Football/Soccer: The Victory Song 1993

[purchase]

If you had told the young me that I’d be a huge soccer fan at this point in my life, I would have looked at you a bit dumbfounded. Unlike today, when millions of kids around the country at least try soccer, when I was growing up, in my part of the New York suburbs, soccer was a game mostly played by the children of German and Italian immigrants. In junior high school, I had played fall tennis, but when I moved to high school, there was no fall team. A friend suggested that I try out for the soccer team, because they needed big guys to play defense. So, I did.

It must not have been hard to make the team, because I was inexplicably not cut, and spent the next two fall seasons practicing and mostly watching my teammates play from the bench. Occasionally, usually when my father showed up at the games, the coach gave me a sympathy run out on the field, including one memorable stint at forward, where I had a pretty epic collision with the opposing keeper. It was fun, but when I injured my leg before my junior season, and with no real prospects to ever play for the varsity team, I hung up my cleats for what I believed was the last time. Remarkably, at my 35th high school reunion last year, I spent a surprising amount of time with my former soccer teammates.

When I went off to college, I found out that Princeton has a fun event, Cane Spree, deriving from a quaint 19th century tradition where freshman and sophomores would brawl over the use of walking sticks (really). By the time I was there, it had morphed into a day-long intramural competition between the two classes, but if I recall, varsity athletes were barred from playing their sports. Somehow, I found myself playing Cane Spree soccer, out of shape, unpracticed and frankly pathetically. And after the game, I figuratively hung up my cleats for what I believed was the last time (since I didn’t actually have cleats).

Following the flameout of the NY Cosmos and the collapse of the North American Soccer League, the soccer landscape was pretty bleak in this country through the 1980s. Then, the US was awarded the 1994 World Cup, which led to an actual uptick in interest. It also roughly coincided with my son getting to the age where he could join AYSO. Soccer is, in many ways, the best game for little kids to play, since they can run around and kick a ball much easier than they can hit a baseball, even off a tee, or shoot a ball into a hoop. We signed him up, and I agreed to be an assistant coach, because that’s what dads do.

I fell in love with the game.

First, I fell in love with coaching the kids and the socializing with their parents on the sidelines. I started to take coaching classes and read books and websites about coaching kids. We started attending local minor league games, and went to see the MetroStars (who became the Red Bulls). Within a short time, I found myself as the assistant commissioner of our local region, then commissioner and then area director for essentially the county. My family started going to AYSO meetings and conventions around the country, and both of my kids were enthusiastic players. My wife organized our local soccer camp, and it felt like soccer was sort of our family business. It was a great way for us to do something that we all enjoyed as a family. I even started to play in the occasional pickup game. I was still terrible, but it was fun.

But even into the early 2000s, soccer was still hard to find on television. Even with the great Women’s World Cup victory of 1999 (my family was at the opening matches at Giants Stadium), and the men’s surprisingly fine showing at the 2002 World Cup, MLS games were not easy to find, European and South American games were rarely available (at least in English), and there was no streaming available on the slow Internet of the day. Due to our soccer camp work, we hosted young, mostly English, coaches, some of whom played at the lower levels of the English system, and we were able to follow a few of their careers on the web (and still do).

In 2001, my soccer loving son decided to do an independent study project for his enrichment class on English football, and using my abilities to wrangle the myriad filesharing sources of dubious legality then available, I found enough football songs to create a CD to use as background music for his presentation. Without a doubt, the worst of these songs is the one in the video above, which commemorates the Arsenal F.A. Cup winners of 1993 (but the video features a very different group of Gunners). Really—listen to it and revel in its awfulness.

A couple of years later, our cable system started carrying what was then the Fox Soccer Channel, featuring regular English Premier League games. My son and I decided that we needed to pick a team to support. Considering that most of the US teams that we root for are generally disappointing, we felt like this gave us a clean slate to pick a good team to support. We considered Manchester United, but they were at the time in a marketing arrangement with the hated Yankees, so they were out. Chelsea was in the process of buying themselves to prominence, which we didn’t approve of. Arsenal, though—they played attractive soccer, weren’t crazy spenders, and had some wonderful players, including Thierry Henry (now the Red Bulls captain). We picked them, and that season they were The Invincibles. Of course, since then, it has been a somewhat more painful experience.

And speaking of painful experiences, a year or so ago, as part of an attempt to improve my health and fitness, I started playing soccer again. I’m still bad, but improving, and I’m lucky to play with a group of very supportive guys who don’t bust my chops about my lack of skill and fitness. My cleats are in a bag, now, by the front door, and I don’t expect to hang them up for a while.

Football/Soccer : That's the Way the Ball Rolls

The Rumour: That's the Way the Ball Rolls

[Purchase]

   After 15 heroic saves, US goalie Tim Howard's block party had to end some time, and in the third minute of extra time it did when Belgium's Kevin De Bruyne found the net.

    By that point everyone in the office had stopped working to watch the match on TV. Yes, there was work to be done. Deadlines to be met. But why tidy up a presentation when history was unfolding before our eyes? We gathered around the screen. Some wore scarves. We prided ourselves it using words like "match", "pitch" and "nil". But when Romelu Lukaku made it 2-0, most of us walked back to our cubicles, tossing our scarves on to the floor.

    And then we heard Jim.

   "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL!" Jim held that note for at least 30 seconds longer than Bill Withers did with "DAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY" on "Lovely Day". His face turned as red as rare steak. And then he gave in to a coughing fit.

