking tune.”

Ernie Isley walked in front of Charleton at that exact moment he yelled and stopped. He stared at him briefly, and then said – “cut’em a break man, it’s harder than it looks up there.” Manny was on his fourth Heineken at that point and quickly spat – “If you’ve gonna play a cover – give it a fooking kick, or leave it alone.” Ernie just laughed, “You kill me man, you don’t even have the balls to be up there, hidin’ behind that green beer.”
Dan was ready for a little fun and grabbed his bass player and drummer as he headed for the small stage. The lounge band ended their set and McCafferty told them the drinks were on him if they could borrow their instruments for awhile. Manny strapped on a Fender Strat with a scowl on his face, he was a Les Paul man all the way, but it would have to do. Dan said – “this is Vigilante Man by Woody Guthrie”, Manny played a long slide intro building up the intensity before McCafferty and his band mates cut loose with a roar. Ronnie Isley came up to Ernie and asked what’s up. Ernie didn’t say anything, too surprised at Charlton’s axe playing. A friend of Ronnie’s leaned over and told him – “I think that’s Deep Purple. Heard some of them was in town, those rock bands all sound the same, don’t they.” Ronnie didn’t say anything and took another sip from his Courvoisier. McCafferty announced Joni Mitchell’s This Flight Tonight and then the small room really started to cook. What was originally a soft, acoustic tune had been turned into something sharp and electric. Marvin Isley came over to Ronnie and said –“these are some scraggly lookin’ dudes – but they mean it.” Ernie piped in with – “I don’t dig no Joni Mitchell, she’s too wordy.” When the song was over Manny yelled over to the Isleys table – “that’s how you play fooking covers, make them yer own mate.” Ronnie unbuttoned his shirt and looked at Marvin, nothing needed to be said. You don’t make it in the music business for thirty years like the Isleys on talent alone; they learned the hard way you can’t back down from anything.

Somebody whispered in Ernie’s ear and then he came over to Ronnie and said –“that’s Nazareth, you know them guys. They did that heavy metal lullaby - Love Hurts.” Ronnie replied – “shit, that’s them? - they took that old Everly Brothers song and nailed that one too.” Ernie was getting worked up now. “What’s so special ’bout a man in leather singin’ sweet.” Ronnie looked over the top of his shades and softly slapped Ernie. “What the hell you think we did with Seals & Crofts Summer Breeze? It worked musically, financially and the women go crazy. We turned that baby inside out so much all them people bought it a second time from us because they couldn’t recognize it.” Nazareth’s manager walked up to the group and told the band the Isley Brothers were in the room. Dan walked over to Ronnie and shook his hand. “I love your band, and I love your voice.” Ronnie just smiled and said – “our turn.”

The Isleys jumped right into a high energy medley of Love The One Your With and Listen to The Music. If this was a cover contest, Nazareth picked the wrong Holiday Inn to start talkin’ trash. Ronnie then took hold of Todd’s Hello It’s Me and wrapped it all around his soul. The opening word - Hello - Ronnie kept repeating it like he had been hypnotized. Thirty-seven times he said the word, and each time he caressed it a little differently, adding an inflection that kept this one word mantra fresh, made it seem like a totally different song than what Rundgren had written.

Ronnie called Nazareth up to the stage, and he made sure Sin City was next to him as well. At this point no drinks were being served; the bus boys weren’t clearing any tables, the bartender lit up a cigarette. No one took their eyes off the stage; everyone was just waiting to see what was going to happen next. After a brief huddle between the musicians, Ronnie stepped to the mic and said – “here’s an old one from The Top Notes, we had a hit with it, and then some guys from England grabbed it.” Ernie kicked into Twist and Shout, and a joyous noise filled the room. Not everybody knew all the chords, but it didn’t matter. The bartender and waitresses knew how this one went and their voices filled in any musical cracks. When it was over Manny apologized to Sin City, told them he was wrong to say anything. Their lead singer said – “no man, you were right. Either make it your own – or don’t do it.”

It was time for both the Isleys and Nazareth to call it a night. The Isleys had to get to Atlanta to kick off a big tour, Nazareth had already been up a couple of days and it was time to crash for a least a few hours. The place cleared out after that special jam, and Sin City was left to play their last set of the night for the bus boys all sitting at one table in the far corner. A guy dressed completely in black walks into the lounge and sits down at the bar. He orders two Heinekens and swings around on his stool to get a look at Sin City. They start up Get Down Tonight, but before the lead singer says a word the man at the bar yells out – “Play a decent fucking tune.” One of the bus boys nudges his friend, “Hey, that guy over there is Ritchie Blackmore!”
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

King Crimson, Canned Heat

2009-09-02T18:13:00.003-06:00

The Secret Museum:
By Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Brian, Fripp, Gurdjieff & Me

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

I noticed in this morning’s news a small piece that said British authorities are going to re-open the case of ex- Rolling Stone guitarist Brian Jones death in 1969. We've read articles before claiming that there was more to that story than was reported, so it wasn't shocking. An hour later I was about to go on the elliptical workout machine and chose the cd Starless and Bible Black by King Crimson to be the soundtrack for this mornings exercise (penance). Through the years I've gone back and occasionally trying to figure Crimson out, but I never have gotten very far. I realized this morning that other than their first record, I just don't like 'em. Very little melody in their "songs", mostly dark, knotty passages to showcase their technical wanking. I remembered while listening to the cd that King Crimson made their breakthrough in July of '69 opening for The Rolling Stones in Hyde Park London in front of 500,000 people. That gig for The Stones was their first with new guitarist Mick Taylor replacing Brian Jones (who had either been pushed from the band, or stumbled out on his own). After Starless and Bible Black came out it wasn't very long before leader Robert Fripp disbanded Crimson in 1974. He was totally burnt out from the last five plus years of touring, and the pressures of leading the group. He wound up joining an esoteric school in the U.K. founded by John Bennett, who had been one of famed mystic, philosopher(charlatan ?) George Gurdjieff's advanced students in the 1920's. Bennett had kept searching for knowledge since Gurdjieff's death in 1949, and set up his own "school" incorporating a lot of his old teachers ideas and methods. I was done the work out and went back upstairs, on the counter was the current book I've been reading - The Struggle of the Magicians/ Why Ouspensky left Gurdjieff. The author in his preface claimed he could have called it - Why Oupensky, Orage and Bennett left Gurdjieff, but it was too unwieldy of a title. I stopped at that point and wondered if this was all just a coincidence, a silly version of the Kevin Bacon game, or was there a synergy of thought to this morning that when "busy" - I might never have noticed. The only other possibility that comes to mind is that I did have a magical piece of cake this morning from The Chocolate Maven in Santa Fe. I'll let you know if there is any more high weirdness later today.
-Jim Webb

Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

I always loved that photo from his What Are We Living For, of Bennett and his wife Elizabeth, taken the day before he died. I’m looking at it right now, and he appears as if he’s found all the answers, is totally at peace and ready to move on. Also, now that I think of it, I believe I borrowed this book from you. Oops!

Last week one of the TV news mags did a piece on the unofficial theme song to the Woodstock Festival, Going Up The Country by Canned Heat. I sat there thinking "I've always liked that tune," and also their earlier hit On The Road Again, but never really got into the band otherwise. I knew that guitarist/ Blues scholar/ soul-of-the-group Alan "Blind Owl" Wilson (singer of the aforementioned) died under mysterious circumstances in 1970, and growly-voiced Bob "The Bear" Hite of a heart attack in 1980, shortly after we moved to Los Angeles. I decided it was time to fully investigate Canned Heat. After an hour's research that morning, I determined the place to start was their second LP Boogie With Canned Heat. I wrote the title on a post-it, put it in my pocket, then headed over to my neighbor Julian's house. He'd asked me a couple of times to sort through his album collection and see if anything was of value and/or worth salvaging, and I was finally getting around to it. Out of 400-odd records, only two were from the rock era: The Guess Who's Wheatfield Soul (horribly scratched copy) and a near-mint Boogie With Canned Heat. I told him what I'd been doing just prior to my visit, and showed him the post-it note. This sort of serendipity happens all the time around Julian, so I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course the record’s mine now, and a damned good one, too. Next on my list is Future Blues.
-mm

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

After forty plus years of being infatuated with pop & rock music I can honestly say I've never purchased a Canned Heat 45, LP, 8-track , cassette or cd. Not that I didn't enjoy their sound, but for some unknown reason there are still good bands that the youthful mind refused to latch onto,and only now in middle age on hearing them do I realize what a grave error I had made in ignoring ________ years ago. I'm gonna get me some Heat.

P.S.

The liner notes to the remastered 1974 Crimson Starless & Bible Black cd listed the Top Twenty Sounds U.K. album chart as of March 23, 1974

1. Yes - Tales From Topographic Oceans
2. The Who - Quadrophenia
3. Bowie - Pin Ups
4. Genesis - Selling England by the Pound
5. Deep Purple - Burn
6. Ringo Starr - Ringo
7. Wishbone Ash - Live Dates
8. Stones - Goats Head Soup
9. Montrose - Montrose
10. Dylan - Planet Waves
11. Lou Reed - Rock n' Roll Animal
12. Blue Oyster Cult - Tyranny & Mutation
13. Alice Cooper - Muscle of Love
14. ELP - Brain Salad Surgery
15. Todd Rundgren - Todd
16. Bowie - Aladdin Sane
17. Lou Reed - Berlin
18. Yes - Yessongs
19. King Crimson - Starless & Bible Black
20. Magma - Mekanik Destruktion Kommandoh
-Jim Webb

Michael Mooney wrote:

Possibly the only sales chart EVER to feature Tyranny & Mutation. Sounds seems around this period to have appealed more to the sophisticated listener than Melody Maker or the NME. No post-glam, Rollers or even Slade. Good list though.
-mm

The Black Keys

2009-08-01T21:27:00.001-06:00

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb

Mike –

My sister from New Jersey visited with her husband and three kids around the July 4th weekend. While having a conversation about the music scene with my brother – in – law Brian, he suddenly asked me who I liked that was a newer band. He didn’t want to hear about any of the old groups that I’m listening to, but he pressed me if I liked anything that was current. It did knock me off stride for about three seconds, because I don’t really like much of the newer stuff I’ve heard. After a slight pause I didn’t hesitate in telling him – “I like The Black Keys a lot.” His response was immediate – “Who are they”.

The Black Keys Take Us Back to the Future -

Welcome to a very heavy two man wrecking crew of a band from Akron, Ohio. Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney burst out of their basement in 2001 and haven’t let up yet. In a nutshell this is a back to the future mixture of blues rock plus. Mix in a heavy dose of souped up electrified blues riffs with a jigger of Garage rock fuzz, and stir with three minute songs of Punk intensity to wind up with a tall glass of The Black Keys. It’s easy to think they will be unoriginal in their sound, carrying that kind of old baggage with them, but what’s amazing to me is that Dan’s guitar riffs sound remarkably fresh. Blues based rock can quickly turn into clichéd licks and worn out vocal phrases, but they revitalize it with their youthful intensity. The younger Bonaroo crowd likes their straight forward guitar rock (musical cousins to The White Stripes), while the over forty crowd should enjoy Dan’s bringing back the lost art of Jimmy Page style riffing. Their first cd from 2002 titled The Big Come Up has a low fi garage feel, but never gets dull with some solid songwriting as well. This ain’t only blues rock; they’ve gone past that narrow label – how about just calling it good old basic rock n’ roll.

