PowerPop

I Saw the Light

2009-07-14T00:12:00.001-04:00

So last week when I posted a clip of Lisa Loeb as the clue to the weekend's Listomania, a number of people sensibly, if wrongly, guessed that the theme was "Songs About Eyeware."

Which struck me, actually, as a pretty funny, if limited idea. So here's one of my favorites (granted, I can't think of too many others).

From 1972, and The Night is Still Young (probably their only really good album featuring mostly original songs), please enjoy Sha Na Na and their haunting paean to the invention of corrective lenses, the Jeff Barry-produced "Glasses." Written, played and sung by nice Jewish boy Jon "Bowser" Bauman, a prince.

BTW, I interviewed Bauman not too long after this came out, and I asked him what Sha Na Na used to slick back their hair. His answer? K-Y Jelly, which despite being designed (or so I've heard) for other purposes makes perfect sense, when you think of it, as it's completely water soluble. To this day, I can't figure why the band never did commercials for the stuff.

Logrolling in Our Time

2009-07-13T08:43:00.002-04:00

Apologies for the shameless blogwhore, but my thoughts on the greatest dramatic movie ever made about rock 'n' roll -- which has, criminally, never been available on home video, either tape or DVD -- are now up over at Box Office.

Complete with brief clip of the incomparable Screaming Jay Hawkins in full mau-mau regalia.

(Really) Great Lost Singles of the 70s: An Occasional Series

2009-07-13T07:56:00.001-04:00

Okay, this one's a) a masterpiece, b) incredibly rare, and c) something I've been looking for a copy of for nearly twenty five years.

From 1973, please enjoy Stealer's Wheel and "Everyone's Agreed That Everything Will Turn Out Fine," their fabulous followup to that song in the Tarantino movie whose name now escapes me. The promo single version, in stereo.

The short version: As I said, this was the followup to "Stuck in the Middle," and it flopped, inexplicably. The band then re-recorded it, hideously, for their second album, and that's the only version that has ever appeared on LP or CD since. Why they re-recorded it I have no idea, as the original is as close to perfection as any record ever gets; as you've heard by now, if "Stuck in the Middle" was the band channeling Dylan, this one is them channeling Revolver and late 60s pop psych in general. Simply gorgeous.

Adding to the wonder of it all, I should add that the circuitous route I took to finally finding the track involved -- unbeknownst to me at the time -- the help of a lurker at Eschaton. Talk about a fricking small world.

In any case -- enjoy the damn thing.

[h/t Richard Pachter and Hans Vaarkamp]

Weekend Listomania (Special Anywhere But Here! Video Edition)

2009-07-10T00:01:00.002-04:00

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental ~~manual catharsis engineer~~ fille de whoopee Fah Lo Suee and I are off to Wasilla, Alaska, where we'll be joining soon to be former Governor Sarah Palin [R-Mother of the Year] in a ceremony proclaiming Space Moose Alaska's Official State Animal. And I should add at this juncture that if you already know who Space Moose is, you ought to be deeply ashamed of yourself.

In any case, posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a little while.

But in the meantime, here's another little project for you folks:

Best Post-Elvis Song or Record Referencing Going Somewhere (Anywhere!) in the Title or Lyric!!!

No arbitrary rules this time, you're welcome very much, and if this is a little too similar to a Listomania I may or may not have posted in the past, please forgive me -- I'm old and senile.

In any case, my totally top of my head Top Seven would be...

7. Dashboard Confessional -- As Lovers Go

Okay, I don't much care for these guys, and I know it's not really about going somewhere, but I wanted to have something recorded in this century for a change. So sue me.

6. Dionne Warwick -- Trains and Boats and Planes

Said this before, but I think on balance this is not only her best record but Bachrach and David's most beautiful song. Alas, Dionne's version isn't on YouTube, but I was absolutely staggered to find that the Box Tops cover (with the teenaged Alex Chilton) which I had no idea existed, is. Truly amazing....

5. The Smashing Pumpkins -- Bullet Train to Osaka

As in Billy Corgan's pretentious cue-ball noggin wants to get on board the titular vehicle enroute to the titular city. That voice you hear is saying "All aboard the bullet train to Osaka" in Japanese, obviously.

4. Bessie Banks -- Go Now

Much as I adore the Moody Blues version (with my fave piano solo of the Brit Invasion) I've come to appreciate the original even more.

