Sunday, December 23, 2007
On Nina, on Martha, on J.J. and Goodman . . .
Billy Squier and the original MTV gang wish you the merriest of Christmases.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Teenage Kicks Exclusive: Scott McClatchy
For all the guys who say "I love you" through mix tapes, we bring you a song you can't find anywhere else. Here's Scott McClatchy, one of our favorites, who may or may not be related to one of the proprietors of this site.
Scott McClatchy, "Pat and Joanne"
Scott McClatchy, "Pat and Joanne"
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Welcome to Trip's Nightmare
Rolling Stone lists the fifty best songs over seven minutes long. All things considered, not a bad list, but I bet the list of fifty best songs under three minutes would kick its ass.
Friday, December 14, 2007
A Discography of Geography
In that last post about the terrific new book on The Replacements, I neglected to mention the following quote from Craig Finn, frontman and principal songwriter of the Teenage Kicks house band, The Hold Steady:
Hootenanny has “Run It,” which [references] Lyndale and Garfield [avenues in South Minneapolis], and I knew those streets and I was blown away that there was a rock band in my hometown.
There are plenty of reasons to love The Replacements. The fact that they gave Finn license to write songs incorporating the streets of Minneapolis is yet another.
Hootenanny has “Run It,” which [references] Lyndale and Garfield [avenues in South Minneapolis], and I knew those streets and I was blown away that there was a rock band in my hometown.
There are plenty of reasons to love The Replacements. The fact that they gave Finn license to write songs incorporating the streets of Minneapolis is yet another.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Words I Thought I Brought I Left Behind
The Replacements – All Over But The Shouting: An Oral History, by Jim Walsh
It’s hard for me to articulate my feelings about The Replacements, in part because they make so little sense. There was a time, in the late 1980s, when the ‘Mats meant everything to me. I had loved rock and roll my whole life, but I had never been so immersed in a band. It wasn’t hero worship. It was something much more intimate. I felt like they knew me, and I knew them, and that I could see something of myself reflected in Paul Westerberg’s unspeakably glorious songs. Westerberg was possessed of many gifts: a knack for melody, an abundance of rock and roll spirit, a natural and devastating ease with language. But more than anything, he had the gift of empathy. Paul could make you feel his pain, and make you believe that he felt yours. More than that, he could blur the line between his feelings and yours to the point that there was no real distinction to be made.
The connection was all the more remarkable because we really were nothing alike. Both of us were Midwesterners, born in the 1960s, but the similarities ended there. Westerberg was a city kid; I was from a series of tiny towns. He was a chronic screw-up who barely finished high school; I was an achiever on my way to law school. He was a substance-gobbling maniac; other than enjoying the occasional beer, I was a straight arrow. Still, when he sang “the ones who love us least/are the ones we’ll die to please,” he seemed like the brother I never had.
Despite the connection I felt to the band, I never really wanted to know them. They had a reputation for being drunk, petty, dismissive, and belligerent. I once stood about five feet away from Tommy Stinson, the band’s bassist, in a nearly empty bar. But I declined the chance to introduce myself. It seemed a risk not worth taking.
The band has been gone nearly twenty years now, but rock journalist Jim Walsh, who was there from the beginning, explores their incandescent decade together in his excellent new book The Replacements – All Over But The Shouting: An Oral History. The portrait that emerges is one of a band you couldn’t know even if you wanted to, a group as elusive as they were brilliant.
When I first heard that the book would be presented as an oral history – snippets of interviews and previous writings edited and arranged by the author without a conventional narrative – my first thought was that it’s a lazy way to write a book (though I enjoyed the similarly-structured Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain). But it turns out that it was the perfect format to tell the tale of a band of contradictions – confident and insecure, ambitious and self-sabotaging – that was impossible to pin down during their time together. This isn’t a fact-by-fact recitation. It is often not revealed when or why things happened, which is appropriate; through their alcoholic haze, the Replacements probably couldn’t recall the when and the why themselves. Instead, Walsh recounts the impressions, sometimes contradictory, of people who knew the band along the way. Though Westerberg’s and Stinson’s voices are heard through archival interviews (they declined to give new ones), the story is mostly told through the eyes of others, those who saw the ‘Mats at their heart-stopping best and jaw-dropping worst.
The star witness is Peter Jesperson, the record store owner turned record biz exec who managed and recorded Paul, Tommy, Tommy’s brother Bob (lead guitar) and Chris Mars (drums) from the get-go, when Tommy was just thirteen years old and the others barely pushing twenty. Jesperson and others were floored the moment they first saw the scruffy south Minneapolis kids play. “They were playing the Longhorn [a local bar] one night,” says Jay Walsh, the author’s brother. “They were so ******* good I was plastered up against a wall watching them. Within ten seconds, I knew they were the best band in town.” The ‘Mats quick ascendance from nothing to something sparked jealousy from Twin Cities contemporaries Hüsker Dü, and fueled a rivalry between the groups. Hüsker Dü’s drummer/singer Grant Hart recalls that Bob Mould, the Dü’s guitarist/vocalist “was intimidated by Twin/Tone [Jesperson’s record label] liking them. There just seemed to be this all-or-nothing thing: We were going to get ****** by Twin/Tone because of the existence of this band.”
There are also tales of disastrous shows marked by incoherence and indifference, the nights they might start thirty songs but drunkenly fail to finish any of them, or sets chock full of songs by Chuck Berry, Alice Cooper and the DeFranco Family, but not one by the Replacements. Scott McCaughey, leader of the Young Fresh Fellows, tells of a night in Providence when his band watched the ‘Mats play from right in front of the stage. “After about an hour,” he says, “as it became apparent that the band was reaching the point of complete incapability, Paul suddenly announced, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, the Young Fresh Fellows!’ Instruments were abandoned, and we clambered onstage and claimed them. I was amazed at the volume and sheer monumental rock sound when I hit an A-chord through Paul’s Marshall. We staggered into some medley of our song ‘Big House’ and Mott the Hoople’s ‘Walkin’ with a Mountain’ and god knows what else. After about ten minutes we gave up, too. At that point I think the perplexed crowd readied itself for the Replacements’ triumphant return to the stage. There wasn’t a chance in hell that was going to happen.”
Notwithstanding the band’s constant courting of disaster, they were able to make the major-label leap, thanks largely to their final indie effort, 1984’s monumental Let It Be, a classic of the form. Too often, though, the bigger stage only allowed the band to derail its career in grander ways, from tanking a tour in support of Tom Petty, to getting themselves permanently uninvited from playing on Saturday Night Live, to their unconventional approach to radio interviews:
DJ: Why do you write songs?
Westerberg: I do it to make Tommy and Chris look bad. [pause] No, I do it because I’m gay.
DJ: What can you tell us about the new single, “The Ledge”?
Westerberg: Well, it’s in E minor, and – if you’re following along at home – E minor, C major seventh, D suspended with a B seven turnaround.
The book’s emotional core, though, is in the long slow fade of Bob Stinson, the Replacements’ founding guitarist, a scorching, instinctive player as famous for his outfits (a tutu, a garbage bag, large-print dresses) as his axe-slinging. The book is vague at best about why he was kicked out of the group in 1986. It is understood that his abuse of drink and drugs was the reason, but it’s not clear how that made him any different than anyone else in the band. Bob is presented as credulous and naïve, a good-hearted goof who loved people, the guitar, and getting high, though not always in that order. Once fired, it’s plain to see his fate coming, which makes his death in 1995 all the more tragic. It plays out in slow motion, heartbreaking and inevitable.
In many ways, Bob’s departure started the band’s decline. But if the book has any shortcoming, it’s in failing to capture how sensational the Replacements could still be in their later years, when Slim Dunlap replaced the elder Stinson on guitar (though one of the book’s warmest moments deals with Emily Dunlap, Slim’s daughter, reacting to the change in personnel: “It’s never a good thing when your dad joins your favorite band,” Slim says. “That should not happen.”). They never again hit the towering heights, but they also rarely explored the withering depths. Good shows outnumbered bad as the 1990s came.
In fact, the best I ever saw them (the best I ever saw anyone) was in the days when they were falling apart for good. It was January 1991. Chris Mars had just departed, leaving only two original members, and it was clear that the ride was coming to an end. The first Iraq war was ongoing, and I was feeling unsettled with my country at war for the first time in real memory (Vietnam was only vague recollection for me). The foursome (including temporary drummer Steve Foley) hit the stage at the American Theater in St. Louis and played a ferocious, mesmerizing set that closed with their first single, “I’m in Trouble,” ending it where it began. Nothing about it was political, but given the context, it somehow seemed even more poignant, and became a long-treasured memory. That is, until seventeen years later when I got to page 159 and read this Westerberg quote from late 1990: “The war in Kuwait or a zit on my cheek? Which worries me more? You know, my ******’ cheek! My hair or global warming? It’s like, yeah – that **** is all bad, but I’m not gonna talk about something I don’t know about.”
The Replacements. Gone nearly two decades, and still screwing it up for the rest of us.
It’s hard for me to articulate my feelings about The Replacements, in part because they make so little sense. There was a time, in the late 1980s, when the ‘Mats meant everything to me. I had loved rock and roll my whole life, but I had never been so immersed in a band. It wasn’t hero worship. It was something much more intimate. I felt like they knew me, and I knew them, and that I could see something of myself reflected in Paul Westerberg’s unspeakably glorious songs. Westerberg was possessed of many gifts: a knack for melody, an abundance of rock and roll spirit, a natural and devastating ease with language. But more than anything, he had the gift of empathy. Paul could make you feel his pain, and make you believe that he felt yours. More than that, he could blur the line between his feelings and yours to the point that there was no real distinction to be made.
The connection was all the more remarkable because we really were nothing alike. Both of us were Midwesterners, born in the 1960s, but the similarities ended there. Westerberg was a city kid; I was from a series of tiny towns. He was a chronic screw-up who barely finished high school; I was an achiever on my way to law school. He was a substance-gobbling maniac; other than enjoying the occasional beer, I was a straight arrow. Still, when he sang “the ones who love us least/are the ones we’ll die to please,” he seemed like the brother I never had.
Despite the connection I felt to the band, I never really wanted to know them. They had a reputation for being drunk, petty, dismissive, and belligerent. I once stood about five feet away from Tommy Stinson, the band’s bassist, in a nearly empty bar. But I declined the chance to introduce myself. It seemed a risk not worth taking.
The band has been gone nearly twenty years now, but rock journalist Jim Walsh, who was there from the beginning, explores their incandescent decade together in his excellent new book The Replacements – All Over But The Shouting: An Oral History. The portrait that emerges is one of a band you couldn’t know even if you wanted to, a group as elusive as they were brilliant.
When I first heard that the book would be presented as an oral history – snippets of interviews and previous writings edited and arranged by the author without a conventional narrative – my first thought was that it’s a lazy way to write a book (though I enjoyed the similarly-structured Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, by Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain). But it turns out that it was the perfect format to tell the tale of a band of contradictions – confident and insecure, ambitious and self-sabotaging – that was impossible to pin down during their time together. This isn’t a fact-by-fact recitation. It is often not revealed when or why things happened, which is appropriate; through their alcoholic haze, the Replacements probably couldn’t recall the when and the why themselves. Instead, Walsh recounts the impressions, sometimes contradictory, of people who knew the band along the way. Though Westerberg’s and Stinson’s voices are heard through archival interviews (they declined to give new ones), the story is mostly told through the eyes of others, those who saw the ‘Mats at their heart-stopping best and jaw-dropping worst.