**** WARNING : IF YOU THINK LOGGINS & MESSINA, BILLY JOEL, OR BRYAN ADAMS ARE GOOD BASIC ROCK N’ ROLL PLEASE STOP READING AND IMMEDIATELY GO ON TO THE NEXT HORSE FLY ARTICLE. ****

Their core sound hasn’t changed too much through the years, and after getting their first cd I felt compelled to start adding the rest to my pile. Thickfreakness (2003), Rubber Factory (2004) and Magic Potion (2006) are what followed, and their most recent release has producer Danger Mouse adding a sprinkling of organ, piano, and synth to spice up the mix on 2008’s Attack & Release. They are also familiar with and have strains of the Southern blues sound and spirit of Junior Kimbrough and R.L.Burnside in their music, the 2006 ep Chulahoma being a special tribute to Kimbrough. The Black Keys have taken that dull old recipe for blues rock and kicked it up a notch with Auerbach’s fat guitar sound, gritty vocals and Carney’s “less is more” sounding drum style. Dan’s rig (for Rummy in El Prado – this is muso talk for the type of guitar, amp, speaker and pedal/effects that he uses to get “his sound”) gives him a thick Billy Gibbons style punch that I welcomed back onto my stereo with open arms.

The Black Keys are just the latest group to find success blending rock with blues by adding their own special blend of intensity and influences to create some fresh mayhem. Dan Auerbach has said that Led Zep was an influence on him, as well as Devo, Captain Beefheart and Howlin’ Wolf among others. In 2008 blues rock icon and Cream bassist Jack Bruce accused Led Zeppelin of stealing his sound back in ‘69(I know it seems unbelievable that it took Jack 40 years to come up with that, but it’s true). I guess 40 years from now( Jack will be 106 yrs. old) we should expect to hear Bruce bellowing from his local pub stool that Dan & Patrick are really his bastard sons and owed all of their success to him. It won’t surprise me if Jack is still trying to take credit for every riff that came after him, and I also won’t be shocked if The Black Keys are still pounding away in the year 2049. Even if Bruce and The Black Keys are long gone by then, rest assured somebody will still be mixing blues and rock together. Why wait for what that future blues rock moonshine might taste like, we got a bottle of our own 2009 vintage right here to drink. Hey Brian – try some of The Black Keys, it’s got a nice kick to it.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Gimme Five

2009-07-17T07:02:00.007-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Jim Webb writes:

Mike--

After spewing forth some verbiage recently on mega selling bands Bachman – Turner Overdrive and Grand Funk Railroad, it seems like the right time to unleash our personal Top Five most underrated bands/artists. The only qualifier I would like to add to my list is that for me they not only had to be making great music that is overlooked by the masses; but also consistently played by me. I have bought and enjoyed a lot of cult favorites through the years (Big Star, Magnetic Fields, Tortoise for just three), but that doesn’t mean they were regularly played after initially checking them out. How much you actually listen to a given cd has to be the ultimate measure in anyone’s personal rankings of favorites – whether the group / musician is known or unknown. To summarize the immortal words of our ex-Secretary of Defense and neighbor Donald Rumsfeld – “There are known unknowns, and unknown unknowns.” I will apply Rumsfeldian theory in a musical context, rating each musician / group after a brief description of their work.

1.) Bill Nelson

Bill is a very talented guitarist who was the leader of U.K. 70’s rock band Be Bop Deluxe, and has been releasing his own solo recordings since the early eighties. Prolific would be an understatement since he has forty -eight full length cd releases since 1991. He works in a variety of styles from three minute slices of electro- pop with vocals, to half hour instrumental tracks that weave electric guitar with washes of synth and percussion that always have a strong melodic content. A one man band that works out of his home studio, his music never has an overly slick feel to it, and he always gets a great sound on his recordings. His piece de resistance for me is his 6 cd box set released in 2002 titled Noise Candy. When is the last time someone released six hours of new material? It covers the full gamut of his sound palette from guitar dominated rock tunes, to futuristic cosmic cowboy music and everything in between. With that many releases over the last fifteen plus years, one of his knocks is that parts of his recent work start to sound too similar. Anything he’s done since ’91 is very consistent, and the current period from 2002 to the present will be remembered as The Golden Age of Nelson. Bill’s still going strong though at age 61, and even with his extensive back catalogue I’m still greedy for more.

Rumsfeld Rating – Known Unknown.

Bill has been around the block, and some people might remember him from his Be Bop Deluxe days, but he hasn’t been played on American radio or done a proper tour of the U.S. since the 70’s.

2.) The Bevis Frond

Nick Saloman is The Bevis Frond. He’s another guitar maverick from England who has been making music since the late seventies. Nick is a totally different kettle of fish than Mr. Nelson. Saloman is a throwback to the late sixties when psychedelic guitar ruled. I’m not talking about the clean guitar leads of Jerry Garcia, but a blazing fuzz thrash that at times explodes out of your speakers a la the MC 5. Miasma was the first release in 1986 and was soon followed by Inner Marshland and then Triptych. If Jimi Hendrix style guitar is your cup of tea then hop aboard, and I’m not talking about the Stevie Ray Vaughn variety of safe blues rock, but the anything goes guitar freak outs that made America the home of the free in the sixties. Nick is a solid songwriter and guitarist whose recorded work is only hampered by his limited vocal range. Some people might say his early four track home recordings are too lo-fi in quality, and that he seems to be trapped in his bedroom with a lava lamp playing endless guitar solos. I’d counter that he’s simply stuck to his guns, and hope he finds a way to keep making great music. Any of the first three cd’s are worth hearing, and Through the Looking Glass, New River Head, North Circular, and Son of Walter are also prime examples of Nick Saloman’s musical creativity.

Rumsfeld Rating – Unknown Unknown

A few rare club tours in the early 90’s but The Bevis Frond are a classic below the radar group.

3.) Muslimgauze

Bryn Jones was a 22 year old white male from Manchester, England when he began his musical odyssey in 1983. He was heavily influenced by the Israeli / Palestinian conflict, and was outraged at what he considered to be Israeli racism and human rights violations against the Palestinian people; he vowed to champion their struggle. He taught himself to play various hand drums, and then became highly skilled in the intricate rhythms and patterns of Arabic percussion. All of his subsequent cd and song titles referred back to the Middle East conflict, and referenced events, Arab towns and Islamic imagery that are all bound up in this continuing struggle. The music besides frequently having a Middle – Eastern flavor is heavy on a pounding percussion bed that lets various tape loops and recorded Arab voices drift in and out of focus. Repetition plays a large role in the sound world of Muslimgauze. Repeating percussion tracks add to the hypnotic quality of his work, but the flipside to this is that some tracks just go on far too long without enough variation. Another musician with a large body of work, Muslimgauze has over one hundred different releases. At one point I had every one. Obsessive, check. Compulsive, check. I’ve since whittled it down to my key 30 or so titles (does that make me more normal?)Some are more stripped down bass n’ drum oriented (Lo Fi India Abuse), others more unrelenting in their rhythmic attack (Arab Quarter). My favorite are the cd’s that combined his intricate percussion with voices floating in and out of the mix like a dry wind blowing over the Sinai ( Al Zulfiquar Shahed, Return of Black September). If you only wanted to try one, I would go with the three cd effort titled Fatah Guerrilla. You get a little of all his different styles on this one, if you don’t like Muslimgauze after hearing this – don’t even try any of the others. Bryn died of a rare blood disease in 1999 and in my opinion the vault releases that have come out since then are for true fanatics only. They are sparser of the rich ideas that were abundant on some of his work that was released while he was alive.

Rumsfeld Rating – Unknown Unknown

Muslimgauze only ever played a handful of live dates, very little media coverage

4.) Jackie Leven

He released his first LP Control in 1971 while living in Madrid (Spain) under the stage name of John St. Field. It has since become a sought after folk, psychedelic classic for its haunting tales with unusual vocal arrangements. He was also the main writer, vocalist in the band Doll by Doll that was active in the U.K. rock scene from 1978 to 1982. After a brief attempt a solo career he retreated into a haze of drug and personal issues that took a number of years for him to sort out. He returned to the music scene with his 1994 release entitled The Mystery of Love, is Greater Than the Mystery of Death and has been averaging about one new cd per year since then. What puts Jackie on this list? A great voice and a unique vision that compels him to write about what most other singers have ignored. His songs will at times confront issues of loneliness and despair, or choices made in life with a frankness that will be too raw for some. There is a beauty to his words that makes me want to mention his influences like poet’s Rilke or Akhmatova over other modern day solo artists who simply churn out their personal dairies in boring detail. Leven’s way of doing things is definitely outside the box since he has Robert Bly and other guests regularly recite poetry on his cd’s in the space between the recorded songs, and he has also never toured the United States. If you’ve had your fill for a while of American songsmiths like Lyle Lovett or John Prine (whom I both like), or can’t seem to get into Dylan and the old warhorses anymore, give Jackie a try. He isn’t always soothing if you only want some happy music after a long day at work, but for discriminating tastes Jackie might just become your new favorite bottle of singer/songwriter wine. Personally I wish he would rock out more, we’ve seen that side of him in Doll by Doll, but that part of his music seems to be in the past. In thirty years of listening to him I’ve rarely gotten tired of hearing about his many traveled roads and the experiences on them.

Rumsfeld Rating - Known Unknown

Jackie has a small but devoted following in Germany, Norway and the U.K. When is that loveable fat bastard going to do a U.S. tour?

5.) The Flower Kings

Good god, how did a progressive rock band from Sweden sneak into the top five? Two words – Roine Stolt. He is the lead guitarist, sometime vocalist and chief songwriter for this group that began in 1994. All of the classic 70’s elements of Yes, Genesis and King Crimson are present in their sound, but that never bothered me like it has some of their critics. If Stolt and Co. can unleash an epic that is as good as Yes’s Close to the Edge (Stardust We Are), what do I care who their influence was on a given track? They do have a 59 minute song titled Flower Power, so some warnings need to be issued. If you have absolutely played out your Genesis and Yes cd’s, this is your band. I think their best period is from 1999 to 2002 which includes Space Revolver and the two cd release Flower Power. Their more recent work (Paradox Hotel) just hasn’t had the great songs that made their earlier releases so strong. This is not overplayed music by Prog-fusion tech heads that lacks passion or feeling. Roine Stolt writes in a variety of styles, but usually has great melodies attached to his down to earth lyrics. Too bad only their European audiences (and a few rare U.S. club tours) have been able to see what they’re up to.

Rumsfeld Rating – Known Unknown

The Flower Kings have played Europe semi - regularly and the occasional Prog Festival in the U.S.

The next time I’m in Taos I’ll see if Don Rumsfeld wants to get together for a scotch, and listen to some of these cd’s. What he thinks about them at this point is an unknown unknown.-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net
________________________________________________________________________________________

Michael Mooney writes:

Jim-

Here are five regular rotation selections from me (chronological):

1. Mellow Candle (Swaddling Songs- 1972) - Rumored to be the worst-selling LP in the history of Deram Records, Swaddling Songs is one of the Great Lost Albums of Rock. Sort of Prog, sort of English Folk, and sort of neither, it’s a one-of-a-kind recording that, for me, conjures up that in-between time of the early 70s (before the rot set in) when anything was possible. I probably play this CD more than any other. Reissues abound.

Also recommended: The Virgin Prophet (demos)

2. Kleenex (aka LiLiPUT) - The best Punk group not from the English-speaking world, Kleenex personifies everything that was right about the late 70s DIY musical revolution: fun, spirited, and slightly ridiculous. They should have been huge.

Kleenex’s Complete Recordings are readily available as a double disc set from Kill Rock Stars, and it’s great.

3. Microdisney – Ironic before irony became just another stupid pop culture device; creators of yuppie-baiting yuppie music. Cathal Coughlan and Sean O’Hagan joined tuneful Pop with trenchant lyricism and created the anti-80s. Self-loathing but proud, spiteful yet compassionate, Microdisney foretold a future that, unfortunately, appears to be coming true: “No faith, no love. Nothing.” Whistle while you work.