3. Nils Lofgren -- Keith Don't Go (Ode to a Glimmer Twin)

That's Keith, as in Richards, and don't go, as in don't kill yourself. From 1975, when such a thing seemed eminently possible. Lofgren's a mensch, obviously. And a great guitarist (dig the "Satisfaction" quote).

2. Katrina and the Waves -- Going Down to Liverpool

The Bangles version is more famous, and it has that Leonard Nimoy video obviously. But the original, with composer (and once and future Soft Boy) Kimberly Rew on guitar is the great one, I think.

And the numero uno This Must Not Be the Place tune, let's not even argue about this okay, obviously is --

1. Fairport Convention -- Si Tu Dois Partir

"If You Gotta Go," the Bob Dylan song, and in fricking French. Invitations to take a walk don't get any cooler.

Awrighty -- what would you choices be?

[Shameless Blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania -- theme: movies with cool courtroom scenes -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could see your way to going over there and leaving a coment, I'd be your best friend. And you can watch the complete courtroom scene from Woody Allen's Bananas, which is about as funny as it gets, so it'll be worth your while. Thanks!]

An Early Clue to the New Direction: Special Bad Eyewear Edition

2009-07-09T13:24:00.001-04:00

From 1994, please enjoy Ethan Hawke's next door neighbor Lisa Loeb and her plaintive alt-rock New Waif ode to romantic indecisiveness "Stay (I Missed You)."

As always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader to glean the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

And Speaking of Gorgeous...

2009-07-09T00:31:00.001-04:00

....please enjoy brilliant pop classicist Adam Schmitt's lightyears beyond addictive "Speed Kills." From volume 1 of the essential Yellow Pills series.

In all seriousness, if this one doesn't make you smile, I'd really have it looked at. You may recall that I posted another Schmitt song a couple of weeks ago; that one -- from his major label debut album -- was great, but on some level a response to grunge. "Speed Kills" is a little more traditional, and in retrospect I think it's even better. God knows that wordless "doo-doo-doo" chorus thing at the end is a hook for the ages....

Wails From the Crypt (An Occasional Series): Janis Joplin

2009-07-08T00:01:00.005-04:00

[So I was browsing through some back issues of the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review the other day, and this piece on a Janis Joplin movie struck me as holding up rather better than a lot of my old stuff. In retrospect, I think I was a little too dismissive of the feminist critque, but hey, I was a kid; on the other hand, I think I nailed the then unimagined The Rose for the bullshit that it would be rather presciently. In any case, with nary a word changed, here's how it ran in the May 1975 issue.]

THE REAL JANIS: JUST A GLIMPSE

IT's more than a bit difficult to write about Janis Joplin without getting mired in the rhetoric of sexual politics, but I'm going to try because the new film about her -- titled, appropriately enough, simply Janis -- manages (if only by accident) to pull that little trick off. It's a flawed film, to be sure, not really a documentary and not really a concert flick either, but I'm told that its schizophrenia is just a reflection of the way the project was researched. It was supposed to be a compilation of concert footage, but along the way the filmmakers kept unearthing all sorts of fascinating material and they couldn't make up their minds.

Actually, I'm rather grateful for that. Had they really done the documentary number -- interviewing the people who were close to her who, from all accounts, were a rather venal and insensitive lot -- we would have been forced to confront all sorts of larger issues, which I think would have been brutally cruel to her memory. The woman is dead, and theorizing about her death, attempting to turn her somehow into a symbol, is both a violation of her privacy and terribly dehumanizing. Somehow it cheapens her very real personal agonies if you try to make them into something else, something representative of some currently fashionable philosophical position you may be pushing. We are also spared, thank God, the kind of morbid cult mongering such a documentary would have inevitably produced -- the Judy Garland-ization of Janis -- although, on the basis of the audience reactions I witnessed, such a process may already be underway and out of the control of the filmmakers in any event.

My own feeling is that what destroyed her had at least as much to do with an artistic decline helped along by the media as it did with her personal problems or the role of women in society. Those hewing to the feminist line on her case might reflect on the parallels in the career of Joe Cocker. Like Janis, he was built by the media into something other than what he really was -- a singer in a rock-and-roll band -- and forced to be the new Ray Charles, just as Janis was cast as the new Bessie Smith. These days, Joe is falling apart, on stage and off, in a manner heartbreakingly reminiscent of the latter days of Joplin.