The star witness is Peter Jesperson, the record store owner turned record biz exec who managed and recorded Paul, Tommy, Tommy’s brother Bob (lead guitar) and Chris Mars (drums) from the get-go, when Tommy was just thirteen years old and the others barely pushing twenty. Jesperson and others were floored the moment they first saw the scruffy south Minneapolis kids play. “They were playing the Longhorn [a local bar] one night,” says Jay Walsh, the author’s brother. “They were so ******* good I was plastered up against a wall watching them. Within ten seconds, I knew they were the best band in town.” The ‘Mats quick ascendance from nothing to something sparked jealousy from Twin Cities contemporaries Hüsker Dü, and fueled a rivalry between the groups. Hüsker Dü’s drummer/singer Grant Hart recalls that Bob Mould, the Dü’s guitarist/vocalist “was intimidated by Twin/Tone [Jesperson’s record label] liking them. There just seemed to be this all-or-nothing thing: We were going to get ****** by Twin/Tone because of the existence of this band.”
There are also tales of disastrous shows marked by incoherence and indifference, the nights they might start thirty songs but drunkenly fail to finish any of them, or sets chock full of songs by Chuck Berry, Alice Cooper and the DeFranco Family, but not one by the Replacements. Scott McCaughey, leader of the Young Fresh Fellows, tells of a night in Providence when his band watched the ‘Mats play from right in front of the stage. “After about an hour,” he says, “as it became apparent that the band was reaching the point of complete incapability, Paul suddenly announced, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, the Young Fresh Fellows!’ Instruments were abandoned, and we clambered onstage and claimed them. I was amazed at the volume and sheer monumental rock sound when I hit an A-chord through Paul’s Marshall. We staggered into some medley of our song ‘Big House’ and Mott the Hoople’s ‘Walkin’ with a Mountain’ and god knows what else. After about ten minutes we gave up, too. At that point I think the perplexed crowd readied itself for the Replacements’ triumphant return to the stage. There wasn’t a chance in hell that was going to happen.”
Notwithstanding the band’s constant courting of disaster, they were able to make the major-label leap, thanks largely to their final indie effort, 1984’s monumental Let It Be, a classic of the form. Too often, though, the bigger stage only allowed the band to derail its career in grander ways, from tanking a tour in support of Tom Petty, to getting themselves permanently uninvited from playing on Saturday Night Live, to their unconventional approach to radio interviews:
DJ: Why do you write songs?
Westerberg: I do it to make Tommy and Chris look bad. [pause] No, I do it because I’m gay.
DJ: What can you tell us about the new single, “The Ledge”?
Westerberg: Well, it’s in E minor, and – if you’re following along at home – E minor, C major seventh, D suspended with a B seven turnaround.
The book’s emotional core, though, is in the long slow fade of Bob Stinson, the Replacements’ founding guitarist, a scorching, instinctive player as famous for his outfits (a tutu, a garbage bag, large-print dresses) as his axe-slinging. The book is vague at best about why he was kicked out of the group in 1986. It is understood that his abuse of drink and drugs was the reason, but it’s not clear how that made him any different than anyone else in the band. Bob is presented as credulous and naïve, a good-hearted goof who loved people, the guitar, and getting high, though not always in that order. Once fired, it’s plain to see his fate coming, which makes his death in 1995 all the more tragic. It plays out in slow motion, heartbreaking and inevitable.
In many ways, Bob’s departure started the band’s decline. But if the book has any shortcoming, it’s in failing to capture how sensational the Replacements could still be in their later years, when Slim Dunlap replaced the elder Stinson on guitar (though one of the book’s warmest moments deals with Emily Dunlap, Slim’s daughter, reacting to the change in personnel: “It’s never a good thing when your dad joins your favorite band,” Slim says. “That should not happen.”). They never again hit the towering heights, but they also rarely explored the withering depths. Good shows outnumbered bad as the 1990s came.
In fact, the best I ever saw them (the best I ever saw anyone) was in the days when they were falling apart for good. It was January 1991. Chris Mars had just departed, leaving only two original members, and it was clear that the ride was coming to an end. The first Iraq war was ongoing, and I was feeling unsettled with my country at war for the first time in real memory (Vietnam was only vague recollection for me). The foursome (including temporary drummer Steve Foley) hit the stage at the American Theater in St. Louis and played a ferocious, mesmerizing set that closed with their first single, “I’m in Trouble,” ending it where it began. Nothing about it was political, but given the context, it somehow seemed even more poignant, and became a long-treasured memory. That is, until seventeen years later when I got to page 159 and read this Westerberg quote from late 1990: “The war in Kuwait or a zit on my cheek? Which worries me more? You know, my ******’ cheek! My hair or global warming? It’s like, yeah – that **** is all bad, but I’m not gonna talk about something I don’t know about.”
The Replacements. Gone nearly two decades, and still screwing it up for the rest of us.
Friday, December 07, 2007
No Two Alike
Listen to this while you read.
I wish I’d had a camera. The season’s first snow fell on Kansas City yesterday, and a small militia of children (including my daughter, nearly seven, and son, just shy of four) and I gathered on the gentle slope of a neighbor’s backyard, a vast, lightly wooded expanse that serves as the hub of an oblong wheel of a dozen or more homes. Just past dusk the winter sky turned a milky purple-white, and the glow of Christmas trees in nearly every window settled upon us. The night was still as a reflecting pool, the mercury barely below freezing. Few things are perfect, but this night was.
As the kids, sleds in hand, lined up for takeoff at the top of the hill, I stood at the bottom, the Catcher of the Small Fry, positioned to prevent them from hurtling through the pin oaks and into the shallow ravine. They came, one after another. Solo flights. Tandem missions. Sleds linked together into long trains of pleasure riders. There were no cries, no complaints, and no casualties. Just the very essence of childhood joy, the kind that instantly transports you back three decades.
It’s the sort of thing I didn’t understand before I had kids, something with which I would never bore childless friends. But this is the good stuff, better than any experience you could buy, and the kind of thing you’d miss if you didn’t occasionally force yourself to stop and smell the frozen noses.
As they floated down on their sliding saucers, some were intense thrill-seekers. Some were bundles of giggles and smiles, crash-landing, brushing themselves off, and flying back up the hill almost as fast as they’d come down. Each kid was a snowflake, shimmering and perfect, no two alike.
I wish I’d had a camera. The season’s first snow fell on Kansas City yesterday, and a small militia of children (including my daughter, nearly seven, and son, just shy of four) and I gathered on the gentle slope of a neighbor’s backyard, a vast, lightly wooded expanse that serves as the hub of an oblong wheel of a dozen or more homes. Just past dusk the winter sky turned a milky purple-white, and the glow of Christmas trees in nearly every window settled upon us. The night was still as a reflecting pool, the mercury barely below freezing. Few things are perfect, but this night was.
As the kids, sleds in hand, lined up for takeoff at the top of the hill, I stood at the bottom, the Catcher of the Small Fry, positioned to prevent them from hurtling through the pin oaks and into the shallow ravine. They came, one after another. Solo flights. Tandem missions. Sleds linked together into long trains of pleasure riders. There were no cries, no complaints, and no casualties. Just the very essence of childhood joy, the kind that instantly transports you back three decades.
It’s the sort of thing I didn’t understand before I had kids, something with which I would never bore childless friends. But this is the good stuff, better than any experience you could buy, and the kind of thing you’d miss if you didn’t occasionally force yourself to stop and smell the frozen noses.
As they floated down on their sliding saucers, some were intense thrill-seekers. Some were bundles of giggles and smiles, crash-landing, brushing themselves off, and flying back up the hill almost as fast as they’d come down. Each kid was a snowflake, shimmering and perfect, no two alike.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Let This Boy Shout, Let This Boy Scream
"Going Underground" by The Jam is one the few dozen songs in existence that at one time or another (like right now) could lay claim as the greatest song ever written. I've heard this song 500 times and when it popped up on my itunes tonight the opening guitar salvo quickly shook me out of my basketball funk (my Hawks laid an egg tonight at home and got smoked by well-coached, fun to watch Holy Cross squad).
Why Paul Weller and The Jam couldn't crack the American market is a great mystery. Listen to this song and tell me there's a better way to spend three minutes.
As an added bonus here's an incredible Bowie meets T. Rex doing the E Street Shuffle version of "Going Underground". This song should be uncoverable but somehow Buffalo Tom makes it simmer and smolder and it becomes a declaration of purpose as opposed to Weller's furious statement of barely contained post-adolescent anti-war fury.
The Jam - "Going Underground"
Buffalo Tom - "Going Underground"
Sometimes rock and roll can absolutely take your breath away.
Why Paul Weller and The Jam couldn't crack the American market is a great mystery. Listen to this song and tell me there's a better way to spend three minutes.
As an added bonus here's an incredible Bowie meets T. Rex doing the E Street Shuffle version of "Going Underground". This song should be uncoverable but somehow Buffalo Tom makes it simmer and smolder and it becomes a declaration of purpose as opposed to Weller's furious statement of barely contained post-adolescent anti-war fury.
The Jam - "Going Underground"
Buffalo Tom - "Going Underground"
Sometimes rock and roll can absolutely take your breath away.
Men out of time
We don’t aspire to cool around here. It’s too taxing, and we’re not part of the right demo, anyway. Too old, too married, too many kids, too concerned about college basketball, too little attention given to cutting-edge footwear. Mostly, though, we’re just too indifferent to status, which, come to think of it, may be an indicator that we are, in fact, cool. Well, maybe Trip is cool. Me, I sold out to the man and started hawking t-shirts online, permanently and eternally disqualifying me from cool consideration.I digress. To the extent I ever was cool, it was for about five minutes in the 1990s, which, coincidentally, is the name of the band I recently saw open for Art Brut and The Hold Steady. 1990s, that is. If I were cool, instead of them just being a band whose name was familiar from something I read somewhere, I would have known that their roots go back to Yummy Fur, the same band that gave birth to Franz Ferdinand, and I would have owned their album in its proper stateside release form, plus a handsome armload of imports and b-sides. Instead, they were just the band playing to a mostly empty house when I eased into the funky/musty main room. But as I watched the jagged three-piece with the thick Scottish brogues play, a couple of light bulbs went on. One said “these guys remind me of the Fratellis” (and if living in the great middle west does anything, it gives you license to think that all Scottish trios sound alike). The other said “these songs are good.”
So I picked up the album. And those songs are good. There’s nothing profound going on; it’s all sugar-high, a spike of good feeling that lasts for three minutes and then fades away (speaking of the Fratellis . . .). But I like my candy now and then, and these stomping, spiky hooks (which on disc suggest Primal Scream more than the aforementioned Frats), tickle my taste buds even if they fail to nourish my soul. Have a listen.
Listen to "You Made Me Like It" buy Cookies iTunes Amazon
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
T-Kicks T-Shirts!
"Who needs TV when I got my Teenage Kicks t-shirt?" - Mott the Hoople, "All the Young Dudes"
Just in time for the holidays, we at Teenage Kicks are pleased to make available to you, the Internet-browsing public, blue ring tees just like the one worn in the photograph by the fetching woman snuggling up to the lucky man who is not her husband. We have a very limited number of shirts in sizes M, L and XL (M and XL are really, really limited), and we're willing to part with them for $9.00 each (shipping included), which is less than our cost. If you'd like one (or more), drop me a line at matchison@kc.rr.com, and include your name, address, and quantity and size(s) you need. We'll fill orders, first-come, first-served. And if the demand far exceeds supply, we'll see about making more.
