Hotels/Motels: King of the Road

King of the Road
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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
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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

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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

[purchase their discography]

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

[purchase]

Jerry Harrison: Slink

[purchase]

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.

SIDE PROJECTS : KLARK KENT

Buy a used copy ;-(

Spoilt for choice here, so I simply went through my singles collection, gathering dust up on the shelf. And there, resplendent in greeen vinyl was, and indeed is, this gem . I loved this and bought it ahead of buying any of his then other day job material. Klark Kent was the alter ego of Police drummer, Stewart Copeland, and always seemed a much more fascinating character than his somewhat severe and serious bassist. (Mind you, the guitar player was pretty interesting too.)

Like his bandmates, Copeland had already had quite a career ahead of the Police, much of which seems at odds with the desired youthful and, initially at least,  punky received wisdom thereof. For a start, in year zero of punk in the UK, which could be anything from 75 to 77 depending on your stance, he was already older than many of the bands around him, with a 1952 birthday. Of hybrid US/scottish stock, the son of a CIA officer, he spent a peripatetic youth in the middle east, before receiving his secondary education in the UK, at "progressive" and somewhat experimental school Millfield before returning to the US for college. Later, back in the UK he started his musical career as road manager for reformed prog-rockers Curved Air, top right in the picture, longer of locks than later, even if his clattering drum style is already in evidence in this live clip, having swiftly become their sticksman. Later he was to marry their frontwoman, Sonja Kristina, object of many a teenaged brits lust in their halcyon days. The Police he formed in 1977, but this isn't about them.

Klark Kent was born in 1978, issuing a flurry of singles and EPs in that year, and a later LP in 1980. "Don't Care", the song in the first clip from above was the most successful, rising to the heights of 48 in the british pop charts, via an appearance on my much loved Top of the Pops. Clearly realising that Sting was perhaps going to claim the stakes to the majority of the songwriting in their joint band, I think KK was as much to show that he could sing and play a bit too, and more than just drums: he plays everything on these recordings. There are one or two KK sounding songs on the first couple of Police LPs, graced by his twangy western drawl, but this grace seemed to peter out as they became huger and huger, making my green vinyl all the more to relish.

Subsequently, between spatty Police reunions, Copeland has amassed a steady volume of other projects, notably his soundtrack work, including for Rumblefish . This was followed by further soundtracks, as well as music for ballets and even operas. I have never got round to these, I confess.

Things I didn't know department: in 2007 he was appointed a Chevalier of France's Ordre des Arts et Lettres, along with Summers and Sting. Well I never!

Side Projects: Golden Smog

Golden Smog: V
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For the next couple of weeks, we will be writing about “Side Projects,” the musical projects that are created when an artist decides to moonlight away from his “regular” band. These projects happen for many different reasons—the desire to explore a different kind of music, the opportunity to play with different people, the chance for a sideman to step to the front, or even just to fill time between releases.

Golden Smog appears to have developed because a bunch of friendly, similarly inclined musicians from different bands had fun playing together. As befits their name (which was taken from the second episode of The Flintstones), the origins of Golden Smog are clouded in the mists of history. They started in the late 1980s in Minneapolis as a loose collection of musicians who joined together to play mostly covers, possibly at first in 1987 to support Kraig Johnson, of Run Westy Run, at a solo show. According to Marc Perlman of The Jayhawks, and a member of Golden Smog, that show included guitarists Dan Murphy of Soul Asylum and Gary Louris of The Jayhawks, Perlman on bass and Soul Asylum vocalist Dave Pirner on drums. Other early members included Chris Mars of The Replacements and Jim Boquist of Son Volt, and they became a regular feature of the Minneapolis bar scene. Gary Louris remembers it all somewhat differently, and if you really want more on the band’s origins, read this article from No Depression.