The best: Everybody Is Fantastic (1984), We Hate You South African Bastards retitled Love Your Enemies for CD release (1984); The Clock Comes Down The Stairs (1985); Peel Sessions (1989)

The other two: Crooked Mile (1987), 39 Minutes (1988)

4. Ian Masters (Pale Saints, Spoonfed Hybrid, E.S.P. Summer, I’m Sore, Friendly Science Orchestra, Wing Disk, Ashioto, Sore & Steal, etc.) For 20 years now Ian Masters has been creating some of Pop’s most adventurous music. Best of all is 1992’s In Ribbons, Pale Saints finest moment and one of the greatest recordings of the last 50 years.

Also recommended: The Comforts Of Madness (1990), Mrs. Dolphin (1990 EP compilation)- Pale Saints; Spoonfed Hybrid (1993), Hibernation Shock (1996)- Spoonfed Hybrid; E.S.P. Summer (1995); new Sore & Steal out soon.

5. Fovea Hex (Neither Speak Nor Remain Silent- 2006/2007) - Mellow Candle composer/vocalist Clodagh Simonds returns with a stunning 3-EP series (Bloom, Huge, Allure), and help from notables like Fripp, the Eno brothers, Carter Burwell, and Andrew McKenzie. The theme here seems to be Loss, and that notion is reinforced by the ambient solemnity of the recording. It’s hypnotic and quiet, yet also deceptively musical. Above all, though, is that delicately beautiful lived-in voice. I could listen to Clodagh Simonds sing all day long, and normally begin every Sunday by playing this set in sequence. Available individually or complete from Janet Records, Dublin.
-Michael Mooney

The Clash- Rat Patrol From Fort Bragg

2009-07-07T06:41:00.003-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

Thanks for sending me the unreleased Clash cd - Rat Patrol From Ft. Bragg, I few thoughts on what happened to The Only Band That Matters

The Clash- The Unreleased Combat Rock Sessions

I could have just as easily subtitled this the Final Mission, because after guitarist Mick Jones was sacked the band was never the same. Plenty of ink has already been used on describing The Clash’s rock n' roll fury that burst onto the U.K. punk scene in 1976. Two guitars, bass and drums - that's the basic template that caused so much havoc, with songs that were shouted from two mouths that told of the pain and anger of living in a society that didn’t care what happened to them. Joe Strummer and Mick Jones were a classic British Rock tandem in the tradition of Lennon - McCartney, and Jagger - Richards. Joe had the swagger, Jonesy had the riffs, and with Paul Simonon on bass and eventually Topper Headon on drums their classic lineup was complete.

Combat Rock was an official release in 1982 and had two of The Clash's most radio friendly songs in Should I Stay or Should I go, and Rock the Casbah. The rest of the LP mostly showed a continuation of the neo-funk sound that was first born on their 3 LP Sandinista effort in 1980. Rat Patrol From Ft. Bragg was from the original Combat Rock sessions, but with material that was never released, and different mixes on songs that did make it to Combat Rock. I think this hybrid sound shows the band continuing to experiment in a variety of styles. The Beautiful People Are Ugly is a really catchy tune with nice keyboard work, I can't figure out why it never made the final cut. Ft. Bragg also has a couple of instrumental only takes on Overpowered by Funk and Rock the Casbah. Either you are a fan of listening to works in progress without vocals (I am), or these tracks might bore you a bit. Car Jamming, Cool Confusion and & Atom Tan all have an unusual groove that has grown on me through the years. Ghetto Defendant isn't bad with a guest appearance by poet Allen Ginsberg, it just reminds me too much of an earlier Clash tune called Bankrobber that I prefer over this. The only total disaster in my opinion is Red Angel Dragnet with Paul Simonon on a half spoken / half chanted dopey vocal that never seems to find its way. Straight to Hell is simply a great song, and one of lead vocalist Joe Strummers strongest efforts in a life that ended prematurely with his death in 2002. This tune has a haunting melody that is set against a tale that emotionally describes various injustices that have occurred around the world. I was under whelmed when Combat Rock originally came out, chiefly because I was let down with the variety of musical hats that they continued to try on. It seems a little fresher now never having played it to death like London Calling or their first LP from 1977.

The bigger problem for me is why The Clash kept drifting away from their strength as one of the greatest rock bands of all time. Their 1977 debut was an incendiary mix of thrashing guitars and burning vocals. Give Them Enough Rope in 1978 and The Cost of Living E.P. both continued with a big guitar sound. London Calling (1979) is an unqualified success, but their further branching out beyond two guitar rock was evident in Rudie Can't Fall and Revolution Rock among other tracks from that release. The brief diversions into new territory that were enjoyed on London Calling, started to be called into question by the faithful on Sandinista. Here was a sprawling 3 LP meal that had large helpings of funk, rap, soul, dub reggae and beyond that really should have been condensed into just a single record, and that’s not even addressing the bigger issue of its overall thin quality. Combat Rock picked up where Sandinista left off with a loose funk hybrid that was sometimes interesting, but ultimately frustrating again in its small doses of what they did best - rock n' roll.

The Clash got increasingly addicted to a musical cocktail of urban funk and experimentation. That ongoing hangover wound up leading them onto a road where they became trapped in a large traffic jam with hundreds of other groups. We didn’t need them for funky tales from the inner city, George Clinton and others were already on that corner. What we did need them for was blazing away on stage with a redhot intensity, playing as if their life was at stake. The Clash at full throttle was like no other, and showed the audience what it meant to be truly alive, and that was a rare and beautiful thing to be part of. After Mick Jones got fired he took the recipe for their urban funk cocktail, put a new olive in it and called it Big Audio Dynamite. Joe grabbed a couple of young kids and tried to call it The Clash, but we all knew it was in name only. For the next ten plus years Strummer entered his wilderness period before resurfacing with another multi – cultural sounding group - the Mescaleros.

Here’s a novel thought, why doesn’t someone just make straightforward rock n’ roll. In the last twenty- five years (if Mick’s new group Carbon/ Silicon is his answer, pray that Jah sends him more songs) only the U.K. band Wire has for me sporadically reached that same blast furnace intensity that was The Clash’s calling card. Everybody’s so obsessed with experimenting out on the fringe of electronica, funk, rap, and world music that we forgot about the template that has never failed when done right: two guitars, bass and drums. What we are still desperate for in 2008 is a real rock band. We need a group that could invent their own I Fought the Law, a group that plays every night like it might be their last. I read Mojo, and have listened to Franz Ferdinand, The Kaiser Chiefs and all the other latest Next Big Things that they trumpet about each month. What eventually happens is that they all wind up swiggin’ Dom Perignon in St. Bart’s with a supermodel on their arm, that’s the only thing you can learn from The Mick Jagger School of Rock. You can have U-2 with all their managers and accountants, I’m looking for something real, something that doesn’t have a marketing plan in place before they even plug in for the recording session.

I understand that The Clash needed to grow musically, and it's not up to me to decide where their Muse should’ve taken them. I don’t go to bed at night wishing that when I wake up it will again be the first day that London Calling was originally released. Some might say I’m a greedy, thankless bastard for wanting more than what Joe, Mick and The Boys gave us. To this day I still can't understand how The Only Band That Matters got so lost searching for new sounds that they could forget where their musical home base was. In the great tradition of the Bermuda Triangle, Area 51, and British crop circles - who really knows exactly what happened out there between Joe and Mick in the foggy marshland known as personal and musical differences.

The only thing we do know for certain is that after putting on their Combat Rock fatigues and leaving Ft. Bragg it all collapsed. They got lost, collectively and individually, and it’s been surmised that after being stressed out from too many drugs and living in each other’s pockets on the road for years they couldn’t even think straight. The sad truth is The Clash broke apart, and like any rare, one of a kind piece of art that is irretrievably broken, it is irreplaceable and gone forever.

Combat Rock is a good listen, and if you’ve never heard it, you should take the time and check it out. Look for Rat Patrol as well, you can find it at any of your better download sites. Even when not in a pure rock n’ roll mode, The Clash were still better than most bands.

Forget about all the accepted insider wisdom that claims to know how and why it all shattered at the end. Maybe there’s a much more simple answer as to what really happened. They were just overpowered by funk. That’s all. Funkpower over and out.
-Jim Webb

Grand Funk Railroaded; Michael Jackson; Sky Saxon

2009-06-26T09:44:00.002-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM: Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Michael Mooney wrote:

If he never recorded another note of music, Michael Jackson would still be remarkable for the initial run of singles the Jackson 5 released between October 7, 1969 and August 28, 1970 (the day preceding his 12th birthday.) Four great songs, four number ones. Michael the single-white-gloved moonwalking pop phenomenon never meant a thing to me; neither did wacko Jacko, the surgically reconstructed baby-dangling friend to all children. It’s those four songs: I Want You Back, ABC, The Love You Save, and I’ll Be There that I remember when I think of Michael, and that sharp, soulful little kid and his brothers on The Ed Sullivan Show and American Bandstand. He’s been gone a long time.

Far more important to me is Psych/Garage Punk titan Sky Saxon, who, in one of those weird Rock coincidences, died the same day as MJ. The Secret Museum will prepare a full appreciation in the upcoming weeks.

One of our readers asks: But is it really Grand Funk Railroad without Mark Farner?

No. In order to make claim to the original name, even if you legally own the right, like that piggish opportunist from the Guess Who, Secret Museum rules
dictate that you must have a minimum of one irreplaceable member/extremely important person (Don Brewer does not qualify- even though he wrote and sang their biggest hit, and is definitely an important component to the band, he's not THE guy; plus, he’s a drummer) and (with rare exceptions) one original deputy/up-there-but-not-essential member (Brewer does qualify for this, as does bassist Mel Schacher.) If Brewer left and Farner returned, we'd have us a Grand Funk Railroad. If Brewer and Schacher remain, AND Craig Frost returns, AND Mark Farner's son joins on guitar and vocal, it's still not Grand Funk Railroad (see Blue Oyster Cult for evidence of how this is supposed to work.)

To expound further, let’s look at the Stones. In my opinion, there are four sets of Rolling Stones:

Stones with Brian
Stones with Mick Taylor
Stones with Ronnie Wood (up until Bill Wyman left)
Post-Wyman Stones

I prefer the first version, approve of the second, and tolerate the third. And while I agree with Bob Dylan that the Stones without Bill are a funk band, I’ll concede that they’re still the Rolling Stones. Take away Charlie, Keith or Jagger, however, and you’ve got a different band entirely.

Same goes for Led Zeppelin. I would trade Robert Plant for Terry Reid any day, but without Bonzo, there’s no Zep. No Page, no Zep. No Jones, no Zep. Instead you’d have the New Yardbirds.

The Beatles equals John and Paul. Pete Best is proof that you don’t need Ringo. So’s Paul. George was a fab SOLO artist while IN the group, but not essential TO the group.

Fairport Convention could survive Sandy Denny’s departure, but after Richard Thompson left, so went Fairport Convention. Were he to return now, it’s still only barely Fairport. They would really need Ashley Hutchings to seal the deal. And Simon Nicol has to be there.

Reader: But what about Herman’s Hermits?

Good question. Don’t be fooled by Peter Noone. As we all know, Leck Leckenby is no longer with us. Therefore, Keith Hopwood is required to be on the stage in order for Noone to call it Herman’s Hermits.

The Kinks are Ray and Dave AND Mick.

There are three Secret Museum-recognized Fleetwood Macs:
1. Peter Green version
2. Post-Green, pre-Buckingham/Nicks variants
3. Buckingham/Nicks version.
Everything else is fraudulent.

Jefferson Airplane would require Grace, Marty, Paul, Jorma and Jack. It doesn’t matter who plays drums.

