Nice to know the New York Times has replaced the departed Kelefa Sanneh with another writer out of the "Everything's Great, Even the Obvious Shit" school of rock criticism.
I refer, of course, to the irrepressible Jon Caramanica.
In yesteray's Times, for example, Caramanica opened an essay taking a certain American Idol winner seriously with one of the all-time great Leads to Reviews So Unpromising No Sentient Being Could Conceive Of Reading the Rest of It:
Are we asking too much of Kelly Clarkson?
Trust me -- it gets worse, so don't say I didn't warn you.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's official -- Jon Caramanica is now, indisputably, the World's Most Irksome Rock Critic.
Kudos and huzzahs, Jon!
Update: Our good friend Sal Nunziato over at Burning Wood alerts us to this guy's review of Clarkson over at The Huffington Post. Words fail me, frankly.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
Another Christmas Gift For You (In March -- I Know, I Know)
So after that Buddy Holly clip I posted last week, I found my thoughts turning -- not altogether inexplicably -- to another revelatory 50s track by another seminal artist.
I'm a huge Bobby Darin fan; I don't have the time today to really get into the reasons, but it is, I think, a goddamn shame that Kevin Spacey 's Darin bio-pic of a few years ago sucked so badly. Let's just say that Bobby was among other things a terrific songwriter, a wonderfully expressive singer, and as a performer the missing link between Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley and leave it at that.
In any case, here's something that just jumped off the grooves of Aces Back to Back!, an otherwise spotty collection of Darin obscurities released in 2004: The original, stripped down and unadorned demo, from 1959, of the man's classic ballad "Dream Lover." Totally devoid of the gloopy strings and annoying yeh-yeh girls on the familiar hit version -- just two minutes or so of sheer romantic longing, heartbreakingly sung. Essentially, it's a 50s version of MTV Unplugged.
In living stereo, I might add.
Anyway, you can download it here. As before, if the authorization has expired by the time you get to it, e-mail me and I'll send you the mp3.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Warmest Wishes: Peter Tork
We at PowerPop wish to send good vibes to Peter Tork, who underwent surgery for a rare form of cancer this week.
Let's all send some warm and healing wishes to him.
Tork, 67, said he has a slow-growing form of head and neck cancer, Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma. Although it is most frequently found in the salivary glands, Tork's cancer was discovered on the lower region of the tongue.
"It's a bad news, good news situation," Tork says on the website. "It's so rare a combination (on the tongue) that there isn't a lot of experience among the medical community about this particular combination. On the other hand, the type of cancer it is, never mind the location, is somewhat well known, and the prognosis, I'm told, is good."
Let's all send some warm and healing wishes to him.
Weekend Listomania (Special Beat the Reaper! Video Edition)
Well, it's Friday and you know what that means. Yes, my Oriental personal groinal area manipulator Gal Friday Fah Lo Suee and I will be travelling to the Florida compound of Republican party head Rush Limbaugh. Yes, it's March and apparently the Oxycontin harvest is in full swing. We'll also be modelling Rush's new line of Eastern European Casino Bouncer fashions -- could be a hot one!
In any case, posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a few days.
But in my absence, here's a fun project for you all to contemplate:
Most Memorable Post-Beatles Song Either About Death or With the Words Death or Dead In The Title!!!
Self-explanatory, obviously, so no arbitrary rules this time.
Okay, here's my totally top of my head Top Seven:
7. Dead Flowers -- The Rolling Stones
This has nothing to do with anything, but when Charlie Watts hits the bell of his cymbal twice on the last line of the last chorus, I just go all gooey.
6. About to Die -- Procol Harum
They had a million of 'em, actually. In fact, I seem to recall they scrapped an entire album around this time until lyricist Keith Reid agreed to come up with something not so obviously sicklied over with a graveyard cast, if you know what I mean.
5. Death of Caroline -- Nelson Bragg
Bragg is a member of Brian Wilson's touring band, and this song, appropriately enough, puts a somewhat depressing spin on Wilson's classic "Caroline No." (In the clip above, it's the eighth song in, BTW). Included because I wanted something recorded in this century and because it's a gorgeous song from an album that deserves a wider audience. [I reviewed it here in 2007.]
4. I Walked With a Zombie -- Roky Erickson
Cheating on my part perhaps, but you have to agree the song is a sublime and perfect realization of the titular narrative.
3. Run For Your Life -- The Beatles
"I'd rather see you dead, little girl." I'm sure John regretted the sentiment later in life, but it's still a great song.