The band’s first release was a 1992 EP of covers, On Golden Smog. Because of contractual issues, the band members used pseudonyms derived from their middle names and the street they grew up on, and included Murphy (“David Spear”), Pirner (“Anthony James”), Louris (“Michael Macklyn”), Perlman (“Raymond Virginia”), Johnson (“Jarrett Decatur”) and Mars (“Eddie Garfield”) who also created the cover art. The relaxed nature of the collaboration was demonstrated by the fact that one song had lead vocals from Soul Asylum roadie Bill Sullivan.

Over time, the members of the band started to bring original songs to the group, and this culminated in 1996’s release, Down By the Old Mainstream, in which Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy (“Scot Summit”) replaced Pirner, and Mars was replaced with Honeydogs’ drummer Noah Levy (“Leonardson Saratoga”). The album contained mostly original songs, with two covers. At the time, Soul Asylum was already a couple of years past their breakthrough hits, The Jayhawks had released a couple of well received albums, but were reeling from the loss of singer Marc Olson, and Wilco was still gaining its footing. Tweedy, who as a Bellville West High School student had actually interviewed Murphy for a music magazine, reportedly appreciated the support he received from his fellow Smoggers following the breakup of Uncle Tupelo and the mixed reviews for Wilco’s debut.

As a fan of Wilco, Soul Asylum and The Jayhawks, I was inclined to like Golden Smog, and this album got me hooked. I especially loved the opener, “V,” featured above, a wistful remembrance of a friendly and supportive barmaid, that, nevertheless rocks. This was a disc that was played to death in our house. I know that some reviews, predictably, denigrated some of the songs as ones that were not good enough for the member’s regular bands, but I think that is too facile a critique. Not every song is a gem, but even the weaker ones are worthwhile.

It took a few years for the band members’ schedules to align to allow the recording and release of a second album, this time with Big Star drummer Jody Stephens instead of Levy. Weird Tales was released in 1998, and consisted of all originals (and all of the members got to use their own names). It has a somewhat more somber tone than the prior disc, but also has a few rockers, including my favorite track, “Until You Came Along.” One review described it as “long and sloppy and uneven and enjoyable, and thus easily pigeonholed as the kind of long, sloppy, uneven, enjoyable record that happens when a bunch of people who kind of know each other sit down with some guitars—yes, we understood, Golden Smog was a Traveling Wilburys full of people nobody really knew.”

My family enjoyed this album, and my wife and I saw the band put on a great show at Irving Plaza in New York. By that time, it was clear that Tweedy was getting most of the attention, as Wilco had released both Being There and the first Mermaid Avenue collaboration with Billy Bragg.

And that seemed to be pretty much it for Golden Smog, as the members’ regular bands and projects took precedence. I was, therefore, excited when the band announced a concert at the Bowery Ballroom in the summer of 2004, and my wife and I went. One of our favorite memories of that night was sitting in this little alcove in the balcony with our friends before the show started, and the actors Adam Goldberg and Christina Ricci, who were a couple at the time, came and sat with us. We became close friends and still hang out. Not really. They actually ignored us and we played the blasé New Yorkers and ignored them, but it was still pretty cool. It was a fun, very loose show, filled with Golden Smog songs and lots of random covers ranging from Carly Simon, to The Fugs to Neil Young to Talking Heads. No Tweedy this time, but the band included Louris, Perlman, Murphy, Johnson, Steve Wynn (of the Dream Syndicate) and his wife, drummer Linda Pitmon, David Poe, Jenni Muldaur, James Mastro (of The Bongos) and others.

The tour led to another album, Another Fine Day, mostly recorded in Spain, with additional material (including Tweedy’s contributions) added later. It is a good album, but I never really fell in love with it, nor did I love the also perfectly fine (but Tweedy-less) EP Blood on the Slacks. I can’t say that my lack of interest in these later discs is a result of their quality or just the fact that I didn’t listen to them over and over again, but it is what it is.

Golden Smog has turned out to be a pretty long-running side project, which allowed its members to have fun, try new things with different band members, but never seemed to get in the way of the members’ “day jobs.” And I think they put out a bunch of good music.