At any rate, all this comes across very strongly in the film, especially in the scenes with Big Brother, who incidentally were the most criminally underrated band in rock history. They provided the perfect instrumental equivalent to the things Janis was doing vocally, and the music they made together, despite what we were reading at the time, had almost nothing to do with the subtlety of the blues, but instead with the anarchic and joyous (the key word) clatter of rock-and-roll. The Monterey Pop sequence, with Janis wailing "Ball and Chain," bears this out. The performance, despite what the song is supposed to be about, is nothing if not celebratory; the energy is all directed outwad and it's breathtaking. Later, of course, we see the band in the studio [recording what became Cheap Thrills], and producer John Simon is trying to turn them into musicians. This particular segment (shot by D.A. Pennebaker, probably for what her manager Albert Grossman visualized as another Don't Look Back) is especially telling. The band is listening to a playback and Simon is geting really annoyed at his lack of success in getting them to conform to his sterile musical conceptions. What finally does it for him is that Janis is having none of it. Rather than listening, she's simply babbling away energetically about whatever it was that had happened to her that day. Unfortunately, the John Simon's of the world eventually won out; Big Brother was fired, and for the rest of the film we watch Janis with a succession of predictably competent back-up musicians who, with their very anonymity and lack of feeling, forced Janis to strip herself naked onstage in an attempt to summon up something like the excitement that had come so easily and spontaneously in the days when she was just one of five loveable hippies making undiscplined but infectious noise.

The film does, however, without really trying to, convey the feeling of disintegration on a psychological rather than musical level, and there is one sequence that will haunt me. Janis is on the Dick Cavett Show, and she is witty, brash, and very much in control. She projects the image we all had of her -- one that was of course a total lie -- with such panache that it's next to impossible not to believe in it. In the course of the conversation, she mentions that she's about to attend her high school class' tenth-year reunion, and she seems to truly relish the idea of returning in triumph to a place where some basically creepy people had worked hard at making her unhappy. Ah, sweet revenge! Then we cut immediately to the reunion itself, where Janis is being inteviewed by a local TV reporter; she's obviously very high, and the facade is beginning to crumble. In the midst of some reminiscences there is a moment -- brief, but unmistakable -- when she is suddenly again the little girl nobody had asked to the prom, smarting from an entire adolescence of rejection, and for just that brief moment she is on the verge of breaking down completely. You see the realization of this in her face, and she pulls back, becoming the Tough Mama again. But you know you've just glimpsed someone almost literally on the brink. It's really rather horrifying, especially in the light of what was about to happen to her.

I have my own memories of Janis -- the first perfomance with Big Brother in New York, which was one of the most exciting rock-and-roll shows I've ever had the good fortune to attend -- and I prefer them to the kind of visions the films presents. But for the moment anyway I think the film will do. It distills an individual, her music, and even a whole era with remarkable power, and it has a great deal to say about the essential callousness of too many in the world of rock, on both sides of the stage. (In what other field of endeavor, after all, do journalists publish polls in which people vote on which star will be the next to kick the bucket?) Far better a movie like this than the kind of exploitive fictionalization you know Hollywood must be preparing at this very moment. Janis isn't a great piece of cinema, and I certainly can't recommend it as a particularly important musical document (for that we'll have to wait until Lou Adler and Pennebaker open up their vaults and give us the complete Big Brother set from Monterey) but I suggest you see it anyway.

A brief postscript: A check over at Amazon reveals that for whatever reason there is no video of this available. Odd, that.

I'm in Heaven!

2009-07-07T13:09:00.005-04:00

Good Afternoon,

Just found this amazing clip of the great Easybeats on the 'Tube and wanted to share. This is of course their brilliant 1967 single Heaven and Hell. These guys had an amazing knack of sounding totally contemporary, yet they were always able to inject their own personality into the formula of the time. Love the keyboard flourishes on this too, and Stevie seemed to be in a rather playful mood at this shoot.

Great Lost Singles of the 80s (An Occasional Series)

2009-07-07T00:01:00.002-04:00

From 1981, please enjoy The Fabulous Perms and the lead-off track to their not available on CD Good Answer EP -- the delightfully catchy slice of New Wave Girl Group revivalism that is "Touch Me."