2. Life'll Kill Ya -- Warren Zevon
A haunting Aaron Copland-ish American plain song melody mated to one of its auteur's funniest and most mordant lyrics adds up to one of my favorite songs of the decade; ironically, it was NOT written when Zevon knew he was dying. "From the President of the United States to the lowliest rock n roll star...the doctor is in and he'll see ya now -- he don't care who you are."
And the number one song about biting the big one, there's really no argument about this remotely possible, obviously is --
1. Wall of Death -- Richard and Linda Thompson
Thompson's another one who's got a million of 'em, and actually I was going for "When I Get to the Border," which is a much subtler metaphor, but there was no video, alas. WOD, of course, is an equally killer (you should pardon the expression) song, and this unreleased version is quite gorgeous in a poppy folk-rock kind of way, no? Not sure where it's from...possibly from the legendary Gerry Rafferty sessions that produced the definitive "Shoot Out the Lights." Any Thompson afficianados out there have any idea?
Awrighty then -- what would your choices be?
[Shameless blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania -- theme: most erotic movie star pairings -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could see it clear to go over there and leave a comment, it would help convince management I'm worth the vast sums of money they're paying me. Thanks.]
In any case, posting by moi will necessarily be sporadic for a few days.
But in my absence, here's a fun project for you all to contemplate:
Most Memorable Post-Beatles Song Either About Death or With the Words Death or Dead In The Title!!!
Self-explanatory, obviously, so no arbitrary rules this time.
Okay, here's my totally top of my head Top Seven:
7. Dead Flowers -- The Rolling Stones
This has nothing to do with anything, but when Charlie Watts hits the bell of his cymbal twice on the last line of the last chorus, I just go all gooey.
6. About to Die -- Procol Harum
They had a million of 'em, actually. In fact, I seem to recall they scrapped an entire album around this time until lyricist Keith Reid agreed to come up with something not so obviously sicklied over with a graveyard cast, if you know what I mean.
5. Death of Caroline -- Nelson Bragg
Bragg is a member of Brian Wilson's touring band, and this song, appropriately enough, puts a somewhat depressing spin on Wilson's classic "Caroline No." (In the clip above, it's the eighth song in, BTW). Included because I wanted something recorded in this century and because it's a gorgeous song from an album that deserves a wider audience. [I reviewed it here in 2007.]
4. I Walked With a Zombie -- Roky Erickson
Cheating on my part perhaps, but you have to agree the song is a sublime and perfect realization of the titular narrative.
3. Run For Your Life -- The Beatles
"I'd rather see you dead, little girl." I'm sure John regretted the sentiment later in life, but it's still a great song.
2. Life'll Kill Ya -- Warren Zevon
A haunting Aaron Copland-ish American plain song melody mated to one of its auteur's funniest and most mordant lyrics adds up to one of my favorite songs of the decade; ironically, it was NOT written when Zevon knew he was dying. "From the President of the United States to the lowliest rock n roll star...the doctor is in and he'll see ya now -- he don't care who you are."
And the number one song about biting the big one, there's really no argument about this remotely possible, obviously is --
1. Wall of Death -- Richard and Linda Thompson
Thompson's another one who's got a million of 'em, and actually I was going for "When I Get to the Border," which is a much subtler metaphor, but there was no video, alas. WOD, of course, is an equally killer (you should pardon the expression) song, and this unreleased version is quite gorgeous in a poppy folk-rock kind of way, no? Not sure where it's from...possibly from the legendary Gerry Rafferty sessions that produced the definitive "Shoot Out the Lights." Any Thompson afficianados out there have any idea?
Awrighty then -- what would your choices be?
[Shameless blogwhore: My parallel Cinema Listomania -- theme: most erotic movie star pairings -- is now up over at Box Office. As always, if you could see it clear to go over there and leave a comment, it would help convince management I'm worth the vast sums of money they're paying me. Thanks.]
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Enough Already With the Early Clues to the New Direction!
From 1998, here's grunge rock avatars Pearl Jam and their utterly inexplicable live version of J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers' greaseball car crash classic "Last Kiss."
You know, the whole earnestness thing notwithstanding, I have no particular problem with Pearl Jam or Eddie Vedder. In fact, I think they're a pretty cool band and he's an interesting guy.
But as remakes go, this one just flummoxes me. Forget that nobody in PJ was familiar with this song or its cultural context; Eddie actually found a vinyl copy of it in a flea market, had an epiphany and then turned the rest of the band on to it, which to me is just...well, hilarious.