Cross-Pollination
I have Teenage Kicks, which gets my frequent attention, and I have True Sons, a blog devoted to my devotion to the Missouri Tigers, which gets neglected by comparison. Rarely do I mix one with the other, in part because most of you who visit here don't share my Mizzou mania. But because it has been a euphoric fall for the Tigers, and because our team just ascended to the top of the BCS rankings, I thought I'd share my latest thoughts on the eradication of the curse that has long hung over those who love the University of Missouri.
Friday, November 23, 2007
A Doo Wop Group on Wheels
As regular readers of this blog may have noticed, I am chief cook and bottle washer of the Southeastern PA chapter of the Jesse Malin fan club. Despite his unorthodox vocals, over-reliance on New York swagger and out-of-date Rod Stewart via Paul Weller rooster haircut, Malin believes. Believes in all the power and the redemption rock and roll can offer. And that, plus a meat and potatoes songwriting style that looks back not only to punk rock circa '77 but also Springsteen, Chuck Berry and Brill Building popmeisters, is more than enough for me. In concert, the passion in his delivery is palpable and he he openly embraces his heroes - as evidenced by the artists he chooses to cover - Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, the Clash, Graham Parker, Jim Croce, Nilsson, The Hold Steady and last Tuesday night at Philadelphia's Tin Angel, a double shot of the ragged glory that is Neil Young.
And that brings us to Malin's cover of Neil's "Helpless" on Tuesday, where he wanders into the crowd and selects one poor sap to sing on mike a wee bit of the chorus. This night the poor sap was your overage, overfed, overserved, humble correspondent. And as this show was broadcast live on WXPN and streaming over the world wide web, the moment has been captured forever.
For those with short attnetion spans, fast forward to about 3:56 in and prepare to be dazzled.
And that brings us to Malin's cover of Neil's "Helpless" on Tuesday, where he wanders into the crowd and selects one poor sap to sing on mike a wee bit of the chorus. This night the poor sap was your overage, overfed, overserved, humble correspondent. And as this show was broadcast live on WXPN and streaming over the world wide web, the moment has been captured forever.
For those with short attnetion spans, fast forward to about 3:56 in and prepare to be dazzled.
--
p.s. That's the great Steve Thomas with Malin. Sorry ladies... he's taken.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
List of the Week: Reasons to be Thankful
1. Four tickets on the 50 for the biggest Border War battle of all-time.
2. Yearly countdowns.
3. A blogging partner who is cooler at 50 than I was at 20. Or 30.
4. The joy of discovering new music.
5. The joy of rediscovering old favorites.
6. The return of college basketball and cold nights in warm gyms.
7. A three-year-old’s newfound appreciation of “Blitzkrieg Bop.”
8. The love of a good woman.
9. Our favorite (and only) letter to the editor.
10. All of you who share this space with us. Listen
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you from both of us!
2. Yearly countdowns.
3. A blogging partner who is cooler at 50 than I was at 20. Or 30.
4. The joy of discovering new music.
5. The joy of rediscovering old favorites.
6. The return of college basketball and cold nights in warm gyms.
7. A three-year-old’s newfound appreciation of “Blitzkrieg Bop.”
8. The love of a good woman.
9. Our favorite (and only) letter to the editor.
10. All of you who share this space with us. Listen
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you from both of us!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Hello Larry!
They came, they rocked the drunkards. Last night, The Hold Steady played Lawrence, Kansas’s Granada Theater, a bigger room with a bigger stage than the Bottleneck, site of their last foray into Larrytown. The crowd was bigger, too, and more combustible, and younger and dumber (Hello fratboy meatheads pushing your way to the front! Hello world’s waifiest male crowd surfer! Hello loud unfunny guy! Hello tattooed girl to whom Craig Finn earnestly implored “put your shirt back on, please”!).
Take away that my presence significantly raised the average age in the pit (Is it time to start hanging back by the bar? Yeah, it might be), and it was just like old times, back to my salad days, full of hot, sweaty rock and roll. The band is good, you know that. And they’re a little predictable, too. Maybe “dependable” is the better word. They’re guaranteed to rock or your money back. No one has walked away with a dime yet.
It was a bit more of a professional rock show than the last time I saw them. They had their own crew (instead of setting up themselves), and Tad wasn’t mingling with the hoi polloi before the set. When the band emerged on stage – Franz in his zoot-suited Rollie Fingers get-up; Bobby with his closely-trimmed locks and ever-present Rush t-shirt; Galen looking like, well, Galen; Tad, minus the glasses, seeming the very definition of “normal guy”; and Craig, cleanly shaven, in his best English-department-graduate-assistant-as-rock-star pose – they got the full heroes’ welcome.
The set list was shuffled, with “Hot Soft Light” pushing perennial opener “Stuck Between Stations” into the second slot. From there, it was heavy on tracks from Boys and Girls in America and unreleased gems, and notably light on the mythology of Holly, Gideon and Charlemagne (though Holly’s epic “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” blew the place up). Early on, Finn announced that a recent short break from touring had yielded some new songs, and we got three of them: “Sequestered in Memphis,” trademark riff-a-licious Hold Steady; “Lord, I’m Discouraged,” a slowed-down number that has been all over the interweb; and a song whose title I didn’t catch (I don’t think it was ever said) that detailed an unhealthy post-adolescent obsession with Led Zeppelin songs, name-checking a dozen or so (including “D’yer Mak’r” and “Trampled Under Foot”) along the way.
The encore kicked off with the unreleased and rarely played “Arms and Hearts,” a slow and spooky number that may be the single most unrepresentative song in the Hold Steady canon. That segued into a scorching “Most People are DJs” and then into the set-closing “Killer Parties,” which has come to be for the band what “My Way” was for Sinatra, the flashing neon sign that says “time to go home, folks.”
There was no mass dancing on the stage at shows end, but we received the normal benediction, Finn’s affirmation that we’re all The Hold Steady.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
List of the Week
Once, years back, I was loitering in a bookstore, perusing the pages of some pop music encyclopedia, and the first words in the entry for each artist gave some florid description of their music, like “psychedelic dream pop” or “proto goth metal.” Then I got to The Replacements, and it said simply rock and roll. Damn right, I thought. And so as I prepare to see another rock and roll band – The Hold Steady – tonight, I give you a non-exclusive list of ten great no-nonsense, four-on-the-floor, guitar-bass-drums (keyboards optional), rock and roll bands, in no particular order.
1. The Rolling Stones
2. The Clash
3. The Replacements
4. The Hold Steady
5. The Faces listen to Pool Hall Richard
6. New York Dolls
7. The Stooges
8. The Ike Reilly Assassination
9. The Ramones
10. Marah listen to Freedom Park
1. The Rolling Stones
2. The Clash
3. The Replacements
4. The Hold Steady
5. The Faces listen to Pool Hall Richard
6. New York Dolls
7. The Stooges
8. The Ike Reilly Assassination
9. The Ramones
10. Marah listen to Freedom Park
Friday, November 09, 2007
The North Will Rise Again
Here at Teenage Kicks, we love us some Canadians. From Trip's current crush Jeremy Fisher to longtime faves New Pornographers to the primo power pop of Sloan, O Canada, we will stand on guard for thee. In aught-six, we both fell hard for Jason Collett, a sterling purveyor of North Americana, and word comes this week that he'll breach the northern border with a new disc in February. Can't wait 'til then? Us, either. So thanks to the good folks at Arts & Crafts, here are a pair of new tracks to enjoy.
Listen to "Charlyn, Angel of Kensington"
Listen to "Out of Time"
Listen to "Charlyn, Angel of Kensington"
Listen to "Out of Time"
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Song For The Dreamers
The best rock and roll should always be able to surprise... and inspire. And that's why Danny and Dusty, a one-off anti-supergroup of L.A. paisley underground gadflies qualifies as the best rock and roll. Formed around the nucleus of Dan Stuart (Green on Red) and Steve Wynn (The Dream Syndicate), Danny and Dusty recorded (apparently in one legendary 36 hour bender) one booze-soaked masterpiece of pure alt-fun. I hadn't known anyone who even knew who these guys were (besides my brother Scooter) until recently I met up with someone who was able to burn me a copy of their long out of print debut, The Lost Weekend.
Now a new album (Cast Iron Soul - available here) has brought the boys back together for a few gigs... and so far only one on the east coast - January 12, 2008 at The Bowery Ballroom (tix here) with the guiter heroics of Dave Schramm and his band The Schramms opening. One question punk - are you man enough to go to Manhattan for this gig? Saddle up because I think Feeney is driving, and you know what that means... on the way home I'll be asleep before we hit Hoboken.
But I digress - take a listen to a true lost classic - the original song from The Lost Weekend and of course, since it's 2007, a recent video. And just check out rock and roll Dan Stuart at 3:42 of this video ... Danny and Dusty got soul. This song stings, it swings, and you'll be a better person for having heard it.
And since it's Friday, here's two more alt country classics, one each from The Beat Farmers and the Del Lords.
Danny and Dusty - Song For The Dreamers
Obligatory YouTube video
Beat Farmers - Bigger Stones
Del Lords - Judas Kiss
Now a new album (Cast Iron Soul - available here) has brought the boys back together for a few gigs... and so far only one on the east coast - January 12, 2008 at The Bowery Ballroom (tix here) with the guiter heroics of Dave Schramm and his band The Schramms opening. One question punk - are you man enough to go to Manhattan for this gig? Saddle up because I think Feeney is driving, and you know what that means... on the way home I'll be asleep before we hit Hoboken.
But I digress - take a listen to a true lost classic - the original song from The Lost Weekend and of course, since it's 2007, a recent video. And just check out rock and roll Dan Stuart at 3:42 of this video ... Danny and Dusty got soul. This song stings, it swings, and you'll be a better person for having heard it.
And since it's Friday, here's two more alt country classics, one each from The Beat Farmers and the Del Lords.
Danny and Dusty - Song For The Dreamers
Obligatory YouTube video
Beat Farmers - Bigger Stones
Del Lords - Judas Kiss
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
List of the Week
While it still doesn’t exactly qualify as writing, last week’s effort at jumpstarting the creative process by making a list proved such a ratings bonanza that I’ve opted to make it a regular feature.
In 1973, I was watching Sesame Street twice a day and listening to radio religiously. I was an only child at the time, but thanks to the older children of my parents’ friends, I was exposed to a stream of 45 rpm records, mini-platters that mattered, stacks of wax that blew my impressionable mind. For their own sadistic amusement, adults would play singles while I sang into the handle of a curtain string, my imaginary microphone of choice. Trip recently made an off-hand reference to one of my favorite tunes of the era, and I turned wistful, that sense of time and place rushing back. And so here is the list of the ten greatest songs of all-time, as determined by me at age five:
1. The Osmonds – “Down by the Lazy River”
2. Sweet – “Ballroom Blitz” listen
3. Creedence Clearwater Revival – “Proud Mary”
4. The DeFranco Family – “Heartbeat (It’s a Love Beat)”
5. The Rolling Stones – “Brown Sugar”
6. Joe Tex – “I Gotcha” listen
7. Daddy Dewdrop – “Chick-A-Boom”
8. The Jackson Five – “ABC”
9. Melanie – “Brand New Key”
10. Badfinger – “Day After Day” listen
In 1973, I was watching Sesame Street twice a day and listening to radio religiously. I was an only child at the time, but thanks to the older children of my parents’ friends, I was exposed to a stream of 45 rpm records, mini-platters that mattered, stacks of wax that blew my impressionable mind. For their own sadistic amusement, adults would play singles while I sang into the handle of a curtain string, my imaginary microphone of choice. Trip recently made an off-hand reference to one of my favorite tunes of the era, and I turned wistful, that sense of time and place rushing back. And so here is the list of the ten greatest songs of all-time, as determined by me at age five:
1. The Osmonds – “Down by the Lazy River”
2. Sweet – “Ballroom Blitz” listen
3. Creedence Clearwater Revival – “Proud Mary”
4. The DeFranco Family – “Heartbeat (It’s a Love Beat)”
5. The Rolling Stones – “Brown Sugar”
6. Joe Tex – “I Gotcha” listen
7. Daddy Dewdrop – “Chick-A-Boom”
8. The Jackson Five – “ABC”
9. Melanie – “Brand New Key”
10. Badfinger – “Day After Day” listen
What were your top ten songs at age five? Leave your list in the comments.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Joe Posnanski on Springsteen
Here in Kansas City, we have a sports columnist named Joe Posnanski. I collect records. Joe collects National Sports Columnist of the Year awards. He has been in Japan following the Land of the Rising Sun's answer to the World Series (Nippon Ham Fighters' manager Trey Hillman is set to take the same post with the Kansas City Royals). While experiencing searing back pain and a sense of isolation in a very small room, he composed these words on his relationship to Bruce Springsteen's songs.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
When All Else Fails . . .