Wire: three out of four original members doesn’t work. I wish it did.

(As Jim reminds me) The Fall: one original member. Mark E. Smith said, “If it’s me and your gran on bongos, it’s a Fall gig.” Absolutely.

Sex Pistols: four out of four equals zero.

The Who hasn’t existed since 1978.

No Yes without Anderson, Squire and Howe.

Here are some acts soon to appear locally, grouped by authenticity-

Legitimate:

Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks
B52’s
Martha Reeves & The Vandellas
Cowboy Junkies
Mighty Diamonds (all original members since 1969!)
Heart
Earth Wind & Fire
Slayer
Blondie
Motley Crue
Judas Priest
Heaven and Hell (this is how it should be done)
Los Lobos
Cheap Trick
Def Leppard
Ween

Borderline:

Asleep At The Wheel
Chicago (RIP Terry Kath)
The Spinners

Bogus:

Grand Funk Railroad
English Beat
Sha Na Na
Lynyrd Skynyrd
James Taylor

PS- Is that William Topley I see returning to Taos? Haven’t we suffered enough? Hello, Upper Colonias!

-Michael Mooney
loftholdingswood.blogspot.com

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike –

On July 9, 1971 Grand Funk Railroad played to a crowd of over 55,000 at Shea Stadium in New York, selling out all tickets faster than The Beatles did in 1965. Everyone remembers Beatle mania, but not many will recall that Grand Funk Railroad dominated the LP charts in 1970. They were known as the first popular “people’s hard rock band”, setting the table for later 70’s groups like AC/DC, and fellow Michigan native Ted Nugent’s solo success. 2009 marks the fortieth anniversary of Grand Funk Railroad and they are appearing at Taos Mountain on July 10 as part of a biker festival. Sadly original lead vocalist/guitarist Mark Farner is not in the band, that’s like going to see The Rolling Stones without old big lips Jagger at the mike stand, or having a Tull concert without Ian Anderson - it just ain’t right. The current group of Grand Funksters deserves to make a living; I’d just like to know how Farner lost control of the band’s name (and reputation). Let’s blame their first manager Terry Knight who could’ve cheated the musicians out of their own name for God’s sake. Speaking of God, Farner found Jesus a while back and released some Christian recordings in the nineties. That shouldn’t have surprised any body; way back in 1970 Mark wrote a song called Sin’s a Good Man’s Brother. How he went from being a teenager in Flint, Michigan to shakin’ his ass and singing the devil’s music in front of 180,000 people at the Atlanta Pop Festival in 1969 – and winding up singing for Christ is one of those great journeys that make us all proud to be born in America where anything can happen.

Mike, could you please fill in for the people who do want to go- who the hell are currently in this band? Keeping track of all the roadies and ex- Kiss members who are now plugging in onstage gives me a head ache. I can’t go and be a part of this madness, I’ll stay behind and hope Farner turns up with his own band one day at Camel Rock Casino, and then we can listen to some righteous foot-stompin’ music from Grand Funk Railroad’s real main man.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Michael Mooney wrote:

This is what dares to call itself Grand Funk Railroad:
Don
Mel
Farner fill-ins:
Bogus Kiss member Bruce Kulick on guitar, and
journeyman vocalist Max Carl (who’s actually pretty good, so what’s he doing here?)
In the “Craig Frost” position: Tim Cashion
Why can’t they take a hint from Heaven and Hell??
-Michael Mooney

Part Two

2009-06-19T19:05:00.000-06:00

Out Demons Out!

2009-06-17T15:22:00.003-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM

1969: The Beginning of the End of the Beginning of the End of ...

Michael Mooney wrote:

The “official” year in music goes something like this:

Elvis hits his “comeback” stride with the Memphis Sessions, Led Zep I is released, Beatles play on the roof of Apple Records, Tommy is released, John and Yoko conduct their “bed-in”, Brian Jones dies, Woodstock happens, Abbey Road is released, John gives back his MBE, Altamont happens, Sixties end.

I believe the Sixties ended between April 4 and June 6, 1968. By the following year, the music charts were in transition- awash in sickly nostalgia, half-baked social commentary, frustration, wishful thinking and Creedence. What blended seamlessly in 1967 appears factionalized by ’69. Here’s the Billboard Top 40 singles for 1969:

1. Aquarius—Fifth Dimension
2. Sugar, Sugar—Archies
3. I Can't Get Next To You—Temptations
4. Honky Tonk Women—Rolling Stones
5. Build Me Up Buttercup—Foundations
6. Dizzy—Tommy Roe
7. Hot Fun In The Summertime—Sly and The Family Stone
8. I'll Never Fall In Love Again—Tom Jones
9. Everyday People—Sly and The Family Stone
10. Get Together—Youngbloods
11. One—Three Dog Night
12. Crystal Blue Persuasion—Tommy James and The Shondells
13. Hair—Cowsills
14. Too Busy Thinking About My Baby—Marvin Gaye
15. Love Theme From Romeo And Juliet—Henry Mancini and His Orchestra
16. Crimson And Clover—Tommy James and The Shondells
17. Grazin' In The Grass—Friends Of Distinction
18. Suspicious Minds—Elvis Presley
19. Proud Mary—Creedence Clearwater Revival
20. What Does It Take (To Win Your Love)—Jr. Walker and The All Stars
21. It's Your Thing—Isley Brothers
22. Sweet Caroline—Neil Diamond
23. Jean—Oliver
24. Bad Moon Rising—Creedence Clearwater Revival
25. Get Back—The Beatles
26. In The Year 2525—Zager and Evans
27. Spinning Wheel—Blood, Sweat and Tears
28. Baby, I Love You—Andy Kim
29. Going In Circles—Friends Of Distinction
30. Hurt So Bad—Lettermen
31. Green River—Creedence Clearwater Revival
32. My Cherie Amour—Stevie Wonder
33. Easy To Be Hard—Three Dog Night
34. Baby It's You—Smith
35. In The Ghetto—Elvis Presley
36. A Boy Named Sue- Johnny Cash
37. Baby, Baby Don't Cry- Smokey Robinson and The Miracles
38. Only The Strong Survive- Jerry Butler
39. Time Of The Season- Zombies
40. Wedding Bell Blues- Fifth Dimension

Not bad, considering The Man was out to bust our music, but a helluva lot worse than, say, 1966. There is some well crafted Pop (Fifth Dimension, Friends Of Distinction, Tommy James, Lettermen, Zombies), Rock (Stones, Creedence) and Soul- including the initial stirrings of Funk (Isleys, Jerry Butler, Sly, Temps) mixed in with the Bubblegum (Andy Kim, Tommy Roe, Archies) and Pap (Oliver, Zager & Evans.) Still, it didn’t have to be this way. In the world of The Secret Museum, an alternate playlist of top 40 radio, circa 1969, would consist of something like this (listed alphabetically):

Acid Gallery- Dance ‘Round The Maypole
The Association- Goodbye Columbus
David Axelrod- A Little Girl Lost
Kevin Ayers- Girl On A Swing
Edgar Broughton Band- Out Demons Out
Dr. Strangely Strange- Frosty Mornings
Brigitte Bardot- Je Voudrais Perdre La Mémoire
Captain Beefheart- Old Fart At Play
Bubble Puppy- Hot Smoke & Sassafras
Can- Outside My Door
Dave Clark Five- Maze Of Love
Cowsills- Love American Style
Gal Costa- Meu Nom E Gal
Fleetwood Mac- The Green Manalishi
Free- Woman
Free Design- 2002- A Hit Song
Serge Gainsbourg- 69 Année Érotique
Gandalf- Can You Travel In The Dark Alone
Bobbie Gentry- Seasons Come, Seasons Go
Iron Butterfly- Filled with Fear
The Kinks- King Kong
Love- Always See Your Face
MC5- Ramblin’ Rose
Mott The Hoople- Rock & Roll Queen
The Move- Curly
Nazz- Take The Hand
New Colony Six- Come And Give Your Love To Me
Roger Nichols & The Small Circle Of Friends- The Drifter
The Open Mind- Magic Potion
Os Mutantes- Dia 36
Pink Floyd- Daybreak
The Pretty Things- what’s Good For The Goose
Procol Harum- A Salty Dog
Terry Reid- Superlungs My Supergirl
Catherine Ribeiro- La Solitude
The Stooges- 1969
The Troggs- Evil Woman
Turquoise- Mindless Child Of Motherhood
Caetano Veloso- Irene
Wendy and Bonnie- The Paisley Windowpane

Some of these artists were winding down their careers by 1969; some were just getting started. Half didn’t even release any singles that year. All, however, put out fine LPs in 1969 and are worthy of a listen, at the very least to see how they rate against The Archies. Jim and I shall be revealing the Unheard Music of 1969 on Saturday, June 20 at Taosound Tape & CD. If it’s anything like the last couple of weeks, where we learned a thing or two from local Rock Lifers (including the likes of Clement, Greenberg, MacLean, Reid, Romero, Torres and Yaravitz), this week’s session could be a scorcher.
-Michael Mooney
loftholdingswood.blogspot.com

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

The splintering of Rock Music into numerous sub-categories was in full force by the end of '69. While folk-rock and acid rock had "flowered" between 1965 and 1967, it was 1969 that gave us the first big hit of jazz-rock via Miles Davis, Blood, Sweat & Tears and the Chicago Transit Authority. Blues-rock was almost over, as evidenced by the deaths of Cream, Blind Faith and John Mayall breaking up his Bluesbreakers (for a jazzier sound). The Band came out from behind Dylan's shadow and brought a resurgence of "back to the earth" style traditional/acoustic music that saw everyone from Crosby Steals the Cash to Bonnie & Delaney promoting the rootsier sound of American music. It seems like the musicians at that time were tired of just playing good old pop or rock music. Experimenting with longer song structures and not even wanting a top forty hit were the new requirements for being a successful band. Disaster was coming for those who enjoyed a good tight, three-minute song with memorable hooks and a great melody. The purity of Rock music as the counterculture’s artistic expression, musicians as the "modern day painters" of the late twentieth century was changing. Moneychangers in the temple like David Geffen had corrupted everything down to simply dollars and cents. If all that weren’t enough, the cold wind of Prog arsery would soon be upon us all.

-Jim Webb-webbjuice@comcast.net

Arthur Lee & Love

2009-06-11T18:37:00.004-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

Overt self-promotion:
The Secret Museum will be this week’s presenters at Taosound’s “Psychedelic Saturdaze” beginning at 5:30 on, um, Saturday, June 13 (Taosound: 314 Paseo del Pueblo Norte.) The first hour will feature a selection of Arthur Lee’s finer (and occasionally rarer) moments; the second is devoted to Forever Changes. There will be a Q & A period in between. Jim and I have already prepared the questions.
-Michael Mooney

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike –

What did you think of Michael Stuart-Ware's book Pegasus Carousel, detailing his time as Love's drummer during their "classic" 1966-69 period? The book varied wildly in my opinion between being a fascinating read into Love and the L.A. music scene circa 1967-68, and Ware reliving too many dull moments in his daily routine. He really takes leader Arthur Lee down a few pegs with various stories detailing Arthur's flakiness in canceling big money gigs at the drop of a hat, and his chronic / caustic put downs of other band members and fans. I think Ware was pissed off that everyone looked at Love as only being "Arthur Lee", and that the other guys didn't really matter regardless of how much they contributed to the songs.

Stuart-Ware seems to either think Love leader Arthur Lee’s talent and musical legacy will somehow be diminished by exposing a sarcastic, rude side to his personality or this is just a big payback for all of the drummers’ problems with Arthur. I’m not condoning any arrogant behavior by Arthur toward his band mates or fans, but it is obvious to me the drummer hasn’t gotten over the fact that he didn’t become rich and famous with Love. The drummer feels unappreciated (your kidding!), and thinks it was the collective strength of the musicians in the band that brought them to their peak.