The Perms are backed here by a bunch of folks out of the whole Springsteen/Southside Johnny Jersey Shore mafia (Betty Perm is actually the ex-Mrs. Southside). And in the interest of full disclosure, I should add that Laura Perm, who's singing lead on the track, is an old and dear friend, although I didn't actually meet her until a decade after this was recorded.

In any case, an adorable record, I think; for more on The Perms, just click on the clipping below for a more readable (i.e., full-size) version of their story, which behooves beholding.

I'm not sure any of that stuff about Finland is strictly true, BTW.

What We Need is Young Blood...and Brains!

2009-07-06T16:17:00.006-04:00

Over at his fabulous Burning Wood blog today, our old friend Sal Nunziato has finally scored an mp3 of the not available on CD original (and superior) indie single version of The Brains New Wave classic "Money Changes Everything."

Get over to the site HERE to download it. And give Sal some love while you're on the premises.

Somehow, I Don't Think This is What Billy Joel Had in Mind

2009-07-06T06:30:00.004-04:00

Q: What do you get when you cross a guy playing Bach riffs on a harpsichord faster than his fingers can safely move, a honking 50s sax section, crazed boogie woogie piano, a flanged bass solo and a twangy sitar plunking away vaguely out of tune?

A: The greatest, or at least the funniest, rock instrumental of the last several decades.

Ladies and germs, please enjoy "The Carlsberg Special (Pianos Demolished Phone 021 373 4472)", or as it's better known, the b-side of Wizzard's 1972 glam rock classic "Ball Park Incident."

Incidentally, that's the original 45 sleeve from the Israeli(!) single version. Now THERE's something you don't see every day, and I particularly like the spelling of "Spesial."

BTW, like most of Wizzard's B-sides of the period, this one was NOT written by group founder/genius Roy Wood. In this case, the song was the brainchild of one Bill Hunt, Wizzard's original keyboards and french horn maestro, who left the band shortly after the release of this and of whose work since then I can find no record. In any case, on the basis of this sole digital artifact, I think we can all agree that the guy deserves to be regarded as one of the immortals.

[Author's Note: Actually, I lied about that last bit about Bill Hunt. For lots more on his subsequent career, enjoy the interview with him HERE.]

Weekend Listomania (Special I Can Name That Tune in.... Edition)

2009-07-03T00:01:00.002-04:00

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental ~~knob gobbler~~ recording engineer Fah Lo Suee and I are off to California for a memorial sleepover and jam session at Neverland Ranch. Hey -- we loved you, Michael!

So posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a little while.

But in the meantime, here's another little project for you folks:

Most Memorable Post-Elvis Record That Announces Itself Unmistakably Within the First Couple of Notes!!!!

No arbitrary rules this time, you're welcome very much. I should like to add, however, that I kinda wracked my brain trying to find an example from this century, until coming up with number 7. Maybe it's just me, but the kind of concision and gift for hooks this category demands seems to be something of a lost art. 60s and 70s examples? Gazillions, actually.

But if some of you younger kids have another recent song I've missed, please feel free to shame me for the preposterous old fogey I am.

Anyway, my totally top of my head Top Seven is:

7. Gnarls Barkley -- Crazy

That weirdly fragmented four-beat bass and drum hit is an odd hook, but it's damned effective, no?

6. Nirvana -- Smells Like Teen Spirit

That scratchy guitar doing what you think could be a Kinks riff -- once you've heard it, it's instantly etched on your cerebellum.

5. The Rolling Stones -- Satisfaction

Still the most famous opening fuzztone lick of all time. And a still exciting record; it may be a bad movie, but as you can see, it gets a memorable workout in the Angelina Jolie comedy Life or Something Like It.

4. The Byrds -- Mr. Tambourine Man

The Rickenbacker twelve-string that launched a thousand bands and records in its wake. And the most instantly identifiable opening bass riff.

3. The Byrds -- Eight Miles High

The SECOND most instantly identifiable opening bass riff, obviously.

2. The Beatles -- Paperback Writer

Oh, right -- like when they sing "Paperback Writer" in the opening, you'd think it was "Fuck You Like an Animal"?

And the numero uno you can't mistake if for anything else tune, c'mon you know this was gonna be the one so let's not waste time arguing about it, obviously is --

1. The Beatles -- A Hard Day's Night

The most famous heavily echoed suspended chord in all of music. It is, I think, no accident that it's played on one of those aforementioned Rickenbacker twelve-strings.

Awrighty then -- what would your choices be?