I have been less than prolific lately. I could offer excuses (my mind occupied by the success of the Missouri Tigers football team – We’re number 9!), but it’s mostly a lack of inspiration. For years, when I looked at the discs on the shelf and could find no inspiration, the rule was to play Squeeze’s Singles 45's and Under. And when I can’t find the will to write, the rule is to make a list. And so today, in an effort to get the wheels spinning, I combine those two rules and present a list of the ten all-time greatest single-artist single-disc compilations (defined as any group of songs not originally conceived or recorded as part of the same album). I’ve verified that this list is 100% correct, so don’t bother disagreeing.
1. Bob Marley and the Wailers – Legend
2. Chuck Berry – The Great Twenty-Eight
3. Creedence Clearwater Revival – Chronicle
4. Sly and the Family Stone – Greatest Hits
5. Squeeze – Singles 45's and Under
6. Elvis Presley – The Sun Sessions
7. The Ramones – Ramones Mania
8. The Who – Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy
9. Sam Cooke – The Man and His Music
1. Bob Marley and the Wailers – Legend
2. Chuck Berry – The Great Twenty-Eight
3. Creedence Clearwater Revival – Chronicle
4. Sly and the Family Stone – Greatest Hits
5. Squeeze – Singles 45's and Under
6. Elvis Presley – The Sun Sessions
7. The Ramones – Ramones Mania
8. The Who – Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy
9. Sam Cooke – The Man and His Music
10. English Beat – What Is Beat?
Friday, October 26, 2007
Starter For 10
Do you like romantic comedies? John Cusack in The Sure Thing, Say Anything and High Fidelity? Do you think that the Undertones "Teenage Kicks", Motorhead's "Ace of Spades", The Cure's "In Between Days" and The Smiths "Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want" can peacefully co-exist within the same great movie? Do you like The Graduate? Do you find Michael to be a poncey wanker? Do you fancy being clever? Or beautiful? Are you in love with life itself?
Then rent the Starter for 10 dvd tomorrow. It's that good.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
My iPod wants to rock you
After warming up with some world music esoterica (Thomas Mapfumo, Os Mutantes, an early Bob Marley rarity), the greatest device ever invented just laid down this epic troika:
"Rock and Roll All Nite," KISS
"Unchained," Van Halen
"Kiss Me On The Bus," The Replacements
It then served up Elvis's "Mystery Train" as a smooth-finishing chaser.
Props to Trip on the epic Hold Steady post (I didn't know that Zep cover existed). I'm slated to see the band in three weeks, and hope to have something equally rapturous to report. I've also got a headful of ideas about Radiohead and Bruce Springsteen that are driving me insane. Hopefully I can organize them and share soon.
"Rock and Roll All Nite," KISS
"Unchained," Van Halen
"Kiss Me On The Bus," The Replacements
It then served up Elvis's "Mystery Train" as a smooth-finishing chaser.
Props to Trip on the epic Hold Steady post (I didn't know that Zep cover existed). I'm slated to see the band in three weeks, and hope to have something equally rapturous to report. I've also got a headful of ideas about Radiohead and Bruce Springsteen that are driving me insane. Hopefully I can organize them and share soon.
You, Me, Us....(TLA 10-23-07)
Can you spot the rock star?
Teenage Kicks unabashedly supports The Hold Steady as the best band in America. Last night, once again, they crushed expectations with yet another exuberant rock revival meeting. Who says rock is dead? Surrounded by friends everywhere I looked, I realized that’s what sets The Hold Steady apart – a real feeling of kinship between band and audience. I counted at least 40 people I knew or were friends of friends - Mary Z and Kevin, Scott, Alan, Feeney, Peter and his date Greg, Nan, Kat, Barb, Billy, Billy's son, Brandt, Angelo, Hartmaier, Fudgie, Dave, Ann, Lieve (Leeeeve...say it right!), Dave and Diane, Robin, Jamey, Sean, Jersey Mike, Kurt and Claire, Matt, Matt's son, Tim, Brandon, Brett, Eric, Hinchey, BagofSongs Tom, Ed, John, Don, not to mention almost 14 feet of Stankus - Chris and Brian. If I forgot to list you or didn't see/speak to you last night, I'm sorry. It was that kind of night.
Your correspondent, floating on a river of Yuengling (copyright mz plus photos), joined the much celebrated “stage invasion” during the high mass show closer of “Killer Parties”. I was sufficiently lubricated to stand tall on stage with The Hold Steady and offer the great rock salute to my boys – the fist pump. At least I didn’t do the devil horns, shout out a lame request or pretend my cell phone was a bic lighter (people going to concerts… stop doing that NOW!).
Above are a few pics from the pre-show at The Blarney Stone (hey there Sean and Jersey Mike) and during the TLA set but I’ll spare you the shot of me wolfing down a Jim’s steak post show.
If you want to know why we go nuts for The Hold Steady, Michael and I have each written passionate testimonials elsewhere on this blog. We'd like to urge all of America (and of course our substantial international readership) – go see these guys when they come to your town… it’ll be the best show you see this year (or maybe second best if you’re also seeing Springsteen).
Here’s two non-album tracks for your enjoyment – “Girls Like Status” (which received a suitably raucous airing last night) and the b-side to their impossible to find first single, a hazy but riffalicious cover of Led Zep’s “Hey Hey What Can I Do”.
“There is so much joy in what we do up here. I want to thank you all for being here tonight to share that joy with us.”
Girls Like Status
Hey Hey What Can I Do
Your correspondent, floating on a river of Yuengling (copyright mz plus photos), joined the much celebrated “stage invasion” during the high mass show closer of “Killer Parties”. I was sufficiently lubricated to stand tall on stage with The Hold Steady and offer the great rock salute to my boys – the fist pump. At least I didn’t do the devil horns, shout out a lame request or pretend my cell phone was a bic lighter (people going to concerts… stop doing that NOW!).
Above are a few pics from the pre-show at The Blarney Stone (hey there Sean and Jersey Mike) and during the TLA set but I’ll spare you the shot of me wolfing down a Jim’s steak post show.
If you want to know why we go nuts for The Hold Steady, Michael and I have each written passionate testimonials elsewhere on this blog. We'd like to urge all of America (and of course our substantial international readership) – go see these guys when they come to your town… it’ll be the best show you see this year (or maybe second best if you’re also seeing Springsteen).
Here’s two non-album tracks for your enjoyment – “Girls Like Status” (which received a suitably raucous airing last night) and the b-side to their impossible to find first single, a hazy but riffalicious cover of Led Zep’s “Hey Hey What Can I Do”.
“There is so much joy in what we do up here. I want to thank you all for being here tonight to share that joy with us.”
Girls Like Status
Hey Hey What Can I Do
Monday, October 22, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Don't Call & Three Strikes
Just for no good reason, here's three in current heavy rotation in my house.
We got alt-country pop courtesy of Southern California's The Hideaways, whose breezy Tupelo meets Beat Farmers at Jayhawk Drive honky tonk recalls a great song called "Kissed A Girl" by the late, lamented (by me) Star City. I wish I could post that one too but I can't currently find it.
Stranger's Heart
The Hideaways myspace page
Then there's the light, but top 40 in my mind, uber-melodic pop of "Sex Without Love" from the always reliable Ben Lee's lateset, Ripe.
Sex Without Love
And since I'm getting my game face on in preparation for The Hold Steady's Philadelphia invasion next Tuesday (that will take place on World Series Eve... is that some kind of holiday?), here's a classic baseball ditty done up greatest-band-in-America style.
Take Me Out To The Ballgame
Oh yeah... that picture - that's my friend Donna who I met in Orlando last week. She was a little peeved at me for not name-checking her when I wrote about camping out for Bruce Springsteen tickets 30 YEARS AGO!! But it was her apartment where I took refuge and she was a big part of the camp out... as she reminded me. She's about the coolest friend a guy could have.
The batteries? Not sure but she's by herself a lot. Her husband has lots to do.
And if you're thinking of calling Donna on the phone... don't do it. Cut her a break - she doesn't want to talk to you. Not even a little bit.
I'm serious.... don't call her.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Radiohead vs. The Honeydogs
I am not even close to a huge Radiohead fan – I think their prog leanings take what could be a fine little art-pop band and create a pretentious, self-important behemoth. That said, I’ve heard moments of unquestioned beauty and superb arena anthems sprinkled throughout their catalogue. I don’t have any animosity towards the band – their music just generally leaves me cold. My Teenage Kicks co-conspirator Michael champions their work so maybe someday he’ll knock some sense into me.
Radiohead’s new direct-to-consumer model is being heralded as the music industry’s new world order. I see it as a death knell. The model works for huge artists who have millions of fans waiting with bated breath for their next musings. It even may work for mid-level artists who have smaller, devoted followings or legacy artists whose listeners will follow them anymore. I applaud Radiohead – why wouldn’t they do this? What does a record company have to offer them at this stage? Fuck the major labels – they’ve spent years ripping off consumers (15 bucks for a cd? fuck you) and ignoring artist development to go for the big score. I have no problem with the big score – but let some of those younger acts develop and maybe they’ll give you a couple of medium scores.
But what about new bands, baby bands… the future of rock and roll? How do they get their music heard? For every internet, blog hyped (fucking lameass bloggers) sensation like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, there are five hundred bands that go unheard. Seek out these artists that are good enough to be heard, but whose back-story may not be that remarkable or whose marketing buzz is only the music itself. You know who they are… support these guys and go have a $12 religious experience in a stink bar with 95 of the closest friends you never knew you had.
Which brings me to The Honeydogs…ever heard of them? I didn’t think so. They are a snappy little rock combo that falls into that Bermuda Triangle wasteland where alt-country, indie rock and pop smarts meet to the sound of one hand clapping and careers go to die. Today I got a mix disc in the mail that featured their“Losing Transmissions” and I thought here’s a band that’s not going to benefit from Radiohead’s new business model. They weren’t exactly reaping rewards from the old world model. They played The Khyber recently for 15 people. They’re still out there – seven cds for seven different record labels. I worry that Radiohead’s vision for the future doesn’t include these guys. And this is by no means Radiohead’s problem – they’re my new heroes.