    I walked up to Jim, ready to present him with a yellow post it note, the closest our office had to a yellow card,  when I realized the US was really back in the game. 19-year-old Julian Green scored on his first touch, making  it 2-1 in the 107th minute.

    Again we gathered by the TV to "ooh" and "ahh", to cheer and to groan and ultimately to see the dream end. Sometimes the ball rolls where you aim it. Sometimes a keeper robs you at the last possible moment, Clint Dempsey.

    For every time that's happened here are ten opportunities to make fun of goalies.

   And now to the subject of the song choice

Coming off their best album together, Squeezing Out Sparks, Graham Parker gave his backing band "That's the Way the Ball Rolls" for the Rumour's third album, 1980's Purity of Essence. At the time The Rumour was made up of legendary pub rockers Brinsley Schwarz  (Brinsley Schwarz), Martin Belmont (Ducks Deluxe), Andrew Bodnar and Steve Golding. There were two separate recordings of the album. One for the UK and a second for the US. The US version doesn't have "That's the Way the Ball Rolls", but you get the Glenn Tilbrook-penned "Depression" and a cover of "Rubber Band Man".

FOOTBALL/SOCCER : ROD STEWART

I bloody hate football, me. I suppose I ought to be ashamed of myself, as a brit, but, there, I've said it now.

The beautiful game is a waste of energy to me, and all the fuss and hyperbole leaves me cold. Furthermore, like the Charles Addams cartoon above, am I the only person over here enjoying the ignominy of the english early bath after 3 lack-lustre games? (Or so I heard, as I was certainly not going to waste our current glorious weather in front of a TV. And it is wonderful to walk and drive through the deserted streets of this country whilst the games are on.) In truth I was going to give this theme a miss, but I have belatedly been stung into prose by newcomer JJ's reminder of the horror referred to below, when my glorious Lindisfarne sullied their name and reputation with the travesty unwound in his piece. So how can I take away that flavour, yet stick within a theme with no resonance for me? And then it came to me: Roderick David Stewart, football trialist (failed) for Brentford F.C.

Now, in fairness, I am not that keen on Rod Stewart either, at least not these days. But there was a time when he could do no wrong. Ignore his ghastly gargles through the Great American Songbook and, more recently, Motown. Forget even the Britt Ekland  silk and satin years and beyond. (Do you think I'm sexy?No.Not one iota.) I refer to the gravel voiced guttersnipe, busking his way around Europe, before blagging his way into Steampacket, a multi-voiced venture with Long John Baldry, featuring also the then husband and wife, Julie Driscoll and Brian Auger. From CND sympathising folkie, Rod was now morphing into "Rod the Mod". A spell in the Jeff Beck Group led him into contact with longterm partner in mischief, Ron Wood. Upon the dissolution of the Small Faces, Ron Wood stopped their ship from sinking, as replacement for Steve Marriott, drafting in his old mucker on vocals. The rest is, as they say, history, with Stewart having dual success with the (no longer Small)Faces and with his own solo career. I loved those first 4 or 5 Faces LPs and his contemporaneous solo work, feeling his mojo became lost as he left the former to concentrate on the latter. One was tempted to ask him, as he became a megastar, where, Rod, did it all go so wrong? (On a football related note, this was often the question asked of George Best, legendary 60s soccer player, as he cavorted in baths of champagne with various Miss Worlds)

So why is Rod Stewart my theme, even if he once bid to play the game professionally? Why, so I have an excuse to play this wonderful clip from, as ever, my beloved Top of the Pops. Maggie May was arguably his breakthrough moment, and despite being credited to his solo career, it is with the Faces that he appears here, joined by famous underground DJ, John Peel, "busking" on mandolin, before the scene descends into a kickabout. Both Rod Stewart and John Peel were big afficionados of football, Rod, I think, famously being the most conscientious supporter of his Scotland side, themselves absent from many a world cup these last few years. I still hate football but I do love that clip.

Buy the song here!

FOOTBALL/SOCCER: FOG ON THE TYNE

Lindisfarne feat. Gazza: Fog on the Tyne (Revisited)

It's like lycanthropy.

Once every four years, I change. I incorporate more red and white into my wardrobe, I become argumentative, I'm prone to fits of pouting and I spent entirely too much of my time enraged and yelling at the television.

However, this change isn't spurred by the full moon. No. It's the World Cup that does funny things to me.

I was born in England and spent my childhood there where amidst reading, writing and maths, I also learned several other life lessons - the importance of properly dunking one's biscuit into one's tea and that in this life, football matters. A lot.

I came of age during the height of Gazzamania - the 1990 World Cup - when the legend of Paul 'Gazza' Gascoigne was elevated to mythic proportions. His grinning visage was emblazoned on everything from candy wrappers to clothing and you couldn't escape headlines screaming out about England's favorite son.

Even pop music wasn't safe as in 1990, he got together with pop-folk act Lindisfarme to re-record Fog on the Tyne.

Gazza's version is a novelty hit in every sense of the word. It was catchy, it featured stilted "rapping" from a man who truly had no business being anywhere near a recording studio and every 30 seconds or so, the song urged the listener to, "Come on!"

In short, it's a perfect, silly World Cup song that sticks in your ear and celebrates that Geordie Boy we as a nation pinned our hopes on - the great Gazza.

Unfortunately, his career and personal life spiraled downwards and in recent years, Gascoigne has battled publicly with alcohol addiction.

But regardless of what the future holds for Paul Gascoigne, the fog on the Tyne will always be all his. 