Television: Crowded House, "My Telly's Gone Bung"

[Purchase "My Telly's Gone Bung"]

As far as I can tell, no one ever said that these had to be the "best" songs about TV, right? Okay, good. Because the song I've decided to feature is clearly not one of Crowded House's better songs by any stretch, having been written by their least-frequent songwriter, drummer Paul Hester, and released on a collection of previously unreleased odds and ends, Afterglow (released in 2000). Nonetheless, it isn't a bad song either, and it fits the current theme to a "T"(V).

Hester's lyrics about the death of his television ("bung" in this case being an Australian term for "useless") are cutely amusing, but not exactly a cutting indictment of TV culture -- just a mildly self-deprecating tease of those whose lives are probably too tele-centric. Had the song been sped up significantly and given more lyrical bite via a rewrite by Neil Finn, this could have been a song worthy of inclusion on one of their proper studio albums, but as it turned out it's a little ditty that's fun while it lasts, but eminently forgettable afterward. Much like 90% of the programming that gets shown on TV. (Pow! Now we're talkin'!)

My telly's gone bung
What am I to do about the ABC
My telly's gone bung
What am I to do about my predicament
My telly's gone bung
I plugged it it in and it turned me off again 

I've waited up for you
To come alive and bring some truth back to me yeah
'Cause I'm where I wanna be in front of my TV 

My telly's gone bung
What am I to do about Kylie & Jason now
My telly's gone bung
I don't really care for their predicament 

If it was up to me
I'd let these people see
What people do
I've been watching you too

Television: The Ballad of Jed Clampett

The Ballad of Jed Clampett
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I guess this skirts the edges of the theme, but I love the song and hope you do too.  The Ballad of Jed Clampett is an iconic TV theme song, performed by the best of the best.
 
Always a bluegrass aficianado, I have to confess that I think there are few better songs than The Ballad of Jed Clampett when it comes to TV air-time. Back when The Beverly Hillbillies first appeared on US TV in the early 60s  , Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs were in their prime. Granted, that prime continued for several more years as they picked their way to iconic stature, but this song placed them above the rest in statistical terms of total listens: the show was a hit and the theme song too.

In those days, TV was black and white. TV was THE entertainment for America: families gathered around the "set" and nationwide rating stats were serious commercial business.


Somewhere back behind the mores of the US in those days is part of what must have influenced Frank Zappa as he wrote and sang about the "slime" oozing out of your TV set.

Don't get me wrong: I loved the Beverly Hillbillies: the unscrupulous banker, Mr Drysdale; the ornery, old time Granny Moses; and the accommodating Jed Clampett. But to me, much more than the characters, it was the finger-picking goodness and hootenanny vocals of the theme song that captured my interest. This was the essence of America: raw country come to urbana.

All the same, when the ads came on every 15 minutes, FZ was lurking somehere in the background (or maybe in the future).

Anyway, Thanks, Frank. Thanks Earl. Thank you John Logie Baird, Philo Taylor Farnsworth and Vladimir Kosma Zworykin for inventing the TV.

Television: Turn Me On

The Tubes: Turn Me On
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I will never forget the glee I felt when I started training at WPRB and was told that we had free rein to come to the studios and listen to records. Even better, we were encouraged to do so. I had a good collection, but it was nothing compared to the shelves of vinyl that I now had access to. The smell of a room filled with records still brings me back to those days. And while I felt like I had a pretty broad knowledge of rock music, there were hundreds of records—maybe thousands—in there that I had never heard of. To this day, I listen to many of the musicians who I discovered pawing through the stacks in the basement of Holder Hall.

I’m pretty confident that I was unaware of The Tubes before I picked up 1979’s Remote Control in the studio. I was immediately taken by its biting satire of television, a medium that I loved, the quality of the songs and performances, and by Todd Rundgren’s production. I know I played a number of songs from the album, and started to look back to the band’s earlier albums, which consistent with their name, touched on television, particularly, the hucksterism lampooned in “What Do You Want From Life?” However, the band skewered other targets, too, including sex and drugs, with varying success.