What does it say about me that if given the opportunity tomorrow to go see The Honeydogs in a shitty rock club or Radiohead (arguably the biggest band in the world) in a hockey rink that I’d choose The Honeydogs without blinking.
Here’s three of The Honeydogs’ finest… search them out on emusic or visit your favorite indie record store and buy something… before it’s too late.
Radiohead’s new direct-to-consumer model is being heralded as the music industry’s new world order. I see it as a death knell. The model works for huge artists who have millions of fans waiting with bated breath for their next musings. It even may work for mid-level artists who have smaller, devoted followings or legacy artists whose listeners will follow them anymore. I applaud Radiohead – why wouldn’t they do this? What does a record company have to offer them at this stage? Fuck the major labels – they’ve spent years ripping off consumers (15 bucks for a cd? fuck you) and ignoring artist development to go for the big score. I have no problem with the big score – but let some of those younger acts develop and maybe they’ll give you a couple of medium scores.
But what about new bands, baby bands… the future of rock and roll? How do they get their music heard? For every internet, blog hyped (fucking lameass bloggers) sensation like Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, there are five hundred bands that go unheard. Seek out these artists that are good enough to be heard, but whose back-story may not be that remarkable or whose marketing buzz is only the music itself. You know who they are… support these guys and go have a $12 religious experience in a stink bar with 95 of the closest friends you never knew you had.
Which brings me to The Honeydogs…ever heard of them? I didn’t think so. They are a snappy little rock combo that falls into that Bermuda Triangle wasteland where alt-country, indie rock and pop smarts meet to the sound of one hand clapping and careers go to die. Today I got a mix disc in the mail that featured their“Losing Transmissions” and I thought here’s a band that’s not going to benefit from Radiohead’s new business model. They weren’t exactly reaping rewards from the old world model. They played The Khyber recently for 15 people. They’re still out there – seven cds for seven different record labels. I worry that Radiohead’s vision for the future doesn’t include these guys. And this is by no means Radiohead’s problem – they’re my new heroes.
What does it say about me that if given the opportunity tomorrow to go see The Honeydogs in a shitty rock club or Radiohead (arguably the biggest band in the world) in a hockey rink that I’d choose The Honeydogs without blinking.
Here’s three of The Honeydogs’ finest… search them out on emusic or visit your favorite indie record store and buy something… before it’s too late.
Friday, October 05, 2007
More Memorable Musical Moments
We haven’t had as much time as we’d like to devote to this countdown (yo, XPN, check our schedules next time, will ya?), but I’ve been listening the best I can, and it’s a tour de force of musical geekery, and I mean that as a huge compliment. The previous lists of songs, albums and artists must have been arduous enough to compile, but this countdown is far more high-concept and labor intensive, and Bruce Warren, Dan Reed and the XPN brain trust deserve high marks for putting together a master class in the history of pop music.
That said, this effort has a far different feeling than previous countdowns, each of which found a momentum and rolled. When the 885 greatest songs came tumbling out of the speakers, they provided an adrenaline rush. Even the occasional song I loathed sparked a reaction. But the Moments countdown is less visceral, more cerebral. These things don’t always naturally go together (often, I’ll miss the intro and not even know what the song I’m hearing is supposed to represent; that was never an issue before), requiring more effort from the listener to get the full effect. Some things are interesting in their own way – say, Brian Eno’s composition of six seconds of music for Microsoft Windows – without being particularly enjoyable. Others are just plain maudlin. Every entry on the album countdown gave opportunity for celebration. But some of these moments – the deaths of Jeff Buckley and Gene Vincent, for example – are buzz kills.
And the title to the whole thing is a bit off, but I think that’s to XPN’s credit. Many of these moments will come as complete news to even hardcore music fans, calling into doubt just how memorable they are. But I’d much rather hear a list that tempers memorable moments with ones that are important, esoteric, absurd, arcane or influential. For instance, I never knew that ? (of ? and the Mysterians) claimed to have come from Mars and lived with dinosaurs, but I know it now, and, of course, I’m the better for it. It is a fact now in search of a cocktail party.
I’m flying solo here while Trip shifts mental gears from Phillies heartbreak to Springsteen euphoria, but here are a few of my favorite moments since the first fifty.
829. Modern Lovers release their John Cale-produced debut in 1973
Despite my best efforts, this one failed to crack the 885 albums list two years ago, demonstrating the listenership’s almost complete lack of interest in it. But the Brain Trust steps in to rectify history, while simultaneously driving down ratings. My question, dear readers: Why don’t you own this indispensable album? The person who leaves the best explanation in the comments gets a free Teenage Kicks t-shirt.
827. Robert Christgau starts the Pazz & Jop Poll in 1971
Next to music itself (and pizza), mankind’s greatest invention. Bookmark this site.
817. The Third Wave Ska Revival
The fact that the second wave of ska was better than the first is astonishing. That the third wave would suffer dismally in comparison to the first two was mighty mighty predictable.
787. The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus
786. High School Musical becomes a pop-culture phenomenon
I love that these popped up back to back. The Stones are my favorite band ever, and I’ve seen Rock and Roll Circus once. I have seen HSM nine million times.
774. WKRP in Cincinnati debuts
“Oh my God, they're turkeys!! Johnny, can you get this? Oh, they're plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked car! Oh, the humanity! The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement! Not since the Hindenburg tragedy has there been anything like this!”
765. Sid Vicious sings “My Way”
763. Adam Sandler releases “The Hannukah Song”
Not a Jew, but that Sid Vicious sure loved his matzos and knishes.
741. Charles Mingus releases Mingus Ah Um
Possibly my favorite jazz album ever. Buy it. Now.
715. Joey Ramone, lead singer of The Ramones, dies of lymphoma
Boy, DeeDee and Johnny are gonna be pissed if their deaths don’t rate.
660. Charles Manson hears the Beatles’ White Album
Sorry, but could we stop giving this mass-murdering attention whore, you know, attention?
651. The non-release of the Guns N Roses album Chinese Democracy
Rock’s equivalent of a tree falling in an unpopulated forest. Axl tells me it’ll be out any day now.
649. James Brown, “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud”
I was signing this at the top of my lungs with no palpable sense of irony.
640. Genya Ravan becomes the first major woman producer
629. Cole Porter writes “Night and Day”
Hearing the Dead Boys’ “Sonic Reducer” and Sinatra’s take on “Night and Day” in the same hour? Now, that’s good radio.
626. Curtis Mayfield releases his debut album
And then to follow with “If There’s a Hell Below, We’re All Gonna Go”? XPN, you complete me.
That said, this effort has a far different feeling than previous countdowns, each of which found a momentum and rolled. When the 885 greatest songs came tumbling out of the speakers, they provided an adrenaline rush. Even the occasional song I loathed sparked a reaction. But the Moments countdown is less visceral, more cerebral. These things don’t always naturally go together (often, I’ll miss the intro and not even know what the song I’m hearing is supposed to represent; that was never an issue before), requiring more effort from the listener to get the full effect. Some things are interesting in their own way – say, Brian Eno’s composition of six seconds of music for Microsoft Windows – without being particularly enjoyable. Others are just plain maudlin. Every entry on the album countdown gave opportunity for celebration. But some of these moments – the deaths of Jeff Buckley and Gene Vincent, for example – are buzz kills.
And the title to the whole thing is a bit off, but I think that’s to XPN’s credit. Many of these moments will come as complete news to even hardcore music fans, calling into doubt just how memorable they are. But I’d much rather hear a list that tempers memorable moments with ones that are important, esoteric, absurd, arcane or influential. For instance, I never knew that ? (of ? and the Mysterians) claimed to have come from Mars and lived with dinosaurs, but I know it now, and, of course, I’m the better for it. It is a fact now in search of a cocktail party.
I’m flying solo here while Trip shifts mental gears from Phillies heartbreak to Springsteen euphoria, but here are a few of my favorite moments since the first fifty.
829. Modern Lovers release their John Cale-produced debut in 1973
Despite my best efforts, this one failed to crack the 885 albums list two years ago, demonstrating the listenership’s almost complete lack of interest in it. But the Brain Trust steps in to rectify history, while simultaneously driving down ratings. My question, dear readers: Why don’t you own this indispensable album? The person who leaves the best explanation in the comments gets a free Teenage Kicks t-shirt.
827. Robert Christgau starts the Pazz & Jop Poll in 1971
Next to music itself (and pizza), mankind’s greatest invention. Bookmark this site.
817. The Third Wave Ska Revival
The fact that the second wave of ska was better than the first is astonishing. That the third wave would suffer dismally in comparison to the first two was mighty mighty predictable.
787. The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus
786. High School Musical becomes a pop-culture phenomenon
I love that these popped up back to back. The Stones are my favorite band ever, and I’ve seen Rock and Roll Circus once. I have seen HSM nine million times.
774. WKRP in Cincinnati debuts
“Oh my God, they're turkeys!! Johnny, can you get this? Oh, they're plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked car! Oh, the humanity! The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement! Not since the Hindenburg tragedy has there been anything like this!”
765. Sid Vicious sings “My Way”
763. Adam Sandler releases “The Hannukah Song”
Not a Jew, but that Sid Vicious sure loved his matzos and knishes.
741. Charles Mingus releases Mingus Ah Um
Possibly my favorite jazz album ever. Buy it. Now.
715. Joey Ramone, lead singer of The Ramones, dies of lymphoma
Boy, DeeDee and Johnny are gonna be pissed if their deaths don’t rate.
660. Charles Manson hears the Beatles’ White Album
Sorry, but could we stop giving this mass-murdering attention whore, you know, attention?
651. The non-release of the Guns N Roses album Chinese Democracy
Rock’s equivalent of a tree falling in an unpopulated forest. Axl tells me it’ll be out any day now.
649. James Brown, “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud”
I was signing this at the top of my lungs with no palpable sense of irony.
640. Genya Ravan becomes the first major woman producer
629. Cole Porter writes “Night and Day”
Hearing the Dead Boys’ “Sonic Reducer” and Sinatra’s take on “Night and Day” in the same hour? Now, that’s good radio.
626. Curtis Mayfield releases his debut album
And then to follow with “If There’s a Hell Below, We’re All Gonna Go”? XPN, you complete me.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
The Greatest Ever?
By Sunday morning I will have seen Bruce Springsteen in concert 55 times (yes I’m an obsessive nerd and I keep a list of every show I’ve ever seen). Currently I am listening to a pristine, mind-blowing bootleg of the first Bruce Springsteen concert I ever attended – a life changing evening at The Tower Theater in December 1975. It’s an astonishing document of a band at its creative peak – just after the release of Born to Run and the Time and Newsweek covers and just before the leap to arena shows.
His lethal cocktail of unbridled passion, everyman camaraderie, PT Barnum showmanship, vivid storytelling, cocky swagger, ace chops, that burly, booming yowl and most of all… an incredible sense of the healing and celebratory power of rock and roll have combined to make Bruce Springsteen the single greatest live performer in the history of rock roll. And it might not even be close. It’s doesn’t diminish other concert heavyweights like Elvis, The Stones, Led Zep, Otis Redding, The Clash, U2, The Replacements, Radiohead, The White Stripes or current torchbearers The Hold Steady to make this statement. Nobody has done it this well, this long. Nobody.
So here's a majestic solo version of “For You” from that night because it’s just about perfect and I know you’ll dig it. And cause it's Friday, a tribute from The Boss to one of his heroes.
I swear, every show I’ve seen since December 28, 1975 has been an attempt to recapture the magic of that night.