Football/Soccer: Kasey Keller

Barcelona: Kasey Keller
[purchase]

Like any good American, I have been glued to the television over the past week, watching the World Cup. It has been amazing to see everything, all over the country, come to a complete halt during the matches, and I’ve enjoyed getting into impassioned arguments with strangers over the relative merits of Croatia and Costa Rica. Or the tactical arguments over whether it is better to play a 4-3-3, or a 4-3-2-1. And whether using a false 9 really ever works.

When you come from a country with as proud and successful a soccer tradition as the United States, it is hard to decide what our greatest World Cup moment was. (Note—I’m focusing here on our men’s team. The women’s tradition, is, if anything, even better.) Was it our third place finish back in 1930? Or the victory over England in 1950, which made Joe Gaetjens a household name? Or was it something more recent, like our victory in 1994 (despite some of the ugliest uniforms ever) over Columbia (thanks, in part, to the tragic own goal from poor Andres Escobar)?

I mean, who could forget our incredible 2002 tournament, where we beat both Portugal and Mexico (of course, by the score of dos a cero, which has become a national chant) and only lost to Germany because of Torsten Frings’ dastardly cheating?

Or maybe it was our magnificent draw with the Italian thugs in 2006, despite ending the game with only 9 players? You could argue that our best moment was topping the group in South Africa in 2010, what with the stirring draw with England, the amazing comeback against Slovenia (and getting cheated by the referee’s awful offside call), and Landon Donovan’s incredible game winner against Algeria, which shook the world?

We’ve also had some big moments away from the World Cup, like beating Mexico at Azteca, or Paul Caligiuri’s game winner over powerful Trinidad and Tobago to clinch a berth in the 1990 World Cup? Or the Snow Game?

And, with all of that incredible history, there may be only one American soccer victory that has become so embedded in the national psyche that it inspired a song. Of course, I don’t have to tell you that I am talking about the 1-0 victory against Brazil at the 1998 CONCACAF Gold Cup.

Who can forget the legendary Kasey Keller, whose exploits that day in Los Angeles allowed the great Preki’s 65th minute goal to hold up? To this day, Americans remember where they were watching the match, and who they were with. We tell the story of Keller’s 10 saves to our kids, and sing this tribute to Keller, by the Washington D.C. area band Barcelona, whenever American soccer fans gather. (Although as a passionate Gooner, I do have to overlook Keller's tenure with Sp*rs, but country before club, right?)

Hey, look, an American soccer fan can dream, right? (And I'm not discussing last night's draw with Portugal.  Because I. Believe. That. We. Will. Win.)

Football/Soccer: Another Star

Stevie Wonder: Another Star
[purchase]

There are songs specifically written with the World Cup in mind and there are others that get co-opted to the purpose. Ricky Martin's La Copa de la Vida comes to mind as one of the more successful: you didnt have to be a football fan to notice the commercial success of the song.

Curiously, it took the US women's team - and Mia Hamm - back in 1996, to light the fire for soccer in the US. Sure ... there were other sparks: Pele and his backers tried hard. Beckham, too. But even today, soccer/football in the US of A - in terms that really matter (salaries, revenue, viewers...)  falls pitifully below other more American sports.

There are "official" songs for each World Cup, and then there are other songs that are "un-official".. Whereas Pitbull/Jenifer Lopez's "Ole Ola" and Shakira's "La La La" are considered to be official this year, the BBC has chosen this year to go with Stevie Wonder's "Another Star". Why so?

Folks who edit video are well aware of the effect that a sound track has over the video: even a sloppy visual sequence can turn into decent "film" through the judicious use of appropriate audio, and that appears to have been the Beeb's  ... er ... goal. There isn't much in the lyrics to suggest its application to a World Cup theme song (unless you accept the starting "la la la ..." as a tribute to the official Shakira song? Or perhaps the notion that "no other love" is a football fanatic's state of mind? Again, the audio overlaid to the video and the simple fact that this clip provides a history of sorts of the "Cup" are reason enough for me to start us off with this clip on the next 2-week theme in honor of the 2014 World Cup.

Hotels and Motels: Super 8

[purchase Southeastern]

If you have spoken to me about music over the past year or so, you probably know that my favorite album of 2013 was Jason Isbell’s Southeastern. In fact, it is probably the best album that I have heard in years. And I’m not alone in singing (actually just talking) its praises. It made a ton of year-end best lists, topping some, and has been nominated for all sorts of awards. Although for some reason, WFUV, which you would expect would be all over this disc, never really committed to it. Southeastern’s incredible songwriting, singing and playing, when coupled with Isbell’s story of talent, addiction, leaving a band, marriage and redemption scored Isbell about as much publicity as you can get playing the type of confessional Americana music that he plays. He has been on Letterman (who loves him) and Conan and has been featured on NPR and on the CBS News. But with the music business being what it is, the album has probably sold less in total than some no-talent pre-fab tween pop tart sells in a day.

For the most part, Southeastern is a pretty mellow affair, but its songs’ messages are anything but laid back. There are lots of songs that can be directly or indirectly tied to his life story, and one, “Elephant,” about a woman dying of cancer, that is literally brilliant. Almost every song has imbedded itself into my head, so that I couldn’t tell you what song is my favorite.

The album had just come out last summer, right before my family and I were going to see him perform at the Clearwater festival. I’ve mentioned that performance before, mostly in the context of how great it was that his former colleague in the Drive-By Truckers, Patterson Hood, sat in on one song, and Isbell returned the favor during Hood’s set. Especially since Hood was one of the people who was instrumental in essentially kicking Isbell out of the band when his drinking became too much of a problem. (Clearly, they have buried the hatchet—just the other day, Isbell, Hood and Trucker Mike Cooley performed an entire show together for a benefit.)

