As difficult as it is for me to do, I'm not going to say anything at all about these songs because I don't want to influence your reaction to them in any way.
So, without any prompting from me, please choose Track 1 and press "play"*:
Big Daddy - "St. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" etc (1992)
(*Just try saying the phrase "please press play" out loud with a mouthful of peas at a dinner party – you'll find yourself thrown out of that party in no time.)
Do you remember "Summer Breeze", the 70's AM soft-rock hit by Seals & Crofts which starts off with that tune played by a toy piano and something else*? You do? Excellent.
If you've forgotten that opening tune, or in the (extremely unlikely) event that you haven't even heard it before, here's a reminder:
Here's where the date matters. That Hollies song appeared on their album Romany which was released three months later in November 1972. Yep, only three months.
By the way, you can hear the similarity to the "Summer Breeze" tune much more clearly in Carla Olson's version of "Touch":
Full confession time: I noticed the similarity when I heard Carla Olson's version of "Touch", not the original by The Hollies. (I actually didn't know about that Hollies song at all until I heard Carla's version on the Hollies tribute album, Sing Hollies In Reverse).
For anyone outside of Australia reading this, you may find the facts surrounding this song hard to believe.
This song went to number four on the Australia charts in 1981. It was the title track of Billy's album which, incomprehensibly, went to number one on the albums chart.
I love that song, but I have no idea why it (and the album) went zooming up the charts – and stayed there – in 1981. I mean, this was the era of big synthesizers, even bigger hair, vocalists sounding like robots, grown men wearing Spandex in public etc etc.
I am extremely glad that the Australian music-buying public occasionally confounds expectations by putting a song like "Bad Habits" in the Top 10. (Please see this post for another example of the Australian music-buying public sending to the top of the charts a song you wouldn't expect to go there.)
Link Excellent! I've heard about Mountain, but never actually heard any of their music until now. (They were one of those heavy rock bands from America that nobody bothered to play on Australian radio.) Now that I'm listening to it, I can say that I think this is the ultimate Hairy Rocker song. "Never In My Life" seems to be the perfect example as to why music of the early 70's tends to be either loved or loathed, with no middle ground. I'm in the love-it camp. And I can see why someone would hate his song – it's Big, Loud, and Dumb. But that's exactly why I love it. There's absolutely no pretension to it whatsoever. It just is what it is. (Big, Loud, and Dumb.) And as I was typing that last sentence, the song faded out. Nooooooooo! That finished way too soon. Time to play it again. But louder this time.
Link I've heard very little of Procol Harum (dribs and drabs here and there), but I like very much what I heard over the years. I just never got around to buying any of their stuff. So I guess I can call myself a Procol Harum fan with no Procol Harum albums. Now to "Whisky Train". For a prog-rock band, Procol Harum sure aren't sounding very proggy here. They're sounding very bluesy-rocky. That's probably because of the band's guitarist Robin Trower and his "I love Jimi Hendrix, and I can sound just him!" inclinations. I'm listening to "Whisky Train" at the moment, and enjoying it, but I can't quite figure out why the keyboardist (presumably Gary Brooker) gave his piano the ol' thumbtacks-on-the-hammers treatment. But that didn't stop me enjoying the song. Though not as much as the Mountain song above. (Love that Mountain song. Big! Loud! Dumb!)
Uninteresting sidenote: If you had suggested Procol Harum's "Conquistador" instead of "Whisky Train", this part of my comments today would have been a whole lot longer. I adore "Conquistador", totally and unconditionally, ever since I heard it on a jukebox in a pub years and years ago. It blew my mind.
Link I know next to nothing about Shawn Colvin. I haven't played the song yet, so I don't know what I'm letting myself in for. As far as I'm aware, he's a sort of contemporary folk singer, isn't he? At least I think he is. Well, there you go – I've just discovered that Shawn Colvin is a female. Oops. Sorry about that, Shawn. OK. Now to the song. Shawn's voice (and the song) reminds me a lot of Deb Talan's in the folk-pop-folk duo The Weepies.