After Love’s masterpiece Forever Changes was released in November1967 the band started to go though numerous personal changes. Drugs, specifically heroin and LSD, have been reported as a contributing major factor in the band becoming dysfunctional. Lee, guitarists John Echols, Ken Forssi and the other main songwriter in the band Bryan MacLean were all using drugs on a regular basis. Lee had an unusual arrangement with their record label Elektra where all royalties went to him, which also created a lot of tension within the band. Stuart-Ware writes about the ongoing financial issues, where they were promised money that never appeared. MacLean left in 1968 and Love was never really the same.

Love never became a big concert draw outside of California. They did some weekend tour dates in the rest of the country, but it was only in their hometown of Los Angeles or in San Francisco that they played regularly. A stable income from concerts would probably have helped the band weather some of their personal changes. Changing band members seemed almost routine for the big L.A. groups in 1967/68. Neil Young quit The Buffalo Springfield, Gene Clark had already left and David Crosby was fired from The Byrds in ’68. The rock scene was so new and continually changing that everyone thought their “next” lineup or group would be even bigger than what they were leaving (ultimately true for Crosby & Young). Big ambition coupled with big egos created a volatile music scene, and Love was no different than the rest of the aspiring groups of that era. Personality conflicts between members, poor management and drugs were three key areas’ that could help break a band apart, and Love had its share of all three.

I’m not knocking Michael Stuart-Ware’s ability as a drummer; I just think he needs to be more realistic about what made Love’s music so unique. It was always the songs that made Love special, and without song writers Arthur Lee and Bryan MacLean the band would never have been heard from. Arthur still wrote some great stuff after Michael left, all Stuart-Ware did was supposedly turn down Neil Diamond to drum on a summer tour of his. I did enjoy the book though, because The Pegasus Carousel gave us some interesting anecdotes about Love, and a musician’s view of the Los Angeles music scene in the mid to late sixties. I’m riding with Arthur though on the question of who was the driving force in creating such timeless and varied music for Love. Arthur wasn’t just an above average musician like the other members in Love; he was also an extremely talented songwriter. What made Arthur Lee great was his ability to meld different strands of folk, rock and rhythm n’ blues together into a new beautiful whole. Love’s enduring musical legacy will always be directly associated with him.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

Definitely a case of sour grapes on Michael Stuart’s part, though I don’t know if the Love story could have ended any differently. While Arthur Lee appears to have been fond of playing mind games on both his audience and band mates, it’s doubtful he was capable of playing the music game under any circumstances. Despite the remarkable beauty of his music, Arthur’s work is too full of idiosyncrasies to ever appeal to the mainstream. Still, Forever Changes transcends its time and place, and remains a benchmark Rock recording.
-Michael Mooney

mooney@taosnet.com

_______________________________________________________________
RAW POWER AT TAOSOUND:
Too bad! You missed it. About a dozen people showed up last Saturday for Peter Greenberg’s DJ set at Taosound, a whirlwind blitz of the finest 60s Garage Punk. Peter had the joint rocking with two hours of classic cuts (Seeds, ? & The Mysterians, Trashmen, Rivieras, Elevators, Moving Sidewalks, Sonics, Remains) along with mega-obscurities (Jolly Green Giants, Alarm Clocks, Bad Seeds), all prime examples of America’s Greatest Art Form. Those in attendance got a breathtaking refresher course in Rock 101: Greenberg is the Professor of the Blazing Decks; he’s the North Shore Shaman- dropping 7-inch Sound Neutrons over Paseo Norte every 2 minutes, 5 seconds in an awesome display of turntable pandemonium.
-Michael Mooney

Public Service Announcement

2009-06-10T19:10:00.003-06:00

Lucinda Williams/ The Flatlanders

2009-06-08T19:36:00.004-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM

June 1st / Paolo Soleri Amphitheater, Santa Fe

Jim Webb wrote:

The highlight of the evening was a superb seventeen song set uncorked by Texas natives Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock (a.k.a., The Flatlanders). There must be something in the water for Lubbock to have so many great singer/songwriters hail from that “flat” part of West Texas. Their first album together was recorded in 1972, and then it only took them another thirty years to get the follow up release finished. In between all three established solo careers, and tonight was one of their infrequent concert appearances.

Joe Ely, who is known as The Lord of The Highway due to his never ending tour schedule, is the real deal in working class authenticity. Jimmie Dale Gilmore sounds just like - no one, except Jimmie Dale Gilmore. His high, lonesome tenor I’m sure made any coyotes wandering down nearby arroyos feel at home. Butch Hancock was just in Santa Fe this past February for a solo show at Gig Performance Space, and you can also occasionally hear him when he accompanies over night raft trips on the Rio Grande River at Big Bend National Park in Texas. Together they take turns on lead vocals, and asking who the best songwriter is among them is like trying to pick mint chocolate chip ice cream over double chocolate chunk or rocky road.

The only knock on their solo careers is that each studio release always has two or three really good tunes, but the rest tend to be just average. What do they sing about? Their styles as writers are somewhat similar in that they all have a sharp eye for detail in making people’s daily lives and their relationships more important than anything else. They are a throw back to the classic country writers of the forties, fifties and sixties. Their song writing bloodlines run from Hank Williams to Willie Nelson, and special reverence is reserved for their departed guru - the legendary Townes Van Zandt. So far this was easily not only the set of the year, but as good an American roots music set I’ve heard since I saw Emmylou Harris in 2005. Being fifteen feet from their three mike stands didn’t hurt (no brag, just fact).

After playing tunes from each of The Flatlanders four cd’s Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s classic song Dallas was turned into a honky tonk rave-up and it ended their one hour set on a triumphant high note. They encored with Van Zandt’s White Freight – Liner and the nearly full Paolo Soleri crowd roared in appreciation.

Lucinda Williams and her band Buick 6 came out about twenty minutes later and went right to work playing selections from throughout her thirty year catalogue of music. She is one of our most gifted songwriters, as well as a powerful singer. The only complaint I have in her first forty minutes was that it was loaded with her more introspective material. Coming right after The Flatlanders spirited set, it made these songs seem even quieter than usual.

There are two different sides to Lucinda’s writing, the smoldering poet, and her razor sharp rockers that could musically and lyrically slash anyone apart who’s done her wrong. I prefer her hard stuff myself, but we got a large helping of both last night. Drunken Angel, Concrete and Barbed Wire, Metal Firecracker and Joy came from her 1998 Car Wheels on a Gravel Road release. Blue, Essence and Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings were also played during her hour and twenty minute performance. Her most recent cd Little Honey gave us the up tempo Honey Bee, Real Love and a surprising set closing rendition of AC/DC’S – It’s a Long Way To The Top.

A solid show, but a little bit of a spark seemed to be lacking at times. She is a better songwriter than any of The Flatlanders (and that’s saying quite a lot), but their stage presence and overall exuberance gave them the upper hand in my opinion. I think Lucinda Williams only problem last night was that she got knocked off stride by a West Texas storm that blew in from Lubbock, and never really recovered.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive

2009-06-01T20:23:00.001-06:00

THE SECRET MUSEUM:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike –

I have found myself again prowling around the back catalogue of famous bands, listening to their albums that didn’t have the big hit. A couple of these tracks got some airplay, but this was the last decent BTO sandwich before it all went to hell.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive- Head On (1975)

I have to confess that in the 1970’s I was not a BTO fanatic. Never saw them live and didn’t own an album of theirs. You basically didn’t have to buy their stuff because it seemed like it was played nonstop on the radio. My only credentials would be that whenever they did come on the radio, I would instinctively reach for the volume dial to turn it up. Let it Ride, Takin’ Care of Business, You Ain’t Seen Nuthin’ Yet, and Roll On Down The Highway are still classic road rock tunes for driving around.

1975 had a glut of guitar bands from Foghat and Ted Nugent to Aerosmith, Blue Oyster Cult and ZZ Top blasting away with stacks of amps all pointed at our heads. Bachman –Turner Overdrive had been selling out arenas since 1973 and was starting to be looked at as yesterday’s hard rock heroes. Selling tickets to their concerts wasn’t a problem, but leader Randy Bachman was getting a little bored with their never changing two guitars, bass and drums sound. Head On still has the wall-to-wall heavy sound in rockers like Find Out About Love, and Wild Spirit, but also slipped in to the mix is an early proto type Power Ballad titled Woncha Take Me For a While. You know that style from the eighties - when long haired, emotionally challenged singers break down and pledge their undying love to the women in their life for the first time publicly, with a slow crescendo of guitars building in the background to a frenzied peak. Fred Turner does his best on making that vocal believable, but Randy still wasn’t done tinkering under the hood. Lookin’ Out For #1 was a full fledged cocktail jazz workout that you could expect to hear at any nondescript Holiday Inn lounge buried in the Midwest. The song does have a great melodic guitar solo from Randy that would have made jazz guitarists Joe Pass or Jim Hall proud. Bachman had a brief moment of clarity and knew that the end was coming somewhere up ahead and wasn’t quite sure what to do. He just wanted to change the formula a little bit, it was time to put down the beer and maybe have a glass of Chablis for a change. Fred Turner basically told him to f**k off and that he ain’t no wine sipper, he was going to ride their classic rig as long as he could. Randy left in 1977 after the Freeways release, he had put too much time and energy into building BTO to want to be around when it finally ran out of gas. Fred parked it in 1980 and the legal battles between Randy and his two younger brothers that wanted to continue using the name started. It has been claimed that Head On was mostly leftovers from the two previous albums. That sounds about right to my ears because a lot of older BTO riffs seem recycled on tracks like Average Man and Down To the Line. If you are tired of your BTO Greatest Hits cd, this wouldn’t be a bad pickup. Even with a couple of softies, it mostly rocks with solid riffs and production.

Music critics, non-fans, and mellow James Taylorites from the seventies all claimed that a hundred apes locked in a room with musical instruments for a hundred years would ultimately sound just like BTO. Why do I like an occasional blast of Bachman –Turner Overdrive? It’s simple really, sometimes I just feel like an ape.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

I’m a fan. Randy Bachman is responsible for some of Rock’s most-enduring riffs. He’s a totally underrated guitarist (just ask Neil Young.) Tuneful and Jazzy, he can also rock with the best and make it seems effortless.

I first caught BTO during their initial arena tour in 1974, opening for Black Oak Arkansas and Foghat (though it might have been Ten Years After and the J. Geils Band- ...pity youth, etc.) at the Spectrum (aka Rectum) in Philly. Bachman-Turner Overdrive II had just been released, and Let It Ride was getting lots of airplay (I don’t think Taking Care Of Business had hit yet- it would be massive later that summer.) BTO held their own against the big guns: Fred Turner was no Peter Wolf or Jim Dandy, and Randy wasn’t flashy like Alvin Lee (or Rod Price for that matter), but their workmanlike approach won over the typically fickle Philadelphia audience.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive II was a big record in Philadelphia that year, blasting from every suburban kid’s Pioneer car speakers- via 8-track tape of course- and no sooner had it begun its descent from the charts when Not Fragile appeared, cementing Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s reputation as the working man’s Rock Machine. Spearheaded by Roll On Down The Highway and You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet (check out John Otway’s version from 1982, flipside to his take on Roy Orbison’s In Dreams- both songs are must-hears), this was BTO’s biggest album, and the perfect soundtrack to working class keg parties circa autumn, 1974.