But there's no question that this is on every level the most clueless contemporary cover of a crappy old song in rock history; the only thing that comes close is Tesla's unplugged version of "Signs." The fact that both of them were the hugest hits in their respective band's careers, of course, just being the cream of the jest.
In any case, as always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who groks its relevance to tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.
Rotsa ruck, though.
You know, the whole earnestness thing notwithstanding, I have no particular problem with Pearl Jam or Eddie Vedder. In fact, I think they're a pretty cool band and he's an interesting guy.
But as remakes go, this one just flummoxes me. Forget that nobody in PJ was familiar with this song or its cultural context; Eddie actually found a vinyl copy of it in a flea market, had an epiphany and then turned the rest of the band on to it, which to me is just...well, hilarious.
But there's no question that this is on every level the most clueless contemporary cover of a crappy old song in rock history; the only thing that comes close is Tesla's unplugged version of "Signs." The fact that both of them were the hugest hits in their respective band's careers, of course, just being the cream of the jest.
In any case, as always, a coveted PowerPop No-Prize will be awarded the first reader who groks its relevance to tomorrow's Weekend Listomania.
Rotsa ruck, though.
A Christmas Gift For You (In March -- So Sue Me!)
Okay, I've finally got the chance to share one of my all-time favorite songs with you guys -- one that I've been looking for with a total lack of success for years.
But first, the backstory.
In 1958, first generation rock god Buddy Holly and his young bride Maria Elena left the provincial climes of Lubbock, TX and moved to sinful Greenwich Village in New York City. They promptly set up a hepster pad at the brand new luxury high rise The Brevoort, on the corner of 9th street and Fifth Avenue (the building's still there, by the way, and looks, now as then, like this).
Buddy had a professional Ampex tape machine in the apartment (a gift, I believe, from his music publisher, for whom Maria Elena had worked as a secretary before they met) and throughout '58, with just an acoustic guitar, he taped a number of songs, some as publishing demos, some just for his own amusement, all in mono. One of them was a stripped down version of Little Richard's fiery rocker "Slippin' and Slidin'", to which Buddy appended the cool guitar riff from the Everly Brothers' "Bird Dog."
Anyway, about five years after Buddy's death, his producer Norman Petty overdubbed new stereo backing tracks by studio musicians on a bunch of the apartment tapes at his studio back in Lubbock. Some of the resulting tracks are fun (a very nice "Peggy Sue Got Married") and some are less so, and most of them have appeared on various LPs and CDs over the years (I first heard them on a two-disc Holly Greatest Hits collection in the early 70s). But "Slippin' and Slidin'" has never been on CD, which I consider a cultural crime. Greil Marcus rightly described it as sounding like Buddy if he'd been been backed by The Band in their days as The Hawks; I think that's exactly right, and all the more surprising in that the musicians are actually The Fireballs, the guys behind the (I've always thought) rather lame hit "Sugar Shack." In any case, Buddy's vocal is a marvel -- sly, sexy and oozing fun and youthful excitement -- and I'm beside myself to finally have a digital version. [A Tip of the Hatlo Hat to our pal Sal Nunziato, who found it -- transferred from vinyl, apparently -- on some clandestine internet site and passed it along.]
Anyway, I think it's one of the coolest rock tracks ever, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. You can download it here. If the authorization has expired by the time you click on it, e-mail me and I'll send you the mp3.
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Future Now
My review of a very cool new rock film -- Scott Walker: 30 Century Man -- is finally up over at Box Office.
You can read the rest of it here. As always, if you could see your way to go over there and leave a comment, it would reassure management that I'm worth the insane amounts of money they're paying me.
Incidentally, the doc should be playing somewhere in your vicinity in the next month or two (it's in L.A., currently) so keep your eyes open; I don't have an exact date, but there should be a DVD in the stores sometime fairly soon as well. In either case -- not to be missed.
A fascinating meditation on the nexus of art and celebrity with a deeply charismatic figure at its center, director Stephen Kijak's profile of reclusive pop icon Scott Walker is one of the most remarkable music documentaries in ages, and certainly the absolute best ever made about a guy who went into a studio to record the sound of a man punching a side of pork (it's in the film, trust me)...
You can read the rest of it here. As always, if you could see your way to go over there and leave a comment, it would reassure management that I'm worth the insane amounts of money they're paying me.