Another uninteresting sidenote: when I first heard The Weepies second album, Say I Am You (2006) I fell hopelessly in love with it. Here are the first three tracks from the album to give you an idea of why I fell hopelessly in love with Say I Am You:
[Non-Frank tracks] The Weepies - Say I Am You(2006): Track 1: "Take It From Me"
But back to the song (again). I think "Polaroids" is a nice enough song. But I thought Shawn overused the main melody in the verse. However, I really like how the song was produced. There are some lovely little production touches throughout the track (little pedal steel guitar asides, and some sort of ship's-horn-in-the-distance kind of sound near the end of the song). I think that's what I like most about this song: how it sounds. The acoustic guitars, the bass guitar, the brushes on the drums etc, the discreet use of synthesizer – it all sounds great, and it's all used sparingly and with wonderful taste. Now, that's something you don't how a lot of nowadays in records: taste. Overall, I've liked this song the more I listened to it. Nice. (But I'd much rather listen to The Weepies.)
Link I'm one of those people who has been a lifelong fan of Van Halen. No, that's not strictly true. I've been a David-Lee-Roth-long fan of Van Halen. Interest in them tapered rather quickly when thingy joined. I've forgotten his name. That red-haired guy. Um. Ah. Hang on... Yes, that's it: Sammy Hagar. (Thank you, Internet.) I started losing interest in Van Halen when Sammy joined the band – although I did like 5150 and, to a lesser extent, OU812. After that, though, I stopped listening to them completely. I must admit that I only ever got around to buying two Van Halen albums: Diver Down and 1984. (Diver Down is probably my favourite solely because of "Little Guitars".) The others I borrowed and taped (hooray for cassettes!). But none of this is letting you know what I think of "Secrets". It took me a moment to realise that "Secrets" is on Diver Down (as in: "Hmm, I think 'Secrets' is on Diver Down. I'll just saunter on over to the CD collection and check... Yep, it's on Diver Down. Good-o."). Okey dokey. I like "Secrets", although I've always been mildly puzzled by how mild it is (for a Van Halen track). Actually, I reckon if you had suggested any other song from Diver Down I would have gone "Yeah! Van Halen! Rockin' out! Yeah!" – but you didn't, so I won't. I will say that although I like "Secrets", it's probably my least favourite track on Diver Down. Oh, and seeing as you've suggested a Van Halen track, I'd like to take this opportunity to vent my spleen on one aspect of Van Halen that I've always found absolutely horrendous: their drum sound. I think Van Halen's drum sound is simply dreadful. Always has been – and probably always will be. (I think it's one of those constants in the music universe.) And because I've just mentioned that I think Van Halen's drum sound is dreadful, I'd also like to mention Queen's drum sound. I think that's horrendous, too. But I'm pleased to say that Queen and Van Halen are the only two bands I know of that have monumentally awful drum sounds.
Link Splendid. (I wanted to say "excellent" but I've already used that word.) For me, this is the kind of pillaging-the-classics tune that's on the right side of cheesy. (That is, on the fun side – not the "that's horrible!" side). It helps that the artists involved pinched a great tune (which isn't difficult to do, because classical music is full of great tunes – which reminds me to play you some sometime). I'm extremely familiar with Apollo 100's "Joy", as it's on that mammoth Have A Nice Day: Super Hits Of The '70s 25-disc set I rabbited on about a while ago. (In case you're wondering, "Joy" is Disc 7, Track 9). I don't know if I need to mention the classical tune that Apollo 100 nicked for their track (Johann Sebastian Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring"), because you probably know that anyway. Regardless, I'm glad you suggested "Joy". I think it's a heap of musical fun. By the way, another rock musician filched Bach's tune, and I mentioned it in a previous post on the blog.
The huge advantage of playing you that cover version is this: it gives me the perfect excuse to play you the original, which I adore more than you could possible know:
One of the advantages of having a blog is that whenever I buy a CD I can tell people about it and a play a song or two from it.
One of the disadvantages of reading a blog is that you'll occasionally be accosted by some nitwit who's bought a CD and wants to tell you about it, thinking that you'd be even remotely interested in it.
By the way, I bought a CD recently...
Here's a splendid, splendid song from my favourite Squeeze album, the recently remastered (i.e., it sounds better and has more songs on it) Deluxe Edition of Argy Bargy*:
Kicking off the Deluxe Edition's second disc is an enthusiastic radio ad for the album. The chap speaking is Squeeze's super-enthusiastic pianist, Jools Holland:
(*For all you pedantic Squeeze fans** out there, the real name of the album is Argy Bargy, not Argybargy. I'd always thought it was one word – i.e., Argybargy – because that's what I see on the album cover, but Squeeze's official website has it listed in its store as Argy Bargy, and throughout the booklet that came with my CD it says Argy Bargy. So, just in case anyone asks, the album is called Argy Bargy.)