[Shameless Blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania -- theme: Most Memorable Screen Shady Dames -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, I would take it as a personal favor if you could see your way to going over there and leaving a comment. Thanks!]

An Early Clue to the New Direction: Special "Oh Wow!" Edition

2009-07-02T14:22:00.002-04:00

From 1970 or so, please enjoy legendary hippies The Grateful Dead and a live version of a song that eventually turns into their tribute to John Carpenter, the celebrated "Dark Star." Or so I'm told -- I frankly didn't have the patience to listen all the way through.

In any case, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who gleans the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

It's a Man's, Man's, Man's, Man's World

2009-07-02T00:02:00.002-04:00

From 1957, please enjoy "Louie, Louie" auteur Richard Berry and his perhaps insensitive to a woman's needs saga "Get Out of the Car."

Seriously, the first time I heard this song -- in 1993, when the above reissue of Berry's frequently amusing journeyman r&b novelties (with the occasional first-rate Little Richard emulation thrown in for good measure) first crossed my desk -- I remember laughing initially and then thinking, uh, you know, this is getting perilously close to a line that I don't think anybody really worried about back in the day.

On the other hand, as "Holy" Greil Marcus famously pointed out in a totally different context, it is perhaps a mistake to judge the brave men and women of an earlier time by the standards of our own.

Or something.

Left of the Dial (Part 2)

2009-07-01T11:48:00.000-04:00

High-powered music biz maven Ron Fields (Christopher Guest) returns to the late night Progressive Trends show of unspeakably laid back FM-jock Mel Brewer (Bill Murray), with the news that whaling songs and the people that sang them are in the toidy.

His prediction for the next Next Big Thing? Single person star phenomenon...

"Take the J Train down to Houston Street...it will let you off in Jamaica."

Left of the Dial (Part 1)

2009-07-01T00:01:00.000-04:00

From the hilarious 1976 album Goodbye Pop, unspeakably laid-back FM deejay Mel Brewer (Bill Murray) is visited by manager ("the man who discovered Cyrkle") and music business maven Ron Fields (Christopher Guest).

Ron's prediction? The Next Big Thing is...whaling songs! (And it's gonna be a "Kung Fu Christmas," but that's a separate issue).

Si! Si! Si!

2009-06-30T00:01:00.005-04:00

This won't come as a shock to anybody, but one of the nicest perks, if that's the word, of writing here over the last two years is that people have been moved to turn me on to some very cool music I would have never have otherwise heard.

But of all the songs I've been hepped to since NYMary gave me the spare set of keys to the car, as it were, I think this is the one I treasure most (and special thanks to Kid Charlemagne, whose encylopedic knowledge of some of the more obscure byways of pop and rock is a continuing source of amazement to me).

From 1965, please enjoy Los Shakers (a/k/a The Beatles del Rio de la Plata) and their exquisite "Always You."

Los Shakers were in many ways one of the archtypal 60s rock stories -- four kids from Uruguay who saw A Hard Days Night and flipped (like everybody else their age worldwide) and subsequently formed a band. Except they actually got signed by the Beatles parent record label (EMI) and became huge pop stars in South and Latin America (they were considered gods in Argentina, apparently).

Oh, and made absolutely wonderful records that live up to the source of their initial inspirations.

Case in point: "Always You." Seriously -- this is EXACTLY what the Beatles would have sounded like circa the soundtrack to Help if they had grown up South of the Border rather than in Liverpool. In short, as gorgeous a happy/sad pop tune as you'll ever encounter, with every little instrumental and vocal detail simply beyond perfection; I absolutely turn to jelly when that chiming Harrison-esque Rickenbacker twelve-string comes in at the top of the second verse, and I don't care who knows it.

BTW, you can see Los Shakers perform the song (in lower-fi mono) in a club scene from what is apparently a Latin version of an AIP beach party flick over at YouTube HERE.

For more on these guys -- who have credibly reinvented themselves as disciples of Astor Piazzolla since a 2005 reunion tour -- check out their estimable official website.

Get Your Kicks...

2009-06-29T00:02:00.002-04:00

Long story short: In a bizarre bit of karmic convergence, my good friend David Klein, doing business over at the remarkable Merry Swankster blog, just weighed in with the latest in his brilliant Numerology series, with a superb piece on the history (and much more) of the often covered pop/rock classic "Route 66." (Check it out HERE, including audio of the original version by Nat King Cole and a couple of other cool covers.)