But Remote Control, from the opener, “Turn Me On” to the closing track, “Telecide,” is a concept album that is a focused, scathing attack on the influence that television has on individuals and society. The music jumps genres, but never disappoints, and its message is consistent—TV is dangerous. Here’s an excerpt from “Turn Me On”:

Let me know what I need to know 
Make me go where I want to go 
Let me stand and wonder 
Let me feel the thunder 
See the lightning and the picture show 

After Remote Control, The Tubes experienced a brief period of increasing popularity, ironically fueled by exposure on MTV (and the participation of members of, I hesitate even to write the name, Toto), and decreasing creativity (caused, in part, by the participation of members of Toto). But then the bottom dropped out, people started to leave and the band broke up.

As much as I like this song, and this album, I can’t completely agree with their thesis. Like anything that is powerful, television can be misused and abused. While I recognize that television provides tons of misinformation, hours of trashy entertainment and unreal “reality” programming, is probably overused as a babysitter and keeps people on the couch when they should be doing something else, it also provides enormous value. If it wasn’t for television, I would never have seen the Mets win the World Series, the Giants win the Super Bowl, the Knicks win the NBA Championship (I am that old) or get to watch the World Cup. I wouldn’t have seen Nixon resign or Obama get elected. I would never have experienced “Hill Street Blues,” “All in the Family,” “Seinfeld,” “The West Wing,” “Monty Python’s Flying Circus,” “Friday Night Lights,” “Sports Night,” “Deadwood” or David Letterman. Or any number of other great programs or events. And while I personally can attest to the fact that much of the time you can scroll through hundreds of channels and find nothing to watch, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t times when there are too many things to see (and thanks, therefore, to our DVR and to VOD). And it doesn’t mean that television is evil.

I guess, like pretty much everything, moderation is the key. But that doesn’t make for much of a concept album.

Television: 5 Great TV Themes

A boyhood friend of Buddy Holly, Sonny Curtis is best known for writing " I Fought The Law" for the Bobby Fuller Four. When you listen to the entire song, "Love Is All Around" is hardly the Woman's Lib anthem the opening credits of The Mary Tyler Moore Show made it seem:

     All the men around adore you/ 
That sexy look will do wonders for you.

Thanks to his duets success with Roberta Flack, Donny Hathaway was recruited to sing the title track to the Norman Lear comedy Maude in 1972. The songwriting team of Alan and Marilyn Bergman also gave us "Up Where We Belong" and "You Don't Bring Me Flowers".

"Everybody's Talkin" had everybody talkin about Harry Nilsson who in 1969 was commissioned to record the title sequence theme for The Courtship of Eddie's Father. He rewrote something he called "Girlfriend". Harry never bothered to record a full length version of the tune which might have been a nice single.

For the 1979 Martin Short Wall Street comedy The Associates, producer James L Brooks got B B King to record "The Wall Street Blues". The show lasted just 9 episodes.

Finally, not only did The Waitresses performed the title track for the Sarah Jessica Parker vehicle "Square Pegs", they appeared in the premiere episode, at the school dance, singing their hit "I Know What Boys Like".

Television: Bjork

 This probably belong here.

TELEVISION : TOP OF THE POPS

I loved Top of the Pops. On this side of the pond it was both the chart TV show and the only  music show for many of the population, sucking in massive audiences for it's heyday between the early sixties and late eighties, aka my childhood and young adulthood. Usually on thursdays, BBC1, for about half an hour, the format was broadly unchanged until it fizzled out in 2006. With a set designed to look like a naff nightclub, actually probably not, but that's how it was, gurning adolescents dancing badly, cheesy disc jockeys announcing each act in turn, with  a tacky dance troupe to cover no-shows, the occasional specially made film and, when they were invented, 1 or 2 videos. But the highlight was always the artist "performances", mimed or played with backing tracks, sometimes wildly dissimilar to the original, with no regard to anything other than who was in the top 30 at any one time. So novelty schlock songs would follow out and out rockers, bookended by crooners and whirling motown soulsters. Anything and everything fitted, highly appropriately, as it was truly a whole family entertainment show. I recall watching it with my sister and parents, my mother being the one to make the most caustic remarks about the shaggier representatives of my counter-culture. Who's that, she would say, and I would bite my tongue, for fear of being outed as either a fan or seeming to be. Of the wrong person. I lived in fear that she think I liked T.Rex, for instance.