Yesterday's Song of the day was a 1959 blues song called "Just A Little Bit " updated just a little bit for Australian youngsters by groovemeister Tony Worsley and his backing band of hipsters The Blue Jays. Their version was based on Rosco Gordon's 1960 version of "Just A Little Bit", and is built around this riff:
Because there's a fairly slim chance that P.McC. heard Tony Worsley's version, this is what Paul McCartney may or may not have heard somewhere around 1960:
I'll try to make the (very dull) reasons for today's post as short as possible:
Australia has a national (i.e., government funded) free-to-air television station called ABC Television (like the BBC in Britain, or whatever the American equivalent is – if America has one).
ABC Television has a weekly music video program called rage (lowercase "r" deliberate) that's shown overnight every weekend (Friday night/Saturday morning, and Saturday night/Sunday morning).
All this month rage has been showing old shows from its archives. The ABC does it every January, and calls it "rage goes retro".
One of the programs rage has been showing is Countdown, which was the Australian weekly TV music program for teens in the 70's and 80's. It played both Australian and overseas acts, and was instrumental (pun semi-intended) in launching the careers of plenty of artists (including ABBA – yay!).
Last weekend rage played some of those old Countdown episodes. One of them was from December 20, 1981, and the episode was called "Australian Made in 1981". It featured only Australian artists.
One of the Australian acts on the episode was a band from Perth that I'd completely forgotten about (and you've probably never heard of).
The band was The Prefects, and the song they played mimed to on the Countdown episode was called "Wait Until Midnight".
I saw (and heard) it and thought "Yeah, I reckon that'd go well on the blog. I think people will enjoy it as much as I did. I'll see if I can rustle up an MP3 of it from somewhere."
I found an MP3 of it, but the sound quality was pretty awful. It sounded like a very low quality rip from that Countdown episode.
Due to the awfulness of that MP3 I decided instead to whip out some video and audio programs, convert the broadcast into something you can see (and hear), and present it to you that way.
Boy, that was a lot of nonsense just to let you know that I found a song you might like.
Anyway, here are The Prefects with a song I saw and enjoyed last weekend:
The Prefects - "Wait Until Midnight" (1981) [Update: The MP3 that was originally here came from the video, but thanks to fabulously helpful commenter "ososober" who has the song in his collection, that's here instead. Woohoo! Thanks, ososober.]
If you're wondering why the remake sounds nothing like the original, it's probably because Tony Worsley's version was modelled on another remake of the song. It's by the American blues shouter Rosco Gordon, recorded a year after the original:
I must admit that this coincidence stuns me. It involves an obscure 1974 song by English rock institution Status Quo and the 1976 Australian rock anthem "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again" by Australian rock institution The Angels. (Yep, they're Australian.)
I had no idea about the 'coincidence' until regular visitor David of Williamstown (Hi, David!) told me this:
I found it via the excellent book Blood, Sweat and Beers: Oz Rock from the Aztecs to Rose Tattoo by Murray Engleheart. He said that back in the 70's, an Adelaide DJ had suggested the 'new' Angels song "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again" sounded a bit similar to a Status Quo B-Side called "Lonely Night".
I'm extremely grateful to David (thanks, David!) for pointing me in the direction of those two songs.
I'm very familiar with The Angels' song – as are most Australian rock fans – but had never heard the earlier Status Quo track (it was the B-side of the 1974 single "Break The Rules"), so when I listened to the Quo song...
Well, this is what I said to David:
I am completely and utterly gobsmacked, flabbergasted, astounded, amazed, incredulous etc.
When the singing started, my jaw dropped. (And I don't mean that as a phrase people like to use. It actually dropped.) When the chorus came on, my jaw dropped even more.
I sat there listening to the Quo song, finding it hard to believe what I was actually listening to, and thinking to myself "That's grounds for plagiarism right there." About half-way through the song I finally said something out loud. I quietly uttered the word "Wow". (In this case, "wow" doesn't mean "great". It means "This is the second-most blatant musical rip-off I have ever heard." It also means "I can't believe no-one has sued The Angels yet.")