Although I had heard the album, it was still new, and hearing Isbell perform the songs, basically solo, was thrilling. Even my wife, who was never the big DBT fan that my son and I are, was blown away. Then, we found out that Isbell, with the full band, was going to be playing at Lincoln Fucking Center, as part of a series of pretty well-respected artists from across the musical spectrum—including jazz, opera and musical theater. I went with my son, his girlfriend and a musician friend of mine who was unfamiliar with Isbell (my wife had a prior commitment). It was an incredible show, in an incredible venue. The entire broadcast from PBS is here, and it is primarily songs from Southeastern, with some older songs and some Truckers classics.

The set ends with “Super 8,” the one real rocker on the album, a Stones-influenced rave about the craziness and danger of life on the road, particularly in cheap motels. In a recent piece in, yes, The Wall Street Journal, debuting the official video for the song, which is above, Isbell was quoted as saying: “This song is one story built out of moments from many different actual nights. Things that are funny now, but weren’t funny at all when they were happening. The song took a couple hours to write, but years to live through.”

 By the way, after “Super 8,” the band encored with an actual Stones song, “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking,” a part of which you can hear at the end of the video.

And have I mentioned how much I liked Southeastern?

Hotels/Motels: King of the Road

King of the Road
[purchase]

It is standard lore that musicians on the road used to tend to excesses. It cannot be a great life: days/months on the road. Grueling hours. Consider this: you start “work” at 10PM.  Yes, back stage, they “accommodated”  groupies. Their contractual  “riders” included requirements that would make the average Joe blanche – more bottles than even a hard-drinking band could put away between 10 and 12 midnight. Moreover, when the show was over and they retired to their accommodations, the show went on. There are legends about their use/abuse of the lodgings/the hotel.

I recall – 30 or so years ago – a night in Zagreb (Yugoslavia). The hotel staff was complaining about a Middle Eastern customer who had elected to grill their dinner – en-suite. Burning a hole in the center of the room rug in the process. And the staff said this was just standard form for a family from Arabia. Certainly plausible in light of what we think we know about rock bands and hotel rooms. 

It's more than likely that today's rock star on tour  gets charged for damage to the room: that appears to not have been the case in the 70s - or maybe the damages were just billed as part of the collateral damage. Not being a hotelier, in today’s atmosphere of airport security normality, I naively assume that even hard core rockers toe the line a bit more.

There are a number of stories about my choice this time around: King of the Road.

Roger Miller sang and played the guitar back in the 50s and 60s (OK .. and beyond).

As such, he hit the road.

Legend has it that on one such trip, he saw a sign advertising “trailers for sale or rent”, and the phrase stuck with him. Apparently, more than once, while on the road, he managed with rooming that we probably wouldn’t put up with in this day and age. At a later date, he worked this phrase into the lyrics of what would eventually become King of the Road.

Specific references to hotels/motels in the song are limited: the early 60s was a different time and place. The lyrics include the lines:  “8 x 12 4-bit rooms” and “Rooms to let, fifty cents/ No phone, no pool, no pets” – much of it still recognizable to travelers 50 years later. The culture of the American roadside motel is essentially the same today.

The Internet has it that Roger Miller went on in later years to purchase and operate more than one hotel/motel himself.

HOTELS AND MOTELS : HOTEL C*********

(Sorry, but someone had to, from the ridiculous to the sublime...........)

Alabama 3     

Max Romeo

Nancy Sinatra

Tangerine Dream

The Cat Empire

and, of course, The Gypsy Kings

I'm clearly not busy enough at work today.........

(Actually, rather than assuming this a knock against the song and it's originators, I find myself still loving it. Along with similar staples, like Freebird and Stairway to Heaven, all overplayed and overknown to buggery, I still get that hit as the opening bars unfold, singing along with all the words and all the chords from beginning to end. I even went, just last month, to see the History of the Eagles show here, as it rolls slowly and expensively around the world, enjoying the earlier part of the show, with Bernie Leadon's participation more than the later stuff. But I had to applaud and stand from my dampening seat as this song, their obvious encore, rang out. In the hardly unsurprising absence of Don Felder, a Steuart Smith was note perfect, on the expected double necked guitar, with Joe Walsh foiling the 2nd guitar admirably. I'm no fan of the Eagles and what they stand for, but, for that moment, hell, yes I was!)

HOTELS AND MOTELS : THE MOTELS

Buy the single!!

Bit of a change here, rather than invoking the C word and it's inability to be left, or Zappas entire chain of boarding houses, I thought I'd explore those largely uncelebrated doyens of Noo Yawk noo wave, Martha Davis' exemplary Motels. And what's the first thing I learn? Dang me, but they were from L.A.........
As a boy I was always interested in the arcane and the roads less well travelled, and I think I first came across this band on The Old Grey Whistle Test, the "other" music show from british bygone days, the late late night prog and earnest mumblefest, officiated by, at it's peak, the wonderful Whispering Bob, Bob Harris, who remains the champion of american musics in the UK. I don't believe they were ever that well known over this side, but I loved the spiky and jagged angulations of the guitar, keyboard and squawked vocal interface. This was the song and even hearing it now brings me to a glow of  nostalgic glee. Even the awful grunts and groans of her no doubt burly bandmates. (Edit: Actually, somewhat less than burly, see above!!)