Incidentally, the doc should be playing somewhere in your vicinity in the next month or two (it's in L.A., currently) so keep your eyes open; I don't have an exact date, but there should be a DVD in the stores sometime fairly soon as well. In either case -- not to be missed.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Hey, It was the 70s -- We Were All a Little Over the Top
So in comments downstairs, with Monday's post about Ric Ocasek and Ben Orr's band before The Cars (the hippie outfit Milkwood), constant reader MBowen writes:
I wish I could get a better look at the cover shot...I'd love to get a real look at what they looked like back in the sensitive singer-songwriter era.
Ask and you shall receive, my friend.
Aren't they just the cutest little things?
I wish I could get a better look at the cover shot...I'd love to get a real look at what they looked like back in the sensitive singer-songwriter era.
Ask and you shall receive, my friend.
Aren't they just the cutest little things?
Fun With Downloads: Special You Gotta Have Friends Edition
Wow -- here's one I've been looking for a CD version of since forever. Or at least since 1968, when I first saw the LP cover staring out at me from a bin at the Sam Goody in Paramus, N.J. and decided -- you know, I think I'll buy the new Creedence album instead.
If some of those guys in the cover photo look familiar, that's because they're three fifths of the original hit-making Paul Revere & the Raiders, specifically (l to r) drummer Mike "Smitty" Smith, guitarist Drake Levin, and bassist Phil "Fang" Volk (the unfamiliar blonde guy is keyboardist Ron Collins, of whom history has left no mention that I can find). As the Brotherhood, they put out two albums for RCA, neither of which sold; conventional wisdom -- which I have not been able to verify -- is that there were some unresolved legal issues around their leaving their previous band which did not sit well with Columbia Records, and that RCA essentially sat on the Brotherhood albums out of professional courtesy.
In any case, I'm a huge Raiders fan, so I am delighted to announce that this one is a very nice example of late Sixties pop psych and that you can rescue it from obscurity by downloading it here.
Also, and in the interest of full disclosure, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I found the link to it -- and to the Wilderness Road and Milkwood albums I've posted in the last week or two -- over at the fabulous website Redtelephone66, whose proprieter, record collector Leonard Los, is apparently devoting his life to posting audio links to obscure late 60s and early 70s rock albums that have fallen through the cracks. Mostly from vinyl, I believe, but I've yet to download one that doesn't sound really really good.
In any case, he puts two or three new ones up every week and you really should go over there and give him some love.
If some of those guys in the cover photo look familiar, that's because they're three fifths of the original hit-making Paul Revere & the Raiders, specifically (l to r) drummer Mike "Smitty" Smith, guitarist Drake Levin, and bassist Phil "Fang" Volk (the unfamiliar blonde guy is keyboardist Ron Collins, of whom history has left no mention that I can find). As the Brotherhood, they put out two albums for RCA, neither of which sold; conventional wisdom -- which I have not been able to verify -- is that there were some unresolved legal issues around their leaving their previous band which did not sit well with Columbia Records, and that RCA essentially sat on the Brotherhood albums out of professional courtesy.
In any case, I'm a huge Raiders fan, so I am delighted to announce that this one is a very nice example of late Sixties pop psych and that you can rescue it from obscurity by downloading it here.
Also, and in the interest of full disclosure, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I found the link to it -- and to the Wilderness Road and Milkwood albums I've posted in the last week or two -- over at the fabulous website Redtelephone66, whose proprieter, record collector Leonard Los, is apparently devoting his life to posting audio links to obscure late 60s and early 70s rock albums that have fallen through the cracks. Mostly from vinyl, I believe, but I've yet to download one that doesn't sound really really good.
In any case, he puts two or three new ones up every week and you really should go over there and give him some love.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Fun With Downloads: Special À La Recherche du DFH's Perdu Edition
Ladies and gentlemen, from 1972, here's the one and only album by Milkwood. An acoustic guitars and harmony outfit so lame they make America sound like Rammstein.
So why do I bring up this less than a musical milestone? Because the guys in Milkwood were Ric Ocasek, Ben Orr and Greg Hawkes.
Starting in 1978, of course, you knew them better as New Wave icons The Cars.
You can download the album here. And trust me -- as hard as you listen, you will not be able to detect a chinchilla of that band's trademark melange of Buddy Holly-ish pop, steely avant-gardisms and punk-ish minimalism.
So why do I bring up this less than a musical milestone? Because the guys in Milkwood were Ric Ocasek, Ben Orr and Greg Hawkes.
Starting in 1978, of course, you knew them better as New Wave icons The Cars.
You can download the album here. And trust me -- as hard as you listen, you will not be able to detect a chinchilla of that band's trademark melange of Buddy Holly-ish pop, steely avant-gardisms and punk-ish minimalism.
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