And a few hours after I read it, I found myself sitting in with some old friends' bar band in the wilds of New Jersey and actually singing the thing. You have no idea how weird this is, as the last time I performed anything publically all the women's parts were played by men and the show's protagonist -- Richard III -- was still alive.

Fortunately, no video of Thursday's performance has yet surfaced on YouTube, although I think somebody was cell phoning it so who knows. All I can say, ultimately, is yipes, and echo the comment one of the waitresses made to the owner: "Why is that old Rabbi doing punk rock moves?"

Anyway, "Route 66" is a song that has loomed large in my legend, as they say, for decades now. So here's hands down my favorite performance of it -- from The Rolling Stones 1965 EP Got Live If you Want.

Actually, on most days this isn't just my fave version of the song. In fact, I'm often of the opinion that this is the Stones single most exciting live performance ever AND the most exciting live performance by a rock band period.

And isn't that back cover shot just the most evocative damned thing you've ever seen? There's no photo credit, alas, which has always bugged me; I'm betting it was taken by either David Bailey or Gered Mankowitz, but if there's a Stones completist out there who knows, please get in touch.

Old Man Take A Look at Yourself...

2009-06-28T10:41:00.001-04:00

Okay, kids, so despite my current straitened economic circumstances, I went ahead and splurged the 238 bucks over at Amazon for the ten-disc Blu-ray of Vol. 1 of the Neil Young Archives.

So of course I'm going to share with you.

From 1971, please enjoy Neil's previously unreleased tale of rock star anomie, "Southern California Brings Me Down."

I need someone to live with me
To keep my bed warm and keep my shorts clean
I need a maid to give for free
And sew patches on my jeans

I dreamed I found my cowgirl housewife
I was driving in my pickup through L.A.
I gotta love you while I can, babe
Before I become an old man

Southern California brings me down
Southern California brings me down
Southern California brings me down

I need some place to go
O North Ontario
It's safer than Alabama
It's safer than O-Ohio O-Ohio O

Gonna go home now where I can grow old
With the cowgirl of my dreams
Gonna stayed stoned now
Stare out my basement window and scream
Aa-aaa

I think we can all agree, Neil never distilled Topanga Canyon angst quite so brilliantly, although lord knows he's tried on numerous occasions.

Saturday Glam Blogging...

2009-06-27T16:52:00.003-04:00

Here's Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel with their 1974 single Judy Teen, which reached #5 on the UK charts in 1974. This song scores high on the precious and twee scale of glam circa the mid-1970s, but I have always had a special place in my heart for this band. Enjoy and buon weekend!

RIP Sky Saxon

2009-06-26T18:56:00.007-04:00

I think we would be remiss here at PowerPop to fail to acknowledge the passing of fellow astral traveler Sky Saxon yesterday. Personally, my introduction to the work of the Seeds came from Lenny Kaye's groundbreaking compilation of 60's punk/psych Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era: 1965-1968 which included the band's best known tune Pushin' Too Hard. I found my copy of Nuggets in a cutout bin when I was 18 and as a punk rocker in 1978 it literally blew my mind. Not only because of all the great music contained within the grooves of those two records, but also because it showed me that the punk/outsider ethos of rock and roll is truly universal and transcends all generations. Anyway, here's the Seeds' appearance in 1968's Psych Out which included the performances of Jack Nicholson, Susan Strasberg, Bruce Dern and Dean Stockwell.

BTW, you can't have flower power without the Seeds! Happy weekend!

Psych Out!

Weekend Listomania: Special I Knew 'Em When Video Edition)

2009-06-26T00:06:00.003-04:00

Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental ~~groinal manipulation technician~~ diet consultant Fah Lo Suee and I are off to the great state of South Carolina for some remedial nude hiking with Governor Mark Sandford (R-Down Argentine Way). Mark's bringing the Flit, but I'm worried that the bugs will be out of control anyway.

So posting by moi will be sporadic for a few days.

But in the meantime, here's another little fun project for you folks:

Best Major, i.e. Arena-Worthy, Rock/Pop Act You Were Lucky Enough to See in a Small Room!!!

No arbitrary rules here, as I'm going to be flexible about what constitutes a small room. A club like the departed Bottom Line in NYC sat about 400, which to me should be the outside figure, but B.B. King's, which is the contemporary equivalent, seats about 700. Anyway, I'll leave it to you guys to be honest about this. And hopefully, your examples will be from a time when whoever you nominate was on the way up, rather than down.