I was able to study Randy Bachman’s guitar technique up close when BTO reconvened for a new LP (self-titled, 1984) and club tour in 1985. The Music Machine in LA was the perfect venue for the group. It had a good PA system, and was neither too big that the sound would get lost, nor too small to constrain the volume. BTO delivered. This wasn’t just a greatest hits machine playing by numbers. Randy had the fire that night, and seemed almost surprised by his own playing. Not a lot of movement on stage (they kind of bopped in place- like Rush Limbaugh- and that didn’t stop the stage floor from sagging a little; these were some seriously large guys), but BTO rocked furiously. In a sense, they reminded me of Television- just stand there and let it burn. It was a stunning show.

Randy Bachman’s touring with Burton Cummings this summer (Canada only), but there’s talk of a Bachman-Turner reunion (literally Randy and Fred so far.) If they manage to appear at a Casino showroom, State Fair or biker rally within 3 hours of Taos/Santa Fe, The Secret Museum will be there.

-Michael Mooney
loftholdingswood.blogspot.com

More Monochrome Set; Jorge Reyes

2009-05-21T15:18:00.006-06:00

THURSDAY, MAY 21, 2009

More Monochrome Set; Jorge Reyes
The Secret Museum
By Michael Mooney and Jim Webb

THE MONOCHROME SET

Back during their heyday in the early 1980s, I recall reading in the NME or Melody Maker a review of Eligible Bachelors, the third LP from the Monochrome Set, in which the critic stated that the music was suitable listening for housewives only: hummable tunes, inoffensive content, perfect for doing the washing up or hanging clothes on the line; all others beware. Apart from that blatant bit of sexism, it’s clear that the reviewer, typical of most writing during the waning days of both of these once-great English music weeklies, barely gave the record a single spin. Eligible Bachelors is a great album, as are the Monochrome Set’s first two, Strange Boutique and Love Zombies. The Monochrome Set is responsible for some of the finest subversive music of the late 20th Century, similar in that sense to the magnificent Microdisney, but minus the inferiority complex (and wearing a smaller smirk.)

Self-reflexive beyond compare- sample song titles: The Monochrome Set (I Presume), B-I-D Spells Bid (Bid’s the singer), The Weird, Wild And Wonderful World Of Tony Potts (the group’s resident filmmaker/visual consultant), and Lester Leaps In (showcase for guitarist Lester Square)- The Monochrome Set were also capable of withering satire (Whoops! What A Palaver, Silicon Carne, Alphaville, I’ll Scry Instead), pointed social commentary (Apocalypso, The Jet Set Junta, which may have predicted the Falklands/Malvinas Conflict by some six months), a few rather brazen observations of a physiological nature (Fat Fun, The Mating Game, The Lighter Side Of Dating, On The Thirteenth Day, Love Goes Down The Drain), outright absurdity (10 Don’ts For Honeymooners, Ein Symphonie Des Grauns, Martians Go Home), occasionally all four in the same song (Ice Les Enfants), and rarely, none of the above (the heartbreaking Goodbye Joe.) Bid’s a one-of-a-kind vocalist, though hardly an acquired taste; Lester is the unsung guitar hero of the post-punk era. The Monochrome Set sound like no one else, and they’re better than every single English group of the last twenty-five years.

Recommended listening:
Strange Boutique (1980)
Love Zombies (1980)
Eligible Bachelors (1982)
Colour Transmission (1992) combines Strange Boutique with Love Zombies in one convenient set.
Volume, Contrast, Brilliance… Sessions & Singles (1983)

There are 6 or 7 further LPs of original material (all good), beginning with 1985’s The Lost Weekend, plus tons of compilations.
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

JORGE REYES - The Shaman Has Left the Building

In 1990 I bought my first Jorge Reyes CD on the recommendation of a record store owner in Silver Spring, MD. I have purchased, played, and ultimately sold literally thousands of discs since then, but have never gotten rid of any Jorge Reyes. All of his releases are difficult to locate, having been released on various small Mexican and European record labels; some of them I’m still searching for.

Jorge Reyes was born in 1952 in Michoacan, Mexico and died of a heart attack in February 2009 while in a recording studio. His life ended abruptly, but I’m not surprised that he was making music right up to his final breath. He started off playing in various bands during the late 60’s, but became established as the leader of Chac Mol, a progressive Mexican rock band that released five albums in the seventies. After a period of traveling and recharging his creative batteries Jorge decided around 1983 to concentrate on his love of pre-hispanic music. He started to accumulate and play on a large variety of clay pots, flutes, and other native instruments that The Mayans have used for centuries. What made his music so unique was that he combined the indigenous tribal sounds of Michoacan, with state of the art recording technology. Native hand percussion with chanted vocals from local villagers was blended with electric keyboards and synthesizers to create a new modern sound world. His music was mostly instrumental, and had a spiritual or trance like quality to it. Spiritual in his need to reconnect with the Ancient, and he frequently based releases on Mayan themes such as The Jaguar, Dreams or Death. It is hard to categorize his work. New Age music has no soul, so where does that leave the most soulful of experimental electronic artists? Tribal /ambient is a phrase that has been used most recently in describing his work. Meditative at times, longer pieces use repetition as a way of inducing a hypnotic like state in the mind. His music is not for everyone; in fact it can be unsettling in its celebration of obscure rituals and tribal power. There is a fine line between quality trance work, and something bereft of ideas that is simply boring. Jorge was never dull for me, but I like long instrumental passages in music. If you have enjoyed some of Brian Eno’s or Steve Roach’s work he is a kindred spirit but in a heavier, darker vein. This is not an Enya/Yanni / JohnTesh, Sunday morning with coffee artist; Reyes’ music comes alive after dark when the animals and reptiles leave their daytime hiding places.

So sadly, another man done gone. One of the beauties of any musicians recorded legacy is that you can go back and take the same aural journey that he created and was once on. Thank you Jorge for your music, and wherever you’ve gone, it just got a little more interesting.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark, Killing Joke; The Dead

2009-05-12T21:21:00.003-06:00

The Secret Museum

By Jim Webb

After briefly raving about The Monochrome Set last time, I’ve continued my early 80’s U.K. listening revival with Killing Joke and Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark. Both bands were favorites of the legendary Brit radio DJ John Peel, and were recorded for his program many times between 1979 and 1983.

O.M.D. was the anti-punk band of the late seventies who, with Gary Numan and The Human League, spearheaded the synth-pop movement. Melding pop songwriting hooks and commercial-sounding synthesizers, with a simple drum machine keeping an upbeat rhythm, O.M.D. were the next evolutionary step to such 70s bands as Kraftwerk, Roxy Music and Sparks. They had a handful of Top Twenty British singles, including Enola Gay and Electricity, before running out of steam in the late 80’s. Their closest reference is Soft Cell, though minus Marc Almond’s implied decadence. If you absolutely hated Tainted Love, then take a pass on O.M.D., but if, like me, you think Tainted Love was a good pop song that unfortunately got played to death, you’ll probably like Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark.

Killing Joke are much simpler and direct than Orchestral Maneuvers. They’re a straightforward guitar/ punk band that didn’t vary (at first) their unusually dense sound too much. By the late eighties and into the nineties, however, they started becoming a little too bombastic for my taste. Keep in mind 1980 Killing Joke is definitely “of the period”, meaning three-chord guitar nastiness that is satisfying in its striped down assault. If there’s a knock to be leveled against them it’s that now their late 70’s/ early 80’s output sounds a little dated. Not much melody in the songs, but hell – you could say the same about a lot of groups of the era.

Whomever John Peel promoted on his program was guaranteed to provide interesting listening. Peel’s been gone a few years now, and is still greatly missed. It would take a lifetime to catch up with all his recorded BBC sessions. His tastes were wide-ranging and impeccable.

The Dead- Pepsi Center, Denver
May 7, 2009

Mike-

Good show, mind-bending drive from Santa Fe to Denver (as usual.) I don't know if any group is "worth" driving twelve hours roundtrip, but in the end I couldn't miss it. The Dead (minus Grateful, because it ain’t the same without Jerry, man) now has Gov't Mule/ Allman Bros. guitarist, vocalist Warren Haynes on board for this tour. Warren thankfully doesn't try to mimic every guitar line Garcia created, but follows him respectfully at times, while adding his own signature sound. A nearly full house at The Pepsi Center was pumped to the max for the first Dead tour since 2004. Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzman aren’t just still alive and well, but seemed revitalized after their five-year hiatus, and played for two and a half hours. The first set featured classics like Casey Jones, Easy Wind, and Loser, while the second set opened with an acoustic Deep Elem Blues, then Me And My Uncle, before Phil sang Whiskey In The Jar. For thirty-plus years now I have never been able to get into the drums/space portion of the show, where the drummers bang around for ten minutes before the full band joins in on a freeform jam that goes nowhere. This gig was no exception. A nice ending with Not Fade Away and an encore of Ripple. Only The Dead could range from a traditional Irish tune to Buddy Holly in one evening and somehow make it work. The World's Greatest Bar Band is back, and Jerry's kids are still happily soaking it all in.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Mick Jones' hair; The Monochrome Set; Music Television

2009-04-27T17:40:00.006-06:00

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Mike -

Buried in a feature on Mott The Hoople in the latest Mojo, there’s an accompanying picture of Hoople fan Mick Jones at about 18 years old with his hair down to his arse. No one in the history of rock music has ever lost more hair between the ages of twenty and fifty-five than Jonesy. I think it says quite a lot about how bad he wanted to "make it" in a rock group that he would chop off his beloved Samsonesque locks in order to be accepted as a true punk rocker. Does the incriminating photo now and forever disqualify him from the Punk Rock Hall of Fame and labeled a poseur from this day forward? Or is he just Jonesy being Jonesy, and the tired old game of “I was a punk before you were a punk" means nothing, to be sadly buried alongside John Mellor.

About three weeks ago I was overcome with a sudden craving for The Monochrome Set and realized I currently had none. After re-procuring their first two LPs, I’ve come to the conclusion they are the second most underrated band (after Doll by Doll) circa late 70s/ early 80s UK. They are smart, popish, fun, unpredictable and top it all with tight, razor sharp guitar playing. They are everything Talking Heads wanted to be but couldn’t pull off. Dave Byrne took his exalted Heads down a predictable radio friendly dead-end that ultimately led to everyone in the group arguing over money and other "high-brow" interests. Meanwhile, The Monochrome Set kicked out some classic three minute tunes that never got the time of day from our side of the pond. It’s odd that Byrne became revered as one of the Kings of "Pop Art", while others far more worthy are long forgotten.
-Jim Webb

Jim-

There are a number of great bands from the 70s/80s cusp worthy of another look, including the Monochrome Set’s Cherry Red label mates Five Or Six and The Nightingales (and, obviously, old-timer Kevin Coyne.) I’ll ready a full-blown appraisal of the Monochrome Set for the coming weeks. Meanwhile, newcomers are directed to Volume, Contrast, Brilliance, an excellent starting point.

Talking Heads: I found them enjoyable as a trio opening for the Ramones at Max’s in ’76, but, apart from the first album and the song about keeping the baby awake, they did nothing for me. I much prefer Tom Tom Club.

To Mick Jones’ credit, he had quite the Paul Stanley poodle-do going on by the time of Give ‘Em Enough Rope. But you’re right- Jonesy lost his pelt in a hurry. Maybe we didn’t notice because of all the stupid hats he wore during the B.A.D. years.
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

I Don’t Want My MTV

Once upon a time music videos were on the cutting edge of new technology, and the Big Corporate Record Labels spent more money on a song’s video production costs than the actual recording studio budget. We all remember what the result of that new infatuation brought us: the vacuum of the 1980’s music scene. MTV wound up in bed with the big labels, and popular music became dominated by Duran Duran, Kajagoogoo, Culture Club, A Flock of Seagulls, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and numerous other haircut bands. These groups had absolutely nothing to say, though they all looked great on the tube, where their videos were played every hour in heavy rotation.