Bruce Springsteen - For You
His lethal cocktail of unbridled passion, everyman camaraderie, PT Barnum showmanship, vivid storytelling, cocky swagger, ace chops, that burly, booming yowl and most of all… an incredible sense of the healing and celebratory power of rock and roll have combined to make Bruce Springsteen the single greatest live performer in the history of rock roll. And it might not even be close. It’s doesn’t diminish other concert heavyweights like Elvis, The Stones, Led Zep, Otis Redding, The Clash, U2, The Replacements, Radiohead, The White Stripes or current torchbearers The Hold Steady to make this statement. Nobody has done it this well, this long. Nobody.
So here's a majestic solo version of “For You” from that night because it’s just about perfect and I know you’ll dig it. And cause it's Friday, a tribute from The Boss to one of his heroes.
I swear, every show I’ve seen since December 28, 1975 has been an attempt to recapture the magic of that night.
Bruce Springsteen - For You
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
885 mmmm... The First 50
No way we can do all 885... but the first 50 truly seemed to be calling our name.
885: Soul Survivors Release “Expressway To Your Heart”
M: Ugh. What I feared. I can see it now. 722: Melanie releases “Brand New Key.” 649: Tony Orlando releases “Tie A Yellow Ribbon.” 511: The SLA releases Patti Hearst.
T: All right... Philly represents. But honestly, didn't the Beatles themselves have 885 more memorable musical moments than this song?
884: “The Time Has Come Today” becomes a hit for the Chambers Brothers
M: 883: “Time Has Come Today” slowly slides down the charts. 882: “Time Has Come Today” shows up on Rhino’s “Rockin’ Soul Hits of the 60s” compilation. 881: “Time Has Come Today” licensed for many, many commercials.
T: I would have voted it in for it’s devastating inclusion in Coming Home, one of the great post-Vietnam anti-war flicks.
883: “Shining Star” becomes Earth, Wind & Fire first and only #1 hit in the US
M: “Boogie Wonderland” was robbed.
T: Hey… my brother-in-law will love this!
882: Isle of Wight Festival
M: When I was a kid, I thought this was the “I Love White” Festival. Couldn’t ever figure that one out.
T: Huh? This seems so wong.
881: Gorillaz debut with Tomorrow Comes Today
M: The first of many “Damon Albarn’s side project debuts” on the list.
T: The Archies of the new millennium?
880: Jeff Buckley dies
M: If anything is just slightly less significant than the release of “Sugar, Sugar” this is surely it.
T: Tragic. Hope this isn’t beginning of a ghoul pool.
879: The Archies release “Sugar, Sugar”
M: Proof positive that Trip hacked the list and replaced the “Rick Wakeman breaks the 30-minute solo barrier” entry that belonged here.
T: Wow… the first single I ever bought. I unapologetically love this song – thanks Jughead!
878: Live at Budokan by Cheap Trick
M: Roughly 874 spots too low. “This next one I’m sure you all knoooow . . . “
T: Cheap Trick, In Color and Heaven Tonight better be on this list. Of course, any album containing “Surrender” is worthy.
877: Electric Light Orchestra release Face the Music
M: Nine seconds ago, I couldn’t have told you that ELO had an album called Face the Music. Isn’t “memorable” right in this countdown’s name?
T: On this album, ELO go for baroque.
876: WOMAD Festival
M: OMIGOD.
T: The first of 700 Peter Gabriel mentions.
875: Gram Parsons forms Flying Burrito Bros/The International Submarine Band in 1968
M: I think we’re confusing “memorable” with “important.” I’m sure that some of the Sub Band members don’t even recollect this.
T: This record sold like seven copies. But it’s Gram Parsons, and it’s got “Blue Eyes”, so cool beans.
874: Jerry Lee Lewis marries his 13-year-old cousin
M: We could fill this entire thing with the Killer’s marriages.
T: He didn’t marry her on his Labor Day telethon, did he?
873: Norah Jones sings “I Think It’s Going To Rain Today” at Higher Ground Benefit
M: I call bullshit. Ask 100 people if they remember this, get 100 blank stares.
T: Did this event actually happen? Randy Newman better pop up later for something besides “Short People”.
872: Pitchfork debuts
M: I rate this 5.4.
T: Pitchfork is to music as the Mets are to clutch.
871: The first wave of Ska
M: You ain’t seen comedy till you’ve seen me try to explain the difference between reggae and ska to my mom. I’ve yet to introduce the concept of the two-tone revival.
T: I knew there was a ska revival… this I didn’t know about.
870: Heavy Metal Parking Lot is released
M: “Beavis and Butthead” come to life, only the cartoon seems more plausible.
T: Jesse: Dude! You got a tattoo!
M: Ugh. What I feared. I can see it now. 722: Melanie releases “Brand New Key.” 649: Tony Orlando releases “Tie A Yellow Ribbon.” 511: The SLA releases Patti Hearst.
T: All right... Philly represents. But honestly, didn't the Beatles themselves have 885 more memorable musical moments than this song?
884: “The Time Has Come Today” becomes a hit for the Chambers Brothers
M: 883: “Time Has Come Today” slowly slides down the charts. 882: “Time Has Come Today” shows up on Rhino’s “Rockin’ Soul Hits of the 60s” compilation. 881: “Time Has Come Today” licensed for many, many commercials.
T: I would have voted it in for it’s devastating inclusion in Coming Home, one of the great post-Vietnam anti-war flicks.
883: “Shining Star” becomes Earth, Wind & Fire first and only #1 hit in the US
M: “Boogie Wonderland” was robbed.
T: Hey… my brother-in-law will love this!
882: Isle of Wight Festival
M: When I was a kid, I thought this was the “I Love White” Festival. Couldn’t ever figure that one out.
T: Huh? This seems so wong.
881: Gorillaz debut with Tomorrow Comes Today
M: The first of many “Damon Albarn’s side project debuts” on the list.
T: The Archies of the new millennium?
880: Jeff Buckley dies
M: If anything is just slightly less significant than the release of “Sugar, Sugar” this is surely it.
T: Tragic. Hope this isn’t beginning of a ghoul pool.
879: The Archies release “Sugar, Sugar”
M: Proof positive that Trip hacked the list and replaced the “Rick Wakeman breaks the 30-minute solo barrier” entry that belonged here.
T: Wow… the first single I ever bought. I unapologetically love this song – thanks Jughead!
878: Live at Budokan by Cheap Trick
M: Roughly 874 spots too low. “This next one I’m sure you all knoooow . . . “
T: Cheap Trick, In Color and Heaven Tonight better be on this list. Of course, any album containing “Surrender” is worthy.
877: Electric Light Orchestra release Face the Music
M: Nine seconds ago, I couldn’t have told you that ELO had an album called Face the Music. Isn’t “memorable” right in this countdown’s name?
T: On this album, ELO go for baroque.
876: WOMAD Festival
M: OMIGOD.
T: The first of 700 Peter Gabriel mentions.
875: Gram Parsons forms Flying Burrito Bros/The International Submarine Band in 1968
M: I think we’re confusing “memorable” with “important.” I’m sure that some of the Sub Band members don’t even recollect this.
T: This record sold like seven copies. But it’s Gram Parsons, and it’s got “Blue Eyes”, so cool beans.
874: Jerry Lee Lewis marries his 13-year-old cousin
M: We could fill this entire thing with the Killer’s marriages.
T: He didn’t marry her on his Labor Day telethon, did he?
873: Norah Jones sings “I Think It’s Going To Rain Today” at Higher Ground Benefit
M: I call bullshit. Ask 100 people if they remember this, get 100 blank stares.
T: Did this event actually happen? Randy Newman better pop up later for something besides “Short People”.
872: Pitchfork debuts
M: I rate this 5.4.
T: Pitchfork is to music as the Mets are to clutch.
871: The first wave of Ska
M: You ain’t seen comedy till you’ve seen me try to explain the difference between reggae and ska to my mom. I’ve yet to introduce the concept of the two-tone revival.
T: I knew there was a ska revival… this I didn’t know about.
870: Heavy Metal Parking Lot is released
M: “Beavis and Butthead” come to life, only the cartoon seems more plausible.
T: Jesse: Dude! You got a tattoo!
Chester: So do you, dude! Dude, what does my tattoo say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: "Sweet!" What about mine?
Chester: [angry] "Dude!" What does mine say?
Jesse: [screaming] "Sweet!"
869: R Crumb designs the Cheap Thrills album cover
M: The R stands for “random.”
T: Oh my god - this means that wackjob that designed all the hideous prog rock covers will get a top ten moment for Tormato.
868: Big Star release #1 Record
M: Big Star’s third-best album makes the list? I have a feeling that we could make a list of 885 other moments and no one could tell the difference.
T: I’ll just say… thanks for putting Big Star on any list.
867: Counting Crows release their debut album, August And Everything After
M: This is starting to remind me of Bubba Gump’s recitation of the ways to prepare shrimp.
T: Like a fine whine, this one has aged gracefully.
866: The “Roxanne” hip-hop wars
M: XPN’s target demo scratches its collective head.
T: It’s always treat to when “fuck” hits the public radio airwaves. Well, at least it happened during fund raising… so nobody heard it.
865: US festivals
M: Did I hear Michaela call this the “U.S. Festival”? Clearly, not everyone remembers.
T: Jeepers… I only remember a fat Ozzy from this bad boy.
864: Harry Belafonte records the “Banana Boat Song (Day-O)”
M: Our first entry referencing fruit. Perhaps the Osmonds’ version of “One Bad Apple” is yet to come.
T: Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! I was hoping to conjure up the countdown that makes sense appear.
863: John Fahey becomes the father of acoustic free-form guitar
M: Coincidentally, this is number one on the list of 885 Most Esoteric Musical Moments.
T: Certainly memorable for Mr. and Mrs. Fahey.
862: Island Records signs King Sunny Ade, tries to make Juju music from Nigeria the next Reggae
M: I have this record, and I love it, but is the abject failure to turn America on to Juju really all that memorable? Ranks with my high school efforts to make girls find me attractive.
T: 885 is a big number.
861: Pamela Des Barres writes “I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie”
M: Like “To Kill A Mockingbird,” with Jimmy Page as Boo Radley and a slutty girl as Atticus Finch. Sort of.
T: Here’s $100 that says her ex-husband, who actually made music, doesn’t finish in the top 885,000 mmmm.
860: Satanic Subliminal Messages
M. Ereh fo tuo kcuf eht teg.
T: Is this the PMRC list?
859: Pure Pop For Now People sets standard in new wave power pop
M: Well, this goes without saying.
T: OK… Jesus of Cool.
858: R. Kelly creates the “Trapped in the Closet” series
M: Senator Larry Craig’s theme song.
T: The underage sex thing… maybe. But nobody knows this series even happened.
857: The “Rock Lobster” dance craze
M: If this was a craze, this blog is a sensation.
T: First, I’ve never liked this song. Second, please stop playing it at every wedding I attend.
856: America: A Tribute to Heroes airs uninterrupted on all major networks
M: Let’s go snark-free for a minute. Springsteen’s reading of “My City of Ruins” opened the show and nearly stopped my heart.
T: I’m with Michael.
855: Bill Clinton chooses “Don’t Stop” as his campaign theme in 1992
M: Bill Clinton choosing “Baby Got Back” as his personal theme song must be coming up.
T: I thought this was his Monica Lewinsky dedication.
854: The Flaming Lips play the Peach Pit After Dark on Beverly Hills, 90210
M: This better not finish ahead of Suzi Quatro playing Arnold’s on “Happy Days.”