Originally formed in Berkely as far back as 1971, they had rather more chart success at home and in Oz than in the UK, the above mentioned song being, I'm surprised to read, their only UK chartbotherer. I'm surprised it even reached 41, which it did, apparently, not through undeserved worth, but because I thought I was the only person who actually bought the single. It seems that vocalist/guitarist Martha Davis has been the only constant, with a massive cohort of transients over the subsequent decades. Indeed, albeit now officially Martha Davis and, the current unit are either currently touring, recording or both.

As a contrast I was hoping to find something from an LP of childrens music she, Ms Davis, put out at one stage. Unfortunately no-one has seen fit to youtube anything, but here is a spotify link that may or may not divert you, in more ways than one.

A final thought, as I try to shoehorn a further Hotel/Motel reference into this piece, I wonder whether the CEO of Days Inns ever contacted the band, in search of a slogan. Days are OK would surely fit the bill, I feel, for their, um, range? Of course, I expect a fee for this idea, should such a person be reading. I feel sure they are.

Hotels and Motels:Songs About the Chelsea Hotel

Jefferson Airplane: Third Week in the Chelsea
[purchase]

I am willing to bet that there is no other hotel or motel in the world that has inspired more songs than the Chelsea, located in the lower Manhattan neighborhood of the same name. Recently purchased and closed for renovations, the hotel has long been identified as a place for artists, performers, writers and musicians to live and work, which probably explains its popularity in song.

Wikipedia lists 22 different songs referencing the hotel, and one of them, Leonard Cohen’s “Chelsea Hotel #2” has been often covered. You could create a pretty credible cultural Hall of Fame consisting just of residents of the Chelsea, which for years was a residential hotel, including Bob Dylan, Charles Bukowski, Janis Joplin, William S. Burroughs, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, Patti Smith, Jasper Johns, Claes Oldenberg, Iggy Pop, Arthur C. Clarke, Allen Ginsburg, Diego Rivera, Mark Twain, Arthur Miller, Tennessee Williams, Stanley Kubrick, Uma Thurman, Jane Fonda, Alice Cooper, Larry Rivers, Christo, Julian Schnabel, Alejandro Escovedo, Jimi Hendrix, Willem de Kooning, Robert Mapplethorpe, Gore Vidal, Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Dennis Hopper, Thomas Wolfe, Elliot Gould, Elaine Stritch, Edie Sedgwick, and many, many more. And, of course, Sid Vicious’ girlfriend, Nancy Spungen, was found dead at the hotel, as were Dylan Thomas and Charles R. Jackson, the author of The Lost Weekend.

Cohen’s song has been discussed previously on this blog, here, and a cover by Lloyd Cole is discussed here, Dylan’s “Sara” was mentioned, if briefly, here, and a post about Joni Mitchell's "Chelsea Morning" is here. But there are many, many others to talk about.

My favorite is “Third Week in the Chelsea,” the second song from Jefferson Airplane’s Bark album that I have written about (which is pretty interesting, considering that it is generally considered a pretty mediocre album). It was written by guitarist Jorma Kaukonen, and it is a beautiful song, filled with sadness and resignation about the impending demise of one of the great bands of its era. It is a classic of the “leaving the band” genre, right up there with Peter Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill.” Although the whole thing is great, this stanza always kills me:

All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame 
To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name 
But all I know is what I feel whenever I'm not playin' 
Emptiness ain't where it's at and neither's feeling pain 

Because, when it is time to go, it is time to go. Luckily, he had Hot Tuna to fall back on.

Leonard Cohen’s song, which we really aren’t going to discuss, was about an (oral) sexual encounter at the hotel with a woman he later acknowledged was Janis Joplin. Jeffrey Lewis, a New York singer/songwriter, wrote “The Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song” which is both about and not about Leonard Cohen’s song, and has a certain shaggy dog charm of its own (and no actual oral sex):



Dan Bern, who is often compared to one time resident Bob Dylan, because they are both Jews from the Midwest who have raspy voices, play guitar and write interesting songs (making the comparison somewhat plausible), also wrote a song about having sex at the Chelsea. This version was recorded at the Turning Point in Piermont, New York, just across the Tappan Zee Bridge from my house, which gets surprisingly good acts, considering that it is about the size of a small living room. And it has a trumpet solo.



And, finally, here’s Okkervil River’s “Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed On The Roof Of The Chelsea Hotel, 1979.”



Campbell was the real name of the former Chelsea Hotel resident, singer Jobriath, who is considered to be the first openly gay rock musician signed to a major label, as well as one of the first well known musicians to die of AIDS.

The song appeared on Okkervil River’s The Stand Ins album, which is filled with songs musing about celebrity and pop culture. Jobriath, whose albums received generally good reviews (and had both Peter Frampton and John Paul Jones contribute to his glam-rock, very David Bowie-esque music), found his career derailed first by excessive hype by his management, then his disillusionment with the industry, and finally by his illness. He apparently did an interview from the roof of the Chelsea in 1979, but it was different from what Okkervil River sang about. Although not directly related to the hotel, here’s one of his songs, “Take Me I’m Yours,” about S&M, which certainly could have happened at the Chelsea Hotel.

Hotels and Motels : A Briga Do Edificio Italia Com O Hilton Hotel

[Purchase]

Talking Heads were not the first band to record songs about buildings. On his 1973 album, Se o Caso É Chorar , the wildly imaginative Brazilian Tropicalia artist Tom Ze sang about rival Sao Paulo buildings battling each other in "A Briga Do Edificio Italia Com O Hilton Hotel".  