The only purpose of the major record label is to make money. The “biz” consistently attempts to either create new profitable fads, or jumps on existing trends (once they think they’ve got them figured out) in order to squeeze out maximum profits. In the late fifties/ early sixties we already saw the concept at work, when the likes of Fabian, Connie Francis, Pat Boone, Frankie, Annette, Bobby Vee and other bland, well-groomed boys and girls dominated the top 40 airwaves. The Beatles were to soon change all that, and their contrasting sound shows how truly terrible the pop music scene had become.

The British Invasion cleared the deck of all those “nice” pop stars and turned them into has-beens overnight. It took the Brits to remind us that Little Richard, Gene Vincent, and Chuck Berry were still the real deal, not Dick Clark’s Bandstand kiddie sound. The Monkees were another example of an executive boardroom creation, though the musicians involved should at least be credited for producing some pretty decent stuff for a change. Later in the 60s that same marketing strategy later turned into huge money by way of The Archies and various bubblegum fakeries. The seventies had its share of prefabricated nonsense, including David Cassidy and the Bay City Rollers. The only good thing to come out of such corporate manipulation is the inevitable backlash. From 1974 to 1976 great bands like The Ramones, Television, Sex Pistols, The Clash, Graham Parker, even early Springsteen, were the antidote to the tired sounding superstar groups and instant pop stars that had poisoned the living connection between musicians and supporters.

Once the initial excitement of a 24-hour music channel wore off, MTV offered very little of substance, apart from the odd weekend and/or late-night specialty program (120 Minutes, Yo! MTV Raps, and Headbanger’s Ball), plus a few clever art-inclined videos during the early nineties (coinciding with the rise and plummet of Nirvana.) Otherwise, it’s all reality programming, TRL, the occasional Hippity Hop vid , and the culmination of all that Corporate America has learned in creating profits from packaging: Spice Girls, ‘N Sync, Backstreet Boys, O-Town, Jonas Brothers and myriad disposable dolts (Disney’s Hannah Montana is just the latest music/TV fabrication to funnel the kids money into the Corporate bank account.)

In 2009, we are now close to the same kind of bottoming out that paved the way for The Beatles 45 years ago. MTV’s Top Twenty this week includes the same old rhyme patterns (that always sound to me like grade school kids jumping rope), with the usual dozen dancers in the background doing the same clichéd moves Michael Jackson used for Thriller. It’s frustrating to see a great idea- 24-hour music television- reduced to a promotional tool for such dull and predictable product. And whether or not it’s MTV’s or the Corporation’s fault, it seems that very few people these days are interested in learning to become a good musician or songwriter- they just want to be rich and famous. It’s too much of an effort to learn how to play an instrument. Practicing eight hours daily to perfect a skill seems ridiculous in an era when you can simply follow the Paris/ Lindsay example (just make sure you hire a great press agent.) Do I expect another earth-shattering miracle like 1964? No, but considering the hollow celebrity sweepstakes the masses have been fixated on recently, a year-zero musical upheaval is officially overdue.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Forty years on from Woodstock: U2’s 2009 Summer of Greed

2009-04-14T17:36:00.004-06:00

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb

"It's a tough life being a pop star. You know, at the end of the day when you've paid all the bills and put the kids through college and that, you know, there's only enough left for a small island off the South Pacific."-The drummer from U2

Rock concerts have evolved, from 1969’s epic gathering in upstate New York of like- minded souls with similar musical and lifestyle choices, to being nothing but a money producing ATM machine for the celebrities onstage. Former London School of Economics student Mick Jagger and his debauched cronies invented the rock concert as modern-day train robbery, but Bono’s U2 have perfected the “Art” of hauling cash out of your pocket and putting it into theirs.

Has anyone noticed that U2’s last half dozen CDs all sound the same? They’ve become just another band that have creatively run out of gas, but still charge premium prices at the pump (turnstiles.) Bono feels so guilty about becoming a mega million “brand” name, like Exxon or Budweiser, that he parades around the world in his private jet asking for debt forgiveness to the poor. I’m not against giving anybody an extra hand up, but it’s laughable that Bono doesn’t think we can see through his charade. His wish is to be credited as a contemporary Robin Hood- nice idea, except that he is the Rich, and became so by overcharging for tickets, t-shirts and recordings. I wish the American concert-going public would send him a message by picking one of his shows this summer to boycott. We shouldn’t put up with bands continuing to gouge us, particularly during these challenging economic times. They don’t care about you, and never did. It’s always been about building name recognition, then reaping the rewards.

U2 certainly aren’t the only ones over the last forty years who have jumped on the Rock and Roll gravy train and milked it for all it’s worth, though it is beyond absurd that they continually try and package themselves as different from the rest every time out, committed to the common man. I have more respect for Jagger, because he’s at least upfront about running a for-profit circus. Bono wants the same customers and their cash, while attempting to make it seem like he really cares about the elephants in the show. If there is nothing left culturally from the music scene in 1969, we can at least respect the memory of what could once be had. I know things will never go back to how they “used to be”; we’re all choking now on what happened once music got taken over by Big Business. In the late seventies, before they got plowed under as U2’S ‘biggest influence’, The Clash sang: “They think its funny, turning rebellion into money.” Joe Strummer was more prophetic than he could have imagined.

In 2009, it’s fitting to remember what was written about the original gathering of tribes forty years ago:

We are stardust, we are golden
We are caught in the devil’s bargain
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden

Instead of going to a U2 show this summer, call 1-800-FLOWERS and have a nice bouquet sent to the old Yasgur’s farm, c/o General Delivery, Bethel, New York.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Roger Miller; Acid Mothers Temple

2009-04-08T05:44:00.004-06:00

The Secret Museum

Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

"If I had my life to live over I wouldn’t have time."

Forget Chug-A-Lug, bobbies on bicycles, and maple surple. Despite winning eleven Grammies during one two-year period (1964-66), plus a 1985 Tony Award for Best Musical (Big River), Roger Miller will be remembered, like Ray Stevens and Jerry Reed, as a quirky Pop-Country singer with a penchant for novelty songs. This description isn’t fair to Roger (or to Ray and Jerry, for that matter), because Roger Miller was a brilliant tunesmith and a master of the lyrical device, including literary consonance, blank verse, personification, simile, exposition, onomatopoeia, metaphor, alliteration, and irony. Also, he’s not funny; he just appears to be. For proof, perhaps we should have a look at that maple surple:

Well here I sit high, gettin' ideas
Ain't nothing but a fool would live like this
Out all night and runnin' wild
Woman sittin' home with a month old child

Just settin' around drinkin' with the rest of the guys
Six rounds we bought, and I bought five
Spent the groceries and half the rent
I lack fourteen dollars, havin' twenty seven cents

They say roses are red and violets are purple
Sugar's sweet and so's maple surple
And I'm the seventh out of seven sons
My pappy was a pistol  I'm a son of a gun

Dang me, dang me
They oughta take a rope and hang me
High from the highest tree
Woman would you weep for me?

Not wildly hilarious, is it? And that’s what makes Roger Miller brilliant- appearances are always deceiving. Take this finely honed declaration of resentment:

I hear tell you’re doin’ well,
Good things have come to you.
I wish I had your happiness
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do

They tell me you’re runnin’ free,
Your days are never blue.
I wish I had your good-luck charm
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do.

Yeah, I see you’re goin’ down the street in your big Cadillac,
You got girls in the front, you got girls in the back,
Yeah, way in back, you got money in a sack,
Both hands on the wheel and your shoulders reared back

I hear tell you’re doin’ well,
Good things have come to you.
I wish I had your happiness
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do.

Hardly a novelty song (who hasn’t felt that very same way at one time or another?), Do Wacka Do is as pure an expression of envy as anything by Rock misanthropes like Steely Dan, Micodisney, or Elvis Costello. Delivered as a casual, albeit gigantic, “fuck you”, it sounds, in true Punk Rock style, like it was recorded while he wrote it.

Much has been made of Roger’s predilection for (and colossal consumption of) amphetamines, and their influence on his lyrics. My Uncle Used To Love Me But She Died reached #58 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1966:

Who’ll bid me quarter, thirty cents for a ring of keys
Three sixty-five for a dollar bill of groceries
I’ll have me a car of my own someday but ’til then I need a ride
My uncle used to love me but she died

Hamburger, cup of coffee, lettuce and tomato
Two times a dime to see a man kiss the alligator
One more time around free on the Ferris wheel ride
My uncle used to love me but she died

Apples are for eatin’ and snakes are for hissin’
I’ve heard about huggin’ and I’ve heard about kissin’
I read about it free in a fifty cent illustrated guide
My uncle used to love me but she died

Well, my uncle used to love but she died
A chicken ain’t chicken ’til he’s lickin’ good fried
Keep on the sunny side
My uncle used to live me but she died

Are these lines merely the confused musings of a Hollywood/ Nashville pill head, or instead a levelheaded meditation on attempting to remain positive in a world fixated on money, power and sex? Miller’s songs are meant to be heard, not read, but the devil’s in the details. “I read about it free in a fifty cent illustrated guide”- this isn’t your run of the mill disposable lyrical pap. Further examples are found in Roger’s best-known hit:

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination: Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out suits and shoes,
I don't pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain't locked
When no one's around.

“…I ain’t got no cigarettes”, “I’m a man of means by no means”, “Third boxcar”, “...short but not too big around “, and “every lock that ain’t locked when no one’s around.” Show me another song that is loaded with such vivid narrative imagery. Okay, I’ll show you two:

Old friends, pitching pennies in the park
Playing croquet 'til it's dark, old friends
Old friends, swapping lies of lives and loves
Pitching popcorn to the doves, old friends

Old friends, looking up to watch a bird
Holding arms to climb a curb, old friends
Old friends, lord when all my work is done
Bless my life and grant me one old friend
At least one old friend

and

Two broken hearts
Lonely looking like houses where nobody lives
Two people each having so much pride inside
Neither side forgives

The angry words spoken in haste,
Such a waste of two lives,
It's my belief
Pride is the chief cause in the decline
In the number of husbands and wives

A woman and a man, a man and a woman;
Some can and some can't
And some can't.

Finally, Roger lists what you can and cannot do. Words of wisdom:

You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd
You can't take a shower in a parakeet cage
You can't go swimmin' in a baseball pool
You can't change film with a kid on your back
You can't drive around with a tiger in your car
You can't go fishin' in a watermelon patch

But you can be happy if you've a mind to
All you gotta do is put your mind to it
Knuckle down, buckle down
Do it.

-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Acid Mothers Temple: 21st Century Schizoid Band

Mike –

Japan’s Acid Mothers Temple is touring the States this April/ May in support of three new releases. Having seen them play in 2004 at the Festival Musique Actuelle in Victoriaville, Quebec, I thought I would try and describe what is about to be unleashed on my fellow Americans.

The group is the brainchild of lead guitarist Kawabata Makoto and was formed in 1995/96 with the purpose of becoming a “soul collective” with the common goal of creating music without boundaries. Numerous releases have followed. Makoto claims that he has personally not created anything, referring to himself as a radio receiver for the cosmos. Japan in 1995 experienced the continued stagnation of their economy. The country reeled from the Aum Shinrikyo Toyko subway sarin gas attacks that killed thirteen people. Creating a mystical, communal, psychedelic rock band during that time was an act of faith by Makoto. The official name of the group at the time was the Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O. The band is unabashed lovers of Krautrock, Hard Rock, Prog Rock, and Space Rock. At any time one can detect these influences, as well as a little Frank Zappa and some Japanese musical (Minyo) and cultural (Godzilla) references for good measure. Their CD titles might do a better job of explaining what you are in store for::

Troubadours From Another Heavenly World (1997)
Pataphysical Freak Out (2000)
Electric Heavyland (2002)
Minstrel in the Galaxy (2004)
The Day Before the Sky Fell (2006)
The Soul of a Mountain Wolf (2007)

Another release, Starless and Bible Black Sabbath, has a gloriously heavy bass line that churns throughout the 39-minute opening track. They’ve also recorded a version of Terry Riley’s minimalist classic In C.