T: Really? The band that gave us Yoshimi and The Soft Bulletin are remembered for this?
853: Anthology of American Folk Music released
M: This was a hugely important moment in American ethnomusicology. I don’t know a single person who owns it.
T: The Gene Shay vote is in.
852: John Fogerty sued for “stealing” his own material
M: Saul Zaentz should get his own wing in the Hall of Very Stupid People.
T: It’s late, I think I’ll go plagiarize myself. I’ll be back in a minute.
851: King Records is founded in Cincinnati in 1943
M: If you knew that there ever was a King Records, raise your hand. Put down your hand, you big fat liar.
T: I gotta admit… this one feels like a real moment.
850: 16 Magazine hits newsstands
M: On a third grade questionnaire, I listed 16 Magazine as my favorite book. Not proud of that, either.
T: Since that magazine didn’t really have anything to do with music, maybe TV Guide will make the list too.
849: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band: The Movie released
M: Confession: When I first saw this movie (in fifth grade, on what passed for a date among eleven-year-olds), I had no idea there was a Beatles connection.
T: This album shipped double platinum, returned triple platinum. I miss the 70’s.
848: Noel Gallagher plays MTV Unplugged by himself
M: Not here because of Liam’s petulance, but because it marked the last time MTV played music.
T: Up next, the night Dave Davies lip synched solo on American Bandstand.
847: The Sounds of Sinatra with Sid Mark
M: I’m not from Philly, so I don’t know this, but I’m sure Frank sounded better on Sid’s show than anywhere else.
T: A radio show… this bodes well for a top 5 finish for The World Café.
846: The Roots of The Blues Brothers
M: I’m the Dan Aykroyd of Teenage Kicks, standing around and doing nothing while the other guy does the hard work.
T: Nothing says soul music like Dan Ackroyd in a pork pie hat.
845: Diana Ross Teams with Chic in 1980
M: I did not know until this moment that Bernard and Nile produced this record.
T: My personal mmm moment # 845 – Michael discovers that Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards produced Diana Ross.
844: Fela Kuti Forms Africa 70 in 1970
M: Trip is baffled, but I think it’s cool.
T: I’ve heard of him, so that’s memorable, right?
843: Fugazi form in 1987
M: I’m looking forward to breaking this out into categories. Where will this place in the all-time ranking of band formations? I bet that list is going to look silly.
T: $5.00 shows… these guys should go kick Sting’s ass.
842: Henry Mancini composes the theme to The Pink Panther
M: Anyone else have an overpowering urge to install fiberglass insulation?
T: Sirrrrr… that is not my list.
841: John Mayall forms The Bluesbreakers
869: R Crumb designs the Cheap Thrills album cover
M: The R stands for “random.”
T: Oh my god - this means that wackjob that designed all the hideous prog rock covers will get a top ten moment for Tormato.
868: Big Star release #1 Record
M: Big Star’s third-best album makes the list? I have a feeling that we could make a list of 885 other moments and no one could tell the difference.
T: I’ll just say… thanks for putting Big Star on any list.
867: Counting Crows release their debut album, August And Everything After
M: This is starting to remind me of Bubba Gump’s recitation of the ways to prepare shrimp.
T: Like a fine whine, this one has aged gracefully.
866: The “Roxanne” hip-hop wars
M: XPN’s target demo scratches its collective head.
T: It’s always treat to when “fuck” hits the public radio airwaves. Well, at least it happened during fund raising… so nobody heard it.
865: US festivals
M: Did I hear Michaela call this the “U.S. Festival”? Clearly, not everyone remembers.
T: Jeepers… I only remember a fat Ozzy from this bad boy.
864: Harry Belafonte records the “Banana Boat Song (Day-O)”
M: Our first entry referencing fruit. Perhaps the Osmonds’ version of “One Bad Apple” is yet to come.
T: Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! I was hoping to conjure up the countdown that makes sense appear.
863: John Fahey becomes the father of acoustic free-form guitar
M: Coincidentally, this is number one on the list of 885 Most Esoteric Musical Moments.
T: Certainly memorable for Mr. and Mrs. Fahey.
862: Island Records signs King Sunny Ade, tries to make Juju music from Nigeria the next Reggae
M: I have this record, and I love it, but is the abject failure to turn America on to Juju really all that memorable? Ranks with my high school efforts to make girls find me attractive.
T: 885 is a big number.
861: Pamela Des Barres writes “I’m With the Band: Confessions of a Groupie”
M: Like “To Kill A Mockingbird,” with Jimmy Page as Boo Radley and a slutty girl as Atticus Finch. Sort of.
T: Here’s $100 that says her ex-husband, who actually made music, doesn’t finish in the top 885,000 mmmm.
860: Satanic Subliminal Messages
M. Ereh fo tuo kcuf eht teg.
T: Is this the PMRC list?
859: Pure Pop For Now People sets standard in new wave power pop
M: Well, this goes without saying.
T: OK… Jesus of Cool.
858: R. Kelly creates the “Trapped in the Closet” series
M: Senator Larry Craig’s theme song.
T: The underage sex thing… maybe. But nobody knows this series even happened.
857: The “Rock Lobster” dance craze
M: If this was a craze, this blog is a sensation.
T: First, I’ve never liked this song. Second, please stop playing it at every wedding I attend.
856: America: A Tribute to Heroes airs uninterrupted on all major networks
M: Let’s go snark-free for a minute. Springsteen’s reading of “My City of Ruins” opened the show and nearly stopped my heart.
T: I’m with Michael.
855: Bill Clinton chooses “Don’t Stop” as his campaign theme in 1992
M: Bill Clinton choosing “Baby Got Back” as his personal theme song must be coming up.
T: I thought this was his Monica Lewinsky dedication.
854: The Flaming Lips play the Peach Pit After Dark on Beverly Hills, 90210
M: This better not finish ahead of Suzi Quatro playing Arnold’s on “Happy Days.”
T: Really? The band that gave us Yoshimi and The Soft Bulletin are remembered for this?
853: Anthology of American Folk Music released
M: This was a hugely important moment in American ethnomusicology. I don’t know a single person who owns it.
T: The Gene Shay vote is in.
852: John Fogerty sued for “stealing” his own material
M: Saul Zaentz should get his own wing in the Hall of Very Stupid People.
T: It’s late, I think I’ll go plagiarize myself. I’ll be back in a minute.
851: King Records is founded in Cincinnati in 1943
M: If you knew that there ever was a King Records, raise your hand. Put down your hand, you big fat liar.
T: I gotta admit… this one feels like a real moment.
850: 16 Magazine hits newsstands
M: On a third grade questionnaire, I listed 16 Magazine as my favorite book. Not proud of that, either.
T: Since that magazine didn’t really have anything to do with music, maybe TV Guide will make the list too.
849: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band: The Movie released
M: Confession: When I first saw this movie (in fifth grade, on what passed for a date among eleven-year-olds), I had no idea there was a Beatles connection.
T: This album shipped double platinum, returned triple platinum. I miss the 70’s.
848: Noel Gallagher plays MTV Unplugged by himself
M: Not here because of Liam’s petulance, but because it marked the last time MTV played music.
T: Up next, the night Dave Davies lip synched solo on American Bandstand.
847: The Sounds of Sinatra with Sid Mark
M: I’m not from Philly, so I don’t know this, but I’m sure Frank sounded better on Sid’s show than anywhere else.
T: A radio show… this bodes well for a top 5 finish for The World Café.
846: The Roots of The Blues Brothers
M: I’m the Dan Aykroyd of Teenage Kicks, standing around and doing nothing while the other guy does the hard work.
T: Nothing says soul music like Dan Ackroyd in a pork pie hat.
845: Diana Ross Teams with Chic in 1980
M: I did not know until this moment that Bernard and Nile produced this record.
T: My personal mmm moment # 845 – Michael discovers that Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards produced Diana Ross.
844: Fela Kuti Forms Africa 70 in 1970
M: Trip is baffled, but I think it’s cool.
T: I’ve heard of him, so that’s memorable, right?
843: Fugazi form in 1987
M: I’m looking forward to breaking this out into categories. Where will this place in the all-time ranking of band formations? I bet that list is going to look silly.
T: $5.00 shows… these guys should go kick Sting’s ass.
842: Henry Mancini composes the theme to The Pink Panther
M: Anyone else have an overpowering urge to install fiberglass insulation?
T: Sirrrrr… that is not my list.
841: John Mayall forms The Bluesbreakers
M: I’m getting bored already. When does this end?
T: Wait a second… an American radio station played a John Mayall song other than “Room to Move”. Now there’s a moment.
840: A New Generation Discovers Leonard Cohen in 1990
M: The inclusion of a Cohen song in a Christian Slater movie rates a spot? Trip holds out hope for the Rave-Ups appearing in that Molly Ringwald flick.
T: 21 people discovered Arthur Alexander from a Teenage Kicks post. We've got 839 chances left to place.
839: Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk by Legs McNeil
M: This has Bruce Warren’s fingerprints all over it. It’s like Oprah’s Book Club for geeks. And, yeah, I’ve read the book.
T: I know a guy who rents a house in Bucks County to Legs McNeil. Killer book. "It's such a gamble when you get a face".
838: Bye Bye Birdie hits movie theaters in April, 1963
M: I’m sure everyone knows this, but Conrad Birdie was modeled after a young Conway Twitty. Not everyone knows that I once guarded Mr. Twitty’s tour bus.
T: Ann Margaret is smokin’. And sheesh… how ‘bout playing “You Gotta Be Sincere”?
837: Luciano Pavarotti dies September 6, 2007
M: I’m betting that this is the most recent event on the list, unless Britney losing her kids somehow sneaks in.
T: I’ll never forget where I was the day the big man died. I was eating lunch at Genuardi’s.
836: Gene Autry records “Back in the Saddle Again”; makes it the theme for his radio show
M: I’m looking forward to Aerosmith records “Back in the Saddle Again,” makes it the theme for recovering junkie rock stars.
T: If anyone reading this remembers this moment (and congratulations on still being alive), sorry I wrote “fuck” earlier.
835: Michael Azerrad writes Our Band Could Be Your Life
M: Yeah, I’ve read this one, too. Ain’t proud of it.
T: I’ll take any excuse to hear Husker Du on the radio.
Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind?
Well, we weren't gonna, then we were gonna, and now we're kinda gonna. Of course, we resereve the right to change our mind ten more times.
Michael: A couple of years back, I heard some media expert twist Andy Warhol's most notorious line, saying that because of the Internet, in the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen people. Teenage Kicks cultivated its fifteen people of fame (more or less) last year for our running commentary on WXPN's 885 greatest artists countdown. So some people may be wondering whether we'll do the same thing for the 885 Most Memorable Musical Moments countdown. The answer is no, partly because (as we discovered through painful experience before) it's too damn excruciating to do. Really, where did we find the time and energy. The other problem is that this rather abstract concept is pretty hard to wrap our minds around. The early moments of the countdown inform us that the 842nd greatest moment was when Henry Mancini composed the "Pink Panther" theme, making it incrementally more memorable than the formation of Fugazi. I just don't know what to do with that. I don't have a problem with it, nor do I have any real grounds to snark it (and we're aware that our more snide reactions to the inclusion of some *cough, cough* "artists" last time around was what many people liked best).
And I've read Legs McNeil's Please Kill Me, but it never would have occurred to me to place it (number 839) ahead of the formation of Fela Kuti's Africa 70 (number 844). It's such an apples-to-orangutans comparison. Still, how fricking cool was it to hear Richard Hell's "Blank Generation" on the radio?