Here's a good example of the style, conveniently being scottish punks the Rezillos, performing, on the programmed, their homonymous (and solitary) hit. Through the mists of time I am uncertain now whether their gaucheness was even ironic or just as they were. Hoping the former, I fear the latter.

Buy it!  (sadly the best I can offer is a 2nd hand single.........)

There were a number of other songs that referenced the show, commemorating it's place in the pantheon of british broadcasting iconography. Here's another, The Boomtown Rats, wherein "little Judy's tryin to watch Top of the Pops". And if you think Geldofs sax playing is, well, um, optimistic, later on, with the song newly number 1, he "played" the same break on a candelabra. Particularly in this era and later, there would be deliberate lampooning of the supposed "live presence", reaching it's nadir as the charts became taken over by dance music, where the musicians were, at best, faceless. Here's a good example, where the trick is even whether they were plugged in. (Answer: Not!) Ultimately this probably killed the show, a combination of anonymous dance music and the death of the singles market, ironically now on a wave back to viability. Of course there have been other shows, before and since, notably the magazine format Old Grey Whistle Test, beloved by chin stroking proggers, and Later, fronted and hosted by Jools Holland, invariably allowing him to join in at some stage, as various assorted acts play genuinely live and in the round. But TOTP, as it was acronymed, is always the one remembered with most reverie.

I wish it could come back, if only to ask my children, and theirs, what this claptrap thump thump thump is.....

STOP PRESS: So who were the Rezillos? Why, only Edinburghs most famous New Wave Beat Group. Sort of a lighter hearted Cramps. Centred around dual frontline singers, Fay Fife and Eugene Reynolds, they had an explosive sense of fun, in their all too brief first  incarnation, 1976-8, with, for me, extra delight in that the singing was all unapologetically with broad scottish accents. When Jo Callis, their dour faced guitarist left, to join the Human League, on synthesisers, clearly, going on to co-write most of their hits, including here on Top of the Pops, Fife and Reynolds re-grouped as the Revillos, on and off until the original name became revived in 2001. They still tour.

Television: I’m the Slime

Frank Zappa: I’m the Slime

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After a remarkable burst of posts regarding radio, it would seem that Television has us at a loss here at Star Maker. How can this be? Television surely occupies at least as important a place in our culture as radio does, yet I confess it took me a while to think of songs for this theme. I think it has to do with how we relate to TV, at least here in the United States. Television embarrasses us. If you want to insult an actor, tell him he is a television actor. For every John Travolta, there are ten Adam Wests. And most people forget that Travolta first became famous as the Fonz, a fact I would bet his publicist does not emphasize. We all have TV shows we love, that have influenced us greatly, but we don‘t discuss them with the same pride as a favorite movie. And so it is with songs about TV as well. You will find affectionately mocking covers of theme songs, but no one takes the originals seriously as great music when they cover TV themes. Original songs about TV have this same gently satiric tone; I hope to get to one of those later. But I know of no songs that simply embrace TV as an art form or an inspiration without apology, although the case can certainly be made

Frank Zappa, predictably, doesn‘t even try. He comes right out and spells out bluntly what makes us so uneasy about television. To him, it represents all the worst excesses of mass media, with all the big brother implications. Ironically, the video I have chosen is a television performance of I‘m the Slime. It comes from a 1976 episode of Saturday Night Live, and features an unlikely collaborator named Don Pardo.