Once the tallest building in South America and "the King of Ipiranga Avenue," the Edificio Italia was designed by a German Brazilian architect. Since its completion in 1965 it was a source of pride among Brazilians. The new Hilton Hotel, on the other hand, was decidedly modern, foreign-looking and foreign-owned --a symbol in Ze's eyes--of  multi national corporations trying to buy off Brazilians and turn these life-loving people into drones. 

On  "A Briga Do Edificio Italia Com O Hilton Hotel",  Tom Ze has the two buildings trading insults with each other. The Edificio Italia takes the first crack, claiming "that to get so white, the Hilton drinks rice-flour tea, only wears the latest fashion, dresses up right, and if he goes up Consolação (an avenue the two buildings share with the city's oldest cemetery)  wearing white, will cause terror even in the cemetery."

The Hilton responds "They’re already calling you Dumb Joe from the corner"... "and what’s more, (The Edificio Italia)  only thinks about money.He doesn’t know what love is, he has a body of steel, a robot’s soul."

The Edificio Italia (center left) and Hilton (center right) together 

The Edificio Italia stomps with rage and gets the last word, insinuating that the Hilton had been born round to call attention " Flaunted those curves to cause a sensation /And even seemed like a crazy girl,/ or the Tower of Pisa dressed up as a bride".

You can get so hooked on the music of Brazil's Tropicalia movement, you may never feel like you need to get the lyrics translated. But there are even more wonderful surprises waiting for you...if you do. That;s why I suggest you check out Brazilian Lyrics in English where I got more of my information for this post.

Hotels and Motels: Memory Motel

The Rolling Stones: Memory Motel
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Fool to Cry is probably my favorite from the Stones’ Black and Blue, but it doesn’t fit the theme this time around. That leaves me with my second favorite song from the album: Memory Motel.

There’s a lesson here about relying too heavily on Wikipedia for your data. Around 1975, the Stones were searching for guitar men to replace Mick Taylor. Black and Blue was in progress at about this time and Keith Richards is on record as saying that the album was about trying out different guitarists. The Wikipedia article about the song itself informs us that Richards “did not play guitar on this piece”. However, the Wikipedia article about the album says he did, while also giving credit to Harvey Mandel for “lead electric guitar”.

Some months back, SMM ran the theme “The Other Guy” and at that time, I once again chose a Stones’ song where Keith Richards did the main vocal. In the clip here, Richards is most certainly on the guitar in addition to sharing the lead vocals with some other guys. (This, of course, following my post last time around that included a Jagger vocal to RY Cooder’s guitar.

Side Projects: Brand X

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A few weeks ago, when I made the Case for Phil Collins, I mentioned Brand X, the jazz fusion group that he played with as one of his many side projects from Genesis. Before this theme ended, I figured it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to do a quick post about them. Really quick.

Brand X was formed back in 1975, and featured a number of musicians who were either top-notch studio musicians or sidemen. By the time of their first album, the band featured Collins on drums, John Goodsall on guitar, Robin Lumley on keyboards and Percy Jones on bass. Over time, as the musicians’ schedules became more complicated, a number of different musicians passed through the band, with Goodsall and Jones the most consistent members. The band played fusion music, and if you dismiss the genre as dull, I challenge you to check them out—the quality of the musicianship is superb, and the songwriting is often unusual and occasionally inspired (if not always, I guess).

In the original post about Collins, I embedded a video of Brand X, and here’s another live track, although without the live video:


And, for a hoot, check out the interview above, from 1979, featuring Collins and Goodsall, which appears to have been recorded in Wayne and Garth’s basement. The second part of the interview is here:

Side Projects: Misc. Ry

What you and I might call a side project may not be such a “side” for the musician himself: you could argue that Ry Cooder has been building towards his Cuban work all his life. You could argue that most everything he does is a “side project”.

Ry's work – more than being a collection of side projects – appears to have a focus: I’d say it is to turn us on to the best of many different musics; be it the forgotten American 30s, be it the best of modern Africa or Cuba or …
Although Ry’s main focus over the years has its roots in America (Blind Willie Johnson, Woody Guthrie and more). 

Ry's mission to give us some of the best of the past include songs by Bix Beiderbecke, Jelly Roll Morton on ”Jazz”, Woody Guthrie on “Into the Purple Valley”, Lead Belly on “Chicken Skin Music”.

Yet another “side project” , if you prefer, features his efforts to share with us some of the best of Cuba through his work with the “Moula Banda Aces”, or his sojourn to African music with Ali Farka Toure,or from India with V.M. Bhatt of India, and many more beyond the Cuban style I feature here:


Buena Vista Social Club

When Cooder writes and performs his own work, he tends to criticism, often in support of “the working class”. Arguably, much of his output leans in this direction (How can a Poor Man Stand Such Times, Alimony, and even Fool for a Cigarette in that “the rich don’t smoke”)

I don’t have an inside line to the man’s mind, but I guess it’s true that nothing is “side” to him. Besides, Ry has worked with a number of folks on a regular basis. Again and again, Ry appears with Bobby King, Terry Evans and friends doing supporting vocal backups - hardly a side project. And well he does; their versatile 3-part harmony (and stage show) suit him and his musical choices well. Likewise his repeated collaboration with Flaco Jimenez on the accordion.

Here's yet another, where he is doing some "side work" with Mick Jagger (Memo from Turner). His guitar work absolutely drives the whole song.