Trip: This countdown is fun to listen to, but it makes no sense. Because if The Hold Steady releasing three 4 to 5 star albums in three years (2004-2006) is not a mmmm and Michael McDonald joining the Doobies is, then I'll listen to a whole album of Frippertronics. But where else am I gonna hear Richard Hell, Big Star, John Fahey, Fela Kuti, Fugazi, Garth Brooks and Husker Du in the same day?
Actually, this list is begging for the right touch... I say we do 'em all... with a 15-20 word limit per entry. It seems impossible but I think I'm game.
M: All right, what the hell, let’s do it.
T: After 50, I say “Uncle”. How about some random entries?
And I've read Legs McNeil's Please Kill Me, but it never would have occurred to me to place it (number 839) ahead of the formation of Fela Kuti's Africa 70 (number 844). It's such an apples-to-orangutans comparison. Still, how fricking cool was it to hear Richard Hell's "Blank Generation" on the radio?
Trip: This countdown is fun to listen to, but it makes no sense. Because if The Hold Steady releasing three 4 to 5 star albums in three years (2004-2006) is not a mmmm and Michael McDonald joining the Doobies is, then I'll listen to a whole album of Frippertronics. But where else am I gonna hear Richard Hell, Big Star, John Fahey, Fela Kuti, Fugazi, Garth Brooks and Husker Du in the same day?
Actually, this list is begging for the right touch... I say we do 'em all... with a 15-20 word limit per entry. It seems impossible but I think I'm game.
M: All right, what the hell, let’s do it.
T: After 50, I say “Uncle”. How about some random entries?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Meet Me in the Morning (or else)
It's been a slow week here as we prepare for our wall-to-wall coverage of the release of Bruce Springsteen's Magic album (really, if we don't talk about it, who will?). To reward your patience, dear readers, we give you this ferocious live collaboration between Bob Dylan and Jack White on the Bard's "Meet Me in the Morning," one of my favorite tunes from Blood on the Tracks. It comes courtesy of Heather, who has all the details, but can it really be that this was the first time Dylan has ever played the song live? Wow.
Bob Dylan and Jack White, Meet Me in the Morning (live)
Bob Dylan and Jack White, Meet Me in the Morning (live)
Friday, September 21, 2007
It's "The Pina Colada Song" come to life
Admit it, back when you were grooving to Rupert Holmes's schmaltz classic, you thought "that could never happen." Guess again.
Sorry, honey, I forgot our anniversary
It occurs to me that Teenage Kicks recently had its first birthday, but neither of us noticed. How are we going to supplant Rolling Stone as the pinnacle of hipster cred if we don't continually celebrate our history with retrospective pieces? So here's a half-hearted effort. If you want to go back to the beginning, click here and here, but forgive the font colors, which were a victim of the site's epic redesign a few months back. And listen to these songs that Graham Parker and Roxy Music recorded especially for the occasion.
Graham Parker - Anniversary
Roxy Music - Sentimental Fool
Graham Parker - Anniversary
Roxy Music - Sentimental Fool
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Teenage Kicks Presents... "You Better Move On"
There are songs that once you hear them, they immediately feel like part of your DNA. When I first heard Arthur Alexander’s “You Better Move On”, it was on Mink DeVille’s extraordinary fourth cd, Coup de Grace. On this disc Willy DeVille finally found that elusive perfect mix of Spanish Harlem and Bowery cool. And “You Better Move On”, with its street corner harmonies, lilting guitar, gauzy marimbas and city slicker cool vocals made it not only the album’s centerpiece but a sweet tribute to the song’s author. I needed to investigate this guy.
Arthur Alexander was a giant… literally. Standing about 6’10”, this soul music titan in one cathartic moment birthed the legendary Muscle Shoals sound with the cautionary warning to a rival suitor, “You Better Move On”. His elegant mixture of simple backwoods country and deep fried southern soul caught the ears of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who and Bob Dylan – all who recorded his songs. After his early successes, Alexander struggled to cope with bad business deals and became disillusioned with the music industry. He was driving a bus in Cleveland for years when he was coaxed into returning to the studio via Elektra’s American Explorer series. Incredibly, the resulting album, Lonely Just Like Me, was an unqualified success. Just as he was reaping the rewards of his “second act” success, he died of heart failure in June 1993 in Nashville.
In a 1987 Billboard article, Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards related, "When the Beatles and the Stones got their first chances to record, one did 'Anna,' and the other did 'You Better Move On.' That should tell you enough!"
Arthur Alexander was a giant… literally. Standing about 6’10”, this soul music titan in one cathartic moment birthed the legendary Muscle Shoals sound with the cautionary warning to a rival suitor, “You Better Move On”. His elegant mixture of simple backwoods country and deep fried southern soul caught the ears of The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who and Bob Dylan – all who recorded his songs. After his early successes, Alexander struggled to cope with bad business deals and became disillusioned with the music industry. He was driving a bus in Cleveland for years when he was coaxed into returning to the studio via Elektra’s American Explorer series. Incredibly, the resulting album, Lonely Just Like Me, was an unqualified success. Just as he was reaping the rewards of his “second act” success, he died of heart failure in June 1993 in Nashville.
In a 1987 Billboard article, Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards related, "When the Beatles and the Stones got their first chances to record, one did 'Anna,' and the other did 'You Better Move On.' That should tell you enough!"
With the imminent release (October 9) of an updated and expanded version of Lonely Just Like Me: The Final Chapter it’s time for a rediscovery of the singular talent of Arthur Alexander. Here are three different takes on “You Better Move On”, with Alexander’s version taken from a 1993 Fresh Air performance.
XL
My buddy Brian, one of the smartest, funniest, best people I know, and a world-class husband, dad, friend and raconteur, turns 40 today. There are a million things you should know about him, but to accommodate this space, I’ll list just four:
1. He rose from the hardscrabble streets of Lincoln, Nebraska to conquer the world of securities law.
2. He once played trumpet in a band that later included Motley Crue’s Tommy Lee.
3. He can write a mutual fund prospectus that reads like epic fiction, with his recurring hero, good-hearted billionaire James McFluffernutter repeatedly vanquishing the evil forces of heavy-handed regulators.
4. Like me, he married way over his head.
So friends, please join me in raising a glass of Irish to one of the good guys on this milestone occasion.
Slainte, friend!
The Replacements – 20th Century Boy (live)
1. He rose from the hardscrabble streets of Lincoln, Nebraska to conquer the world of securities law.
2. He once played trumpet in a band that later included Motley Crue’s Tommy Lee.
3. He can write a mutual fund prospectus that reads like epic fiction, with his recurring hero, good-hearted billionaire James McFluffernutter repeatedly vanquishing the evil forces of heavy-handed regulators.
4. Like me, he married way over his head.
So friends, please join me in raising a glass of Irish to one of the good guys on this milestone occasion.
Slainte, friend!
The Replacements – 20th Century Boy (live)
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Trading Wings for Wheels
Whenever one of my most reverently-loved artists (Stones, Dylan, Springsteen) is set to release a new album, I find myself obsessing about the past, going back to the recordings I love best, reacquainting, preparing, reliving.
With Bruce Springsteen’s Magic due to land on October 2 (more on it later), I have delved into the past of rock and roll’s future, and I can’t stop listening. And it’s not Born to Run or Darkness on the Edge of Town that has me rapt. It’s an artifact simple, fascinating, commercially unavailable, and for me, completely mesmerizing.
Live at The Main Point, February 5, 1975.
The hard core fans, I’m sure, have been listening to this show for years. But I’m not much into bootlegs, and I became aware of it only a few weeks ago thanks to Heather at I am Fuel . . . who posted it in a zip file (go here to get it for yourself). Though there are a few of the audio problems inherent in recordings of dubious provenance (an otherwise hypnotic eighteen-minute “New York City Serenade” suffers), for the most part the sound (taken from a Philadelphia radio broadcast) is terrific, and the show can be enjoyed on its own as a kick-ass rock concert by a hungry band on the precipice of stardom, a two-and-a-half hour high wire act that can provide chills more than three decades later.
But it’s also a glimpse into the creative process. Born to Run, the album that changed everything for Springsteen, was more than six months from release, and its songs were incubating on stage that night. A perusal of old set lists suggests that four songs that would appear on the album made their live debut, including the title track, in its definitive form, having already been recorded with an E Street Band that included keyboardist David Sancious and drummer Ernest “Boom” Carter, who departed the previous August. But that song, a perfect studio creation, is rarely a revelation live, its dense construction not made for spontaneity. “Jungleland” and “She’s the One,” on the other hand, each presented as nearly complete works in progress, offer the band room to move. Still, undoubtedly, the real treasure here is the first performance of “Wings for Wheels,” which over the next few weeks would rather dramatically transform into “Thunder Road,” one of the Boss’s best-loved songs. In the documentary that accompanied the 30th anniversary edition of Born to Run, it’s striking just how hard the young Springsteen strives to create a monument massive and timeless. And that striving is on display with “Wings for Wheels,” which is brilliant as is. Only the rarest artist would take something so good and dismantle it hoping to achieve something better. But that’s exactly what Springsteen is in the process of doing here. (As an added bonus, “A Love So Fine,” a precursor to the treasured rarity “So Young and So in Love” also appears).
The most fascinating thing about the recording, though, may be the transformation happening within the band. Roy Bittan and Max Weinberg had joined just a few months earlier, violinist/vocalist Suki Lahav was nearing the end of her brief tenure, and Steven Van Zandt had not yet joined. The band was completing a shift from the soaring, jazzy sound propelled by Sancious and original drummer Vini Lopez, to a hard, grounded R&B that was all open road and Detroit muscle. Nowhere is the transformation more apparent than on “E Street Shuffle,” a signature song for the previously-configured band. On The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle, Springsteen’s second album, the song swings and dances, feinting and charging like a fit welterweight over the band’s polyrhythms and Springsteen’s playful approach. At the Main Point, though, the song spins around the Bittan/Weinberg axis and turns slow and serious as Springsteen quotes Sam Cooke and the band channels Van Morrison, the Impressions and Booker T & the MGs, trading speed for power, wings for wheels. This is the band we know best, the one we seem to have known forever. But to hear them in this context is to hear the Beatles at the Cavern Club or Elvis at Sun Studios. It is to hear sparks fly on E Street.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Dying is easy, comedy is hard
I didn't watch the Emmys last night (didn't even know they were on), but I saw this today and chortled.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Teenage Kicks Presents... Ike Reilly Assassination
We've stumbled upon an idea to bring you, our faithful reader(s?), more incentive to visit us. It's simple really... more music. So today is the first in a series cleverly titled, Teenage Kicks Presents...We'll start with Ike Reilly - a verbose, profanely funny, hook happy beat punk who fronts the self-mythologizing Ike Reilly Assassination. Having recently released what is possibly a carrer best disc (it's a dead heat with 2001's Salesmen and Racists), 2007's We Belong to The Staggering Evening should find its way on to many year end top 10 lists.
"Valentine's Day in Juarez" is a Dylan-esque sing-song chronicle of a lost Mexican weekend featuring a litany of artificial stimulants that fueled the reverie. A little "Rainy Day Women", a little "Stuck Inside of Mobile Wiht the Memphis Blues Again".
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Two earlier songs, both exuberant celebrations and condemantions of pop culture and doomed romance. Exhilarating stuff. And in case you're not convinced, the IRA is also my 10 year old son's favorite band.
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"Baby... you been on my mind."
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mp3 - Valentine's Day in Juarez (We Belong to The Staggering Evening)
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