Radio -->Television: Video Killed the Radio Star

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On a basic level, “Video Killed the Radio Star” harkens back to a time when the emergence of television supplanted radio as the primary source of information and entertainment. On a general level, it can be interpreted as a reflection on new technology replacing the old. In the cultural history of the 20th Century, because it was the first video ever played on MTV, the song has come to represent the emergence of the music video and the marginalization of radio.

I’d argue, though, that while music videos and MTV probably didn’t help radio, it wasn’t the only thing that caused the decline of the medium. Even MTV stopped playing videos years ago, I think that two different forces more powerful than video combined to render radio less vital. (Note—these opinions are about rock radio—I would not even presume to opine about the state of urban, Latin, country or other genres).

First, as I alluded to in my prior piece, I think that radio’s success commercially resulted in consolidation of ownership and a homogenization of content. Independent owners, willing to take risks and hire edgy DJs and program directors, were replaced by media behemoths that sanded off the rough edges and used market research to cater to the masses. There has always been a balance in radio programming between leading the listeners and following them—in other words, trying to determine the right mix of music that you think the audience will or should like and the music you know they already like. I think that the balance on commercial radio has shifted way toward playing the known, and avoiding risk. The spirit of adventurous radio still lives on in the occasional independent station and on college/noncommercial stations. Unfortunately, these stations tend to have small listenerships, can swing too far toward the strange and unknown, and often have difficult to listen to student DJs (which I can say, having been one).

The second force is, of course, the new technologies, mostly digital music, and the Internet and satellite “radio,” that allow listeners to create their own playlists, stream music from around the world, download music easily and find stations that narrowcast in limited genres. This allows each individual listener to decide, on a moment to moment basis, the balance between the known and unknown, and how much the listener wants to rely on their own taste, and how much to leave to someone else’s decision. And videos have become a way to circumvent the tight playlists of commercial radio and the small listenership of noncommercial/independent radio by getting the product directly to the consumer.  Videos, however, remove some of the mystery, because they create a codified, unitary version of a song's meaning.  The ability of every individual listener to imagine a personal vision is gone.  I have no memory anymore of what I thought the first time I heard Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" on the radio--now, all I can think of is claymation.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this—it is just reality. It isn’t as easy as when I was a kid, when there was a choice of a few radio stations, you pretty much knew that one station played top 40, another played album rock, and another was “free form.” Or you put on a record. And I lived in the media capital of the world, so I can only imagine that radio was even less varied elsewhere. Now, if you like popular hits, you can find a way to listen to them. If you want to only listen to obscure indie rock, you can do that. And if you want to mix things up, you can do that, too. But all of this choice requires more work than I think most people are willing to do, and can simply be overwhelming. Maybe not to most people who read obscure music blogs, but most regular people.  I wrote this earlier this week, and here's an op-ed from today's New York Times that discusses some of the same issues.

Although I would expect that most people reading this were in fact aware that the Buggles’ “Video Killed the Radio Star” was the first video on MTV, I am willing to bet that a significantly smaller percentage of you knew that it was not the first version of the song released. The song was written by Trevor Horn, Geoff Downes and Bruce Woolley, all members of the Buggles, and it was a demo of the song that helped get the band signed. Apparently, it took the trio about an hour to write. While recording the album, Woolley left amicably, formed The Camera Club and released his somewhat less “produced” version of the song on the album English Garden. Here it is:

Shortly thereafter, the remaining Buggles released their version, which became the huge hit and a cultural icon. And to show there were no hard feelings, Woolley appears in the video. Downes and Horn started to work on another album, but instead joined Yes, in what was at the time a true head scratcher. The second Buggles album was later released, to less acclaim, and Downes joined Asia and has been part of other bands. Horn has mostly made his name as a producer. The Camera Club’s second album went unreleased, and Woolley has become better known as a songwriter, often for movies. One of the other members of that band was Thomas Dolby, who must also have recognized the interplay between TV and radio. His debut album was called The Golden Age of Wireless, and the first track was another early MTV staple, “She Blinded Me With Science.” The second track? “Radio Silence.”