Memo from Turner

SIDE PROJECTS: The Twilight Singers

THE TWILIGHT SINGERS: TEENAGE WRISTBAND (LIVE)
Purchase The Twilight Singers catalog here

Action on the side is always a little darker. Whether it's an illicit gambit, a secret habit or a mistress, it's bound to be a little sexier and a little more willing to indulge your deepest desires. As it goes in life, so it goes in music. 

The Twilight Singers were born out of strife. 

Locked in battle with Elektra Records, Afghan Whigs lead singer Greg Dulli started recording demos with friends - a dark, tense and moody collection of music which was leaked on the internet. 

A reworked version of these leaked demos was released in 2000 by Columbia Records as Twilight As Sung by The Twilight Singers. 

Dulli describes The Afghan Whigs as, "a cross between The Band, The Temptations and Neil Young playing with Crazy Horse," and in the Twilight Singers, he gets to further explore his love of soul and R&B while keeping his pulse close to his hard rock roots. 

This R&B influence is heavily present in the first Twilight Singers song I ever heard. 

The crystalline tinkle that opens Teenage Wristband cut through the stagnant Central Florida summer air and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. 

Wait. 

Is it in through the nose or in through the mouth? 

My priorities shifted - breathing didn't matter so much as figuring out what this sound was coming through my speakers. 

That sound was Greg Dulli at his darkest and most lubricious. 

Teenage Wristband opens with clean, crisp pianos, a low persistent drone and Dulli issuing a low and throaty challenge: 

You say you wanna go there

Ride then

I did and I loved it

Considering Dulli's cocaine addiction, these stark allusions to drug use shouldn’t come as a surprise and the chorus only serves to further illustrate a junkie’s delirium: 

You wanna go for a ride?

I got sixteen hours to burn

And I’m gonna stay up all night 

The shivery ache in Dulli's voice coupled with his lascivious, almost pornographic delivery of the lyrics make a sixteen hour ride with an addict seem like a tantalizing offer. 

Further tantalizing the listener is the background vocals. Sweet oooh-honey-baby cooing that sound familiar for a good reason. This siren song is sung by no other than Apollonia. Yes, that Apollonia - the same sultry dark-eyed muse who drove Prince crazy. 

A low, droning hum pulses through the song, smoldering and heightening in intensity, tighter and tighter, until about 2:37 into the song when the fever breaks and the music washes over you like the waters of the River Jordan. 

Scattershot with starlight and soaked in well-aged bourbon, the music of The Twilight Singers is a dark fairytale woven through well-worn, nickel-plated strings. All black velvet soft darkness rattled by a wall of noise – whispers turn to howls, murky basslines bubble out of steaming Louisiana swamps and snarling guitars hiss and strike like baited cobras. 

Though he is known best for his work with the Afghan Whigs, Dulli's side project remains closer to his pulse. The Twilight Singers are the heart of darkness beating inside Greg Dulli - dark as blood, lush, lyrical and fucked up in the most beautiful way.

Side Projects: Austrian Death Machine

Austrian Death Machine

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Metal is full of silliness (see Spinal Tap, Steel Panther, or Gwar) and the type of faux-sincerity that leaves people wondering whether there really is a population of Satan-worshipping, tattooed and pierced pseudo-goths congregating around a single genre of music, or if it’s all just an antagonistic ruse. That ambiguous attitude toward idolatry is exactly what makes Austrian Death Machine a particularly funny joke—but one that outlasts its punchline via real music (as opposed to Richard Cheese’s albums, for instance (no comment regarding live performances)).  

Every bit of the band—the name, the lyrics, the song titles, the album titles, the artwork, the vocal style(s)—is a parody of the epic legacy of Arnold Schwarzenegger. The joke is largely the creation of the fellow bicep-obsessed As I Lay Dying frontman Tim Lambesis, who, incidentally, recently pled guilty to hiring a hitman to murder his wife (the assassin he hired was, in fact, an undercover police officer).

Is an over-the-top joke about an over-the-top action hero famous for his on-screen body count told by a death-worshipping would-be wife killer funny? Humor is subjective. Lots of people never laughed in the first place. But if you’ve ever laughed at an Arnold quote, there’s a good chance you’d get a few chuckles out of any of Austrian Death Machine's three albums.

Side Projects : College Radio Edition

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In those heavy touring days of the mid 80's, musical collaborations and deep friendships bloomed between members of different bands. Here are some of my favorite results.

On 1984's Rainy Day, members of LA's Paisley Underground bands like The Bangles, Rain Parade, and the Dream Syndicate get together to pay tribute to the music that inspired them. The covers of Buffalo Springfield's "Flying On The Ground is Wrong" and The Velvet Underground's "I'll Be Your Mirror" are especially nice. Susanna Hoffs still records albums of well chosen covers these days with Matthew Sweet.

In 1991 two of my favorite Australian songwriters, Grant McLennan of the Go Betweens and Steve Kilbey of The Church,  released the first of two albums they made as Jack Frost. This is the kind of  intelligent well-crafted pop that got washed away by the great grunge tsunami of that time. 

In 1985 Peter Buck of R.E.M. and Keith Streng of the Fleshtones released an EP as Full Time Men. The single "I Got Wheels" makes  my list  of the "5 All-Time Catchiest Peter Buck Guitar Riffs". Buck was also busy at the time producing bands like The Fleshtones and The Feelies as well as knocking out that distinctive riff in The Replacements's breakthrough "I Will Dare".

Here's one where the concept sounds just a bit better than the music. Snakecharmer finds P.I.L bassist Jah Wobble, U2's The Edge, Magazine's Ben Mandelson and Can's Holger Czukay combining forces to make alternative dance music.Very much of its time.