Personnel changes have been constant factor throughout Acid Mothers Temple’s history. Cotton Casino is credited on early releases as contributing beer, cigarettes and vocals; she has since departed for a solo career. As the band changed, so did its name. Acid Mother Gong was a brief incarnation with Daevid Allen, and they once toured as Acid Gurus Temple with Mani Neumeier of Krautrock legends Guru Guru. Other names have been used, the most recent line up operating as Acid Mothers Temple & the Cosmic Inferno.

At Victoriaville, mellow washes of ambient guitar prefaced furious squalls of pure molten riffage, morphing into an impenetrable heavy wall of sound. In 2009, concert goers may get a Hawkwind-at-the-Roundhouse-1970 style Space Rock extravaganza, but when the music begins to sound like you are descending a deep tunnel on the Express Train to Gehenna, that’s not one too many Michelobs; you’ve just been caught in Sorcerer Makoto’s web of sound.

If you decide you want to go all in and purchase the entire Acid Mothers Temple catalogue, there are around fifty CDs to acquire (that’s BEFORE you get to Makoto’s 25+ solo/side projects.). Granted, long guitar jam/trance freak-outs are not for everyone. But if you want to indulge in the occasional psychedelic Japanese sea chantey or recreate the psilocybin experience without the mushrooms, this is your band. You can see them rampaging around the U.S. in April and May, but if you go, take my advice and be prepared for anything. Kawabata & band can pull you out of your comfort zone within the first eight bars of music, and on a great night will escort you to the other side of the sky.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Rock & Roll Cities (#2 in an occasional series)

2009-03-26T18:25:00.006-06:00

Colorado City, AZ

By Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Colorado City: population 4807 with 71.8% under the age of 25 and 65% living below the poverty line. Anorexic local former prophet Warren Jeffs hates us heathens, especially Little Richard and Tina Turner. This town needs some Rock And Roll. Suggested chronological mix to get the kids started:

Utah Mormon Blues- Phil Pavey
Rip It Up- Little Richard
Kissin’ Cousins- Elvis Presley
You Don’t Own Me- Lesley Gore
A Change Is Gonna Come- Sam Cooke
Don’t Look Back- The Remains
Break On Through- The Doors
Shape Of Things To Come- Max Frost and The Troopers
Tears Of Rage- The Band
You Could Be Born Again- The Free Design
Cease To Exist- Charles Manson
Big Sky- The Kinks
We’re Not Gonna Take It- The Who
What Goes On- Velvet Underground
Liar- Argent
Ave Lucifer- Os Mutantes
(Don't Worry) If There's A Hell Below We're All Going To Go- Curtis Mayfield
My God- Jethro Tull
Death May Be Your Santa Claus- Mott The Hoople
One Tin Soldier- Coven
Zion Higher- Burning Spear
Godbluff- Van der Graaf Generator
(I’m) Stranded- The Saints
Amazing Grace- Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers
Crazy Horses- Alex Harvey
Oh Bondage! Up Yours- X-Ray Spex
Pinhead- The Ramones
Family Album- David Allan Coe
Welfare Mothers- Neil Young & Crazy Horse
All We Ever Look For- Kate Bush
Fanatics- Minutemen
Rise Above- Black Flag
Religion- Motorhead
Kids Don’t Follow- The Replacements
Girls Just Want To Have Fun- Cyndi Lauper
The Warrior- Scandal
Better Be Good To Me- Tina Turner
Hello Cruel World- The Mekons
Dear God- XTC
Kidnap Yourself- He Said
Roam- The B-52’s
Throwing Back The Apple- Pale Saints
Double Dare Ya- Bikini Kill
Freedom- Tegan and Sara
Cast Me Out In My Hometown- Cathal Coughlan
I Get Out- Lauryn Hill
Beautiful- Christina Aguillera
Mr. Marx’s Table- Wire
Cult- Slayer
The W.A.N.D.- Flaming Lips
Prophet- Carbon/Silicon
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Mike-
I would like to add a few tracks to your music compilation for the members of the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints religious organization. These three songs are specifically dedicated to the imprisoned sociopath, fornicator and false prophet Warren Jeffs. My hope is that the Warden at the Purgatory Correctional Facility will read this and find a way to pump these tunes into Warren's cell 24 hours a day. Listening to the lyrics of these songs repeatedly might help Jeffs, the greatest spiritual con artist of the last hundred years, to realize the damage he’s caused to untold thousands of people, particularly women. If nothing else, constant exposure to Yoko Ono, Helen Reddy and The A's would be a pretty severe punishment. It could even be considered torture.

I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back and pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again

You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my loving arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo
With a long, long way to go
Until I make my brother understand

Oh, yes, I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to
I can face anything
I am strong
I am invincible
I am woman

Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong

When a man lays his cards on the table
Trying to make a name
Looking for a miracle
Looking for something that he does not know
Walking the streets and there's nowhere to go
When a man's got to fight to keep on dreaming
And the whole world seems like it's plotted and see man laying odds
if he's gonna lose
He's gonna need the strength that comes from you

When a man's got to his bottom dollar
And his foolish pride fills with more than he can swallow
When it seems his shame is more than he can bare
And his hopes and dreams are fading into thin air
When a man finds he struggles in vain
And he's holding a losing hand playing a losing game
And he finds he's got his back to the wall
He needs you there to pick him up should he fall

You've got to love him
Squeeze him
Hold him in your arms, never leave him

A woman's got the strength
A woman's got the power

Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...think about it
Woman is the nigger of the world
Think about it...do something about it

We make her paint her face and dance
If she wont be a slave, we say that she don't love us
If she’s real, we say she’s trying to be a man
While putting her down, we pretend that she’s above us

We make her bear and raise our children
And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen
We tell her home is the only place she should be
Then we complain that she’s too unworldly to be our friend

We insult her every day on tv
And wonder why she has no guts or confidence
When she’s young we kill her will to be free
While telling her not to be so smart we put her down for being so dumb

Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...if you don't believe me, take a look at the one you’re with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yes she is...if you believe me, you better scream about it
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Jim-
A Noriega-style musical bombardment may help Warren’s rehabilitation, though I’d prefer some good old-fashioned blood atonement. Given the chance, one or more of the other residents of Purgatory will likely take that matter up eventually, and send him straight to Hell in a handcart.
-Michael Mooney

Kid Rock

2009-03-17T17:49:00.006-06:00

St. Paddy's Day

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Kid Rock - The High Priest of Trash Tries Recycling

A few weeks ago I saw Kid Rock’s video for his song All Summer Long. Bob “Kid Rock” Ritchie popularized the Las Vegas White Trash Style (still manifesting itself on The Strip in 2009), and has been blending rap, rock, pop and country since the early 90s. On this song he hijacks the riff from Warren Zevon’s Werewolves of London and parts of Lynyrd Skynryd’s Sweet Home Alabama, adding his own lyrics into the blender to come up with this recent hit. The idea of Kid Rock taking old songs and weaving parts of them into new stuff is one I like. The two classic rock tunes he uses are better than the new final result, but I think his attempt at creating something new from the ashes of the old is praiseworthy, even if it is greater in concept than actualization. It will be interesting to see if other rock/pop acts follow his lead in recycling old songs into new. Rock Music is slowly dying from the twin effects of the short attention span of the digital download generation, and the domination of urban/rap top 40 radio across all youth demographics. Kid’s approach could help the younger crowd discover some past classics they missed firsthand. One of Pop Music’s traits has always been its disposability (“low art” trash); something new will be quickly taking over the airwaves and making last week’s hit obsolete. Is All Summer Long good trash or bad trash? Will the Eco-friendly/Green conscious youth decide this kind of song recycling is good for the planet and their iPods? Can we expect The Archie’s Sugar Sugar or other pop trash to be brought into the 21st century with a new body and facelift? When it comes to these questions, there’s only one thing for certain: Kid Rock will be partying near the front of the pack.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Jim-

Given that the history of Rock is rife with blatant wholesale theft, it doesn’t surprise me that two-bit hustler Bob Ritchie ripped off a couple of the 70s lesser musical moments (neither songs contain a bridge) to earn (?) himself another empty-headed hit (I’m reminded of the Clash singing about ‘gimmick-hungry yobs digging gold from Rock and Roll’- Ritchie’s entire career is summarized in that line.) There aren’t many plundered songs in the Rock canon that have been improved by the thieves themselves. The Beach Boys’ Surfin’ USA- pilfered from Sweet Little Sixteen- comes to mind (and even that one’s debatable), but few others. What Ritchie is doing here is typical of his type: stealing from a creative source and calling it homage.

These are the first 10 songs from my iPod this morning (random setting):

1. Steve Hillage: U.F.O. Over Paris (Green- 1978)
Spacy (what else) riff over tight but funky rhythm section, dissolving into celestial
glissando coda. Trippy.

2. Can: Deadlock- Instrumental Title Melody (Soundtracks- 1970)
And sounding like the theme to an Italian horror flick (which it may very well be.)

3. Damien Dempsey: It’s All Good (Seize The Day- 2004)
One of the finest songs of this young century. Co-sung by Sinead O’Connor.
Mournful and beautiful, as is all the best Irish music.
“Love yourself today. OK, OK”

4. The Kinks: Strangers (Lola VS Powerman And The Moneygoround, Part One- 1970)
Possibly brother Dave’s finest Kinks moment, and certainly his best 70s track.

5. Sir Douglas Quintet: Lawd, I’m Just A Country Boy In this Great Big Freaky City
(Mendocino- 1969)
Doug Sahm’s hippie/redneck ode to San Francisco.

6. Microdisney: Idea (Everybody Is Fantastic- 1984)
Leadoff cut from an essential pop LP.

7. Adele: Je Ne Veux Plus d’Accordeon (Femmes De Paris, Volume 2- 2002)
Not the pavement chaser, rather an obscure Chanteuse from les sixties;
French Freakbeat waltz ends in tragedy for the aerophonist.

8. The Zombies: Nothing’s Changed Backing Track (Zombies Heaven Box- 1997)
Hugh Grundy is one of Rock’s greatest drummers. Here’s proof.

9. Nelson Riddle: Batman Thaws Mr. Freeze or That’s The Way The Ice Cube Crumbles
(Batman Original Television Soundtrack- 1966)
Fun mashup incorporating Nelson’s classical vamps with Neal Hefti’s theme and the
great George Sanders (who sounds just like Otto Preminger.) Later sampled by
Juno Reactor.

10. NoMeansNo: Manic Depression (You Kill Me EP- 1985)
Heavy Hendrix cover version, far surpassing the original in both spirit and execution.
Touché!

And a little something for all you Micks (courtesy Fovea Hex):

"O Cormac, grandson of Conn," said Carbery, "what were your habits when you were a lad?"
"Not hard to tell," said Cormac.

"I was a listener in woods,
I was a gazer at stars,
I was blind where secrets were concerned,
I was silent in a wilderness,
I was talkative among many,
I was mild in the mead-hall,
I was stern in battle,
I was gentle towards allies,
I was a physician of the sick,
I was weak towards the feeble,
I was strong towards the powerful,
I was not close lest I be burdensome,
I was not arrogant though I was wise,
I was not given to promising though I was strong,
I was not venturesome though I was swift,
I did not deride the old though I was young,
I was not boastful though I was a good fighter,
I would not speak about anyone in his absence,
I would not reproach, but I would praise,
I would not ask but I would give...

for it is through these habits that the young become old and kingly warriors."

Happy St. Pat’s!
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com