Oh, and incidentally, if you're puzzled about the clue downstairs, I saw Dolly Parton at the aforementioned Bottom Line sometime in the late 70s. Not really an arena act, I suppose, but you get the point.

Also, I have the unsettling feeling I may have done this topic (or one awfully similar) before, but cut me some slack. As you'll see from the list below, I'm obviously extremely old.

And my totally top of my head Top Seven is:

7. Patti Smith

At Max's Kansas City, which sat 150 people tops, performing the just released Easter album in its entirety. At one point, Patti kicked over the drinks on the table where my girlfriend and I were sitting; said girlfriend was totally freaked and made me take her home, and thus I missed the live version of "Because the Night." Irksome, as you can imagine, but I've forgiven both of them since.

6. The Cars

The aforementioned Bottom Line again, circa the first album. They were quite good in a steely sort of way, although I thought they were surprisingly deficient in the charisma department. Also, the late Ben Orr really shouldn't have been wearing leather pants.

5. The Police

At the aforementioned Bottom Line as well. They had been booked there before "Roxanne" hit, so it was your basic contractual obligation gig. Place was packed, obviously; I watched from the bar and had a very good time.

4. Dire Straits

Bottom Line, same deal; "Sultans of Swing" was Top Ten at the time. Knopfler was awesome, the more so for being totally nonchalant.

3. Bachman Turner Overdrive

Max's Kansas City, touring the first album, circa 1973. They played with tiny little Fender amps and I thought they were hilarious.

2. Cheap Trick

The Bottom Line, again, around Heaven Tonight in 1978. I went with a fanatical punk/New Wave fan who was disappointed they sounded so much like a metal band. Heh.

And the numero uno show featuring incipient superstars I ever saw at a hole in the wall dive, it's not even a contest as you'll see, obviously was --

1. The Wailers/Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band

Max's Kansas City again, early 1973 (the clip is from '72, but you'll get the idea). The Wailers (with both Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, for crissakes) were making their New York debut; Springsteen was pretty much an unknown. Both bands were utterly amazing, but most of the crowd left after the reggae, and so I saw Bruce for the first time in the company of fifty or sixty hardcore fans from the Jersey Shore. Bruce asked for requests, I shouted "Route 66," and they actually did it.

Awrighty then, who would your choices be?

[Shameless Blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania -- theme: best revised re-released film, classic or otherwise -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could possibly go over there and leave a trenchant comment, I'd be your best friend.]

An Early Clue to the New Direction: Special They're Called Boobs, Ed Edition)

2009-06-25T13:46:00.002-04:00

From 1974, please enjoy the aerodynamically unlikely Dolly Parton and a terrific live performance of her classic tale of a hill country Jezebel, the often-covered "Jolene."

I should add that my girlfriend at the time actually bought one of Dolly's stage outfits -- pretty much identical to the one in the clip -- at a charity auction back in the day, and being a petite little thing, it fit her almost perfectly. Except where you might imagine.

In any case, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded to the first reader who gleans the clip's relevance to the theme of tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.

But I'm not holding my breath on this one...

Great Lost Singles of the 21st Century (An Occasional Series)

2009-06-25T00:02:00.001-04:00

You know, there's been a lot of talk around here about how I only post incredibly old songs. Geriatric ones, even.

To which I can only reply -- is that Freedom Rock? Well, turn it up!!!!

But seriously...please enjoy a little beat number that's a mere two years old. From England, it's the charmingly monikered Noisettes and their charmingly abrasive "Don't Give Up."

To my ears, this is the kind of thing The Yardbirds would have done had they been born three decades later, which is to say a kind of punkish, hepster mix of Mose Allison-derived blues and downtown 80s Arto Lindsay guitar skronk. In any case, I think you'll agree that, as the Tom Hanks character says in That Thing You Do!, it's got a lot of pep.

[h/t plum p]

Oh. My. God.

2009-06-24T14:20:00.003-04:00

You know, I'd always hoped I hallucinated this, but apparently not.

From 1987, it's....well, you'll see.

"Hey man, Is that Freedom Rock?"

"Yeah, man."

"Well, turn it up, man!"

Seriously -- YouTube really is the Library at Alexandria.