SIDE PROJECTS : Fairport Connections

Buy some early Fairport

OK, there is no such band as Fairport Connections, but, challenged by Darius' post below, I thought it pertinent to address the revolving door policy of UK folk-rock, in particular that arising out of the still going Fairport Convention, arguably the godfathers of the mafiosi still intrinsically associated with the tradition, even if not strictly still members of their former band.. Since 1967, starting off as an English Jefferson Airplane, if you will, within a year or 2 they had invented folk-rock, utilising and building on an electrified folk tradition of the british isles. Altho' this piece is not, per se, about them, here is the consummate example of their traditional stylistic progression, from Liege and Lief, the groundbreaking 1969 LP, voted "Most Influential Folk LP of all Time" at the British Folk Awards in 2006. This line up of the late Sandy Denny, Richard Thompson, Simon Nicol, Ashley "Tyger" Hutchings, Dave Swarbrick and Dave Mattacks was probably their anti-nadir, with a legacy that lasts to this day, usually most prominently at their yearly Cropredy Festival, where, despite Simon Nicol being the sole custodian of the original flame, those still able usually still attend, within whatsover role they are currently occupying in the musical world, culminating in a marathon all bodies on deck finale. Never has the Hotel California spirit of "you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave" been more aptly realised.

Anyhow, to task, my plan today is to introduce the 2 earliest side projects of this dynasty, together with a couple of other tasters. The early 2 are about as far from each other as you can get, being faithful evocations, if a little modernised, of rock and roll and of morris dancing, unlikely bedfellows to say the least.

"Rock On" in 1972 was attributed to "The Bunch" and was a collection of their favourite covers by Elvis, the Everleys, Buddy Holly and many more. Featuring most of Fairport, this also included the later to be Linda Thompson and other past and future alumni. Here's Sandy Denny and the aforementioned Linda together. Was it a financial success? Probably not, but it sounded a lot of fun.

And The Bunch

Almost as a riposte, Ashley Hutchings produced the 1st of a dynasty of LPs, starting with "Morris On", later in that same year, roping in, again, Mattacks and Richard Thompson. A completely different kettle of fish, this remains probably an aquired taste. Unfortunately, I have that taste, in spades .This ran to Son of, Grandson of and Greatgrandson of, as well as a live outing, based on a touring version, still performing within the last 5 years or so.

And Morris On

So what else evolved from Fairport? Arguably the 2 biggest would have been Ashley Hutchings' Albion (Country/Dance) Bands and the whole phenomenon of Richard Thompson, starting off as a duo with his then wife, Linda, and subsequently his solo and band careers. Whilst distinct entities in their own right, I feel they fulfil a place in this piece, through the virtue of many a still active Fairporter concomitantly appearing in the ranks of either, or both, bands as well, and still also in Fairport. (As an aside, the later rhythm section of Dave Mattacks on drums, Dave Pegg on bass and Simon Nicol on guitar were virtually the houseband of Island Records in the 70s, appearing on just about everything.)  Here are examples of The Albion Band and of The Richard Thompson Big Band, and rather than describing the convoluted who's who, I direct you back to the family tree in the 1st link above.

Confused? So what, just enjoy. And why the picture of cricketers at the head of the page? Well, that is because the annual festival generally completes with a sunday cricket match, involving many of the musicians involved. Richard Thompson is said to be a demon bowler, which may mean little to US readers. Now you can't quite see the Grateful Dead doing that, can you?

Side Projects: Talking Heads ‘81 Edition

David Byrne: Eyes Wide Open

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Tom Tom Club: Genius of Love

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Jerry Harrison: Slink

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What is a side project? How is it different from a solo album? In choosing a song for this week‘s theme, I have wrestled with these questions. In mind, the difference is intent. Here I present three side projects related to the Talking Heads, all from 1981. Each, as I will explain, qualifies as a side project for different reasons.

1981 was a scary year for Talking Heads fans like myself. We now know that some of the band’s best work was still in the future, but it looked at the time like the band might break up. Officially, they were on hiatus, but we have all heard that before, and many bands do not survive it. Talking Heads did, but the year also produced some great music while they were apart.

David Byrne was the most prolific. My Life in the Bush of Ghosts was a collaboration with Brian Eno, and it would prove to be a study of African rhythms in preparation for the next Talking Heads album, Remain in Light. But Byrne also released a second album that year. The Catherine Wheel was a commission for the Twyla Tharp Dance Company. Byrne and Tharp were a couple for a brief time that year, and Byrne created a set of songs specifically intended for the dance. I was lucky to find a video of one of Twyla Tharp’s dances from this work.

Chris Franz and Tina Weymouth decided to use their time off from Talking Heads to have some fun. They gathered some musical family and friends and formed what was intended to be a one-shot project, the Tom Tom Club. This turned out to be the most popular of the Heads related projects of 1981. Genius of Love and Wordy Rappinghood were hits, and the Tom Tom Club’s label wanted a follow-up two years later. Franz and Weymouth would then go back to Tom Tom Club when Talking Heads finally did break up for good.

Jerry Harrison was interested in exploring what could be done in a recording studio. The Red and the Black features a large cast of musicians, many of whom would be featured in later Talking Heads albums. Harrison used layered multiple instruments and vocals to create a dense but funky soundscape. There would be two more Harrison solo albums in later years, but The Red and the Black is probably more important for laying the groundwork for the producing career that Harrison has enjoyed since the break up of Talking Heads.