And now to the songs:
The Angels - "Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again" (1976)
Link Del Amitri were known here in Australia for primarily one song (which was a hit), and it's a song that I can't remember the name of at the moment. Hang on... I've consulted the Internet (thank you, Internet), and the song is "Kiss This Thing Goodbye", which I never liked much. (Maybe it was a blues-pop song that wasn't quite poppy enough or bluesy enough for me.) Nevertheless, I hardly remember "Kiss This Thing Goodbye" (I had a quick five-second refresher course courtesy of YouTube), so I can quite confidently approach this previously-unheard-by-me* song by Del Amitri with (relatively) fresh ears. I'm now listening to "Always The Last To Know", and I'm not enjoying it much. I dare say that because it's a "rootsy" pop song, you'd enjoy it much more. As you may be aware (I've probably moaned about it plenty of times already), I'm not a fan of "rootsy". I know that Del Amitri are from Scotland (thanks again, Internet), but I'd slot this song in with Steve Earle and all those other roots rockers you've suggested to me in the past (my mind has inconveniently blocked the names of all of them from my memory). I've listened to "Always The Last To Know" my minimum three times now, but even after three times it doesn't do much at all for me I'm afraid. I did like it a little more by the third hearing, but not by much. (However, I don't think that I'll keep liking it more with each listen and end up loving it after the 927th time). Despite my lack of enthusiasm for this song, Del Amitri, and roots rock in general, I will say that I think the song's well done. But feel free to keep sending me those rootsy/rocky songs – I may end up liking one of them. (Ever the optimist.)
[*That sounds a little pretentious to me. I'll try not to sound pretentious from now on.]
Link Hooray! I didn't think anybody would have remembered The Babys. "Isn't It Time" was a huge hit in Australia (and it caused me to buy their first two albums which I still love, despite them sounding a bit cheesier now than when I first listened to them at the ages of 15 and 16), but it's hardly ever played on the radio here nowadays. I don't know why. I also don't know why The Babys aren't mentioned more in other places as well, such as music magazines and blogs. (Why are there so many musical mysteries?) Anyway, back to the song. I think that pretty much every aspect of this song is of a very high standard. The song's construction (i.e., the melodies, chord choices, verse/chorus ratio etc) is superb, the playing is fabulous, the singing is even more fabulous (John Waite – yeah!), and the entire production is huge in that wonderful Bob Ezrin, bombastic style that I really enjoy. Yep – as soon as I've finished listening to all of your suggestions for this week, I'm going to listen The Babys' first two albums again. Love those albums (especially the second one, Broken Heart).
Link I know very little about Buddy Miles. This is the sum total of what I know: Buddy Miles played with Jimi Hendrix. That's it. Now, to the song. I'm sure that I haven't ever heard this before, but I'm also sure that I have heard that opening riff before. (Maybe I have heard this song before). I've gotten to the guitar solo, and I'm please to say that it continues the time-honoured Funk tradition: All Funk Songs Must Have A Guitar Solo Where The Guitar Sounds Awful. Excellent. Oh, I think I know where I've heard that opening riff: I'll have to consult YouTube, but that riff sounds like it may have originally come from a Jimi Hendrix song – "Pali Gap" maybe. Pardon me while I go into dog-with-a-bone mode...
Nope. It's not "Pali Gap", but it is something from one of Jimi's posthumous albums (I had a couple of them on LP but don't have 'em anymore). Hang on a little longer...
Found it! It's called "Changes", and it's on Jimi's Band Of Gypsys album. The Wikipedia page for the album lists the track as "Changes" ("Them Changes") (Buddy Miles). Uh, that makes sense. (Note to self: it's the same song, you idiot.)
OK. Back to the song.
It's certainly funkier than the earlier version by Jimi. I think I prefer Buddy's version. Update: now that I've heard it a few times, I definitely prefer it to Jimi's version. I like the funk drumming, and I love the singing (including some superb screams). Thanks for suggesting this. And sorry for wasting your time as I went off to find out where I'd heard that opening riff before.
Link Quite coincidentally, I've been listening to a fair bit of The Monkees recently. I acquired their first six albums (with three of them released in 1967 – talk about productive) and a two-disc compilation called The Definitive Monkees (2001). I haven't listened to them all yet, but I've thoroughly enjoyed what I've heard so far. I was never much of a Monkees fan, although I watched their TV show as a kiddy (and enjoyed it). I just never followed them as I got older. Until now, that is. "Valleri" is like a lot of the other Monkees songs I've heard recently: simply great pop. Sorry, I'll make that sound more impressive: Simply Great Pop. And those guitar fills are magnificent. The producers of this song got their money's worth with the session guitarist who provided those supersonic guitar solos. (Wikipedia tells me that the guitarist was Louis Shelton. I'm now a fan of Louis Shelton. Incidentally, Wikipedia also tells me that Louis Shelton currently lives in Australia. Splendid. By the way, Mr. Shelton has his own website, and he calls himself Louie. I don't mind one bit. I'm a fan of Louie Shelton, too. What a guitarist.)
Link I have no idea who or what El Bimbo is. When I saw the band's name I thought it sounded like it'd be a good name for a power pop band. (At least I'm hoping it's a power pop band.) I also thought that Bimbo Jet would be a fairly rare kind of band, too, and not much information about them would be available. I was pleasantly wrong. With expectant fingers on the keyboard, I typed "Bimbo Jet" and hoped for the best. Well, colour me "amazed". I found out straight away that there's a Wikipedia article about them. Fabulous. And I laughed out loud when I was informed by Wikipedia that Bimbo Jet were a French disco group. French Disco. (I guess they're not a power pop band, then. Ah, well.) Okey dokey. It's time to put my listening ears on...
Oh, dear. What a galumphing piece of music this is. It's that sort of early 70's French soundtrack music to an early 70's ultra-modern French movie (I think it might be more appropriate to use the phrase "ultra-chic" instead). There were parts of it that made me laugh (for example, the wah-wah guitar in the right channel, and those dreadful wordless vocals singing along with the synthesizer tune), but overall it's one of those "In the bin!" songs for me. As I typed that, I heard some chap talking in the song. Now he's whooping, and saying rather strange things. This song is even more of an "In the bin!" song for me now. Although I'm finding it truly awful, there is a certain kitschy charm to it. Although I'm going to listen to this three times (I have to – it's a personal rule I have with music that's been suggested to me), I don't think I'll be listening to it any more times than that. In the bin!
Postscript to the above song: I've listened to the song three times now (in a row), and have come to the conclusion that if you want to send someone mad, lock them in a room and play "El Bimbo" to them over and over again.
Postscript to the above postscript: I'm really hoping that nobody is ever locked in a room and forced to listen to "El Bimbo" over and over again.
The weather's rather warm where I am at the moment (South Australia), so I thought I'd play you a nice summery song, full or references to heat, sunshine, beaches etc.
I know that playing this song may be a bit insensitive of me, because you may currently be living somewhere that's in the grip of a snowstorm, or a blizzard, or some other wintry horror that you're not enjoying at all. I also know that playing you a summery song probably won't make you feel any warmer if you are in the grip of that snowstorm, blizzard etc wherever you are. It'll be cold comfort* for you... but, short of me waking up tomorrow morning and discovering that I've become a Weather God and can bestow upon you a miraculous change in the weather, this song will have to do:
By the way, the estimable John Borack, a music critic and power pop nerd extraordinaire, reckons "Shy Girl" was a great single:
SPIN IT ON – 25 essential indie power pop 45s
By John M. Borack
With the advent of the do-it-yourself movement ("do" ofen meaning write, perform, record and release) during the mid-70s, a brave new world was unleashed upon consumers of popular music. No longer were record buyers forced to rely upon major labels and Rolling Stone to be their musical eyes and earsl independent imprints with curious names such as Bomp, Stiff and Ork sprng up semingly from out of nowhere, while fanzines and magazines that championed the musical underdog came fast and furious.
Nowhere was the DIY/indie boom more prevalent than in the world of pop and power pop. With visions of the Fab Four, Badfinger and Raspberries dancing in their heads, many artists pumped out two-and-a-half-minute bits of pop heaven like there was no tomorrow. The following list is one writer's opinion of 25 of the best independent pop 45s that have ever graced a turntable (remember turntables?) {Yup, they still make 'em; 45s too! – Ed.}, along with a few relatively unknown European issues that were lucky enough to see major label release across the pond (yes, that's cheating).
1. Beathoven – "Shy Girl"/"Does It Matter As Much To You" (Australian EMI, 1978). One of the great, lost pop acts of the late '70s, Beathoven (who later changed their moniker to The Innocents) released a few great Aussie-only singles that combined lush harmonies with perky melodies. "Shy Girl" was very good teeny-pop, but the sublime "Does It Matter As Much To You" is even better, a beautifully stirring, string-laden ballad with echoes of prime Paul McCartney material.
Here's my favourite band of the 21st century with a song that moves effortlessly through a few different styles before you realise that you've just listened to about three songs in one:
I reckon the guitar work on that track is "smokin' hot". (I think that's the phrase people use to describe music that's energetic and well-played.)
Trivia time: Mickey Finn were an Adelaide band that began life in 1970 as a Sydney hippy prog rock band called Fraternity. Fraternity relocated to Adelaide in 1971 and went through a pile of line-up changes over the years (as well as changing its name a couple of times) until it ended up as blues rock band Mickey Finn in 1980. And one year later, they broke up. Ah, the music industry.
