Dance Moves: The Frug

Rilo Kiley: The Frug

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Some songs don't lend themselves to over-detailed analysis. This 1999 song by indie pop group Rilo Kiley is one of those. Lead singer Jenny Lewis lists some things she can and cannot do, most of which are of passing value (I can make some mac and cheese), which stand in stark contrast to the fundamental thing she claims she cannot do: I cannot fall in love.

For what it's worth, I cannot do the Smurf either. I can, however, still do a passable frug and a damned good Freddie.

Dance Moves: Mardi Gras Mambo

The Hawketts: Mardi Gras Mambo

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Darius recently wrote about the Meters, a precursor to the Neville Brothers formed in the late '60s. But their pre-history goes back even further, and this song is as good a starting point as any. The Hawketts' "Mardi Gras Mambo", featuring Art Neville on vocals, was released way back in 1954, but it remains a popular Mardi Gras anthem today. Indeed, I woke up this morning with this song in my head, and it seems like the most appropriate song to post on Fat Tuesday.

Dance Moves: Tango Atlantico

Joe Jackson: Tango Atlantico

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“You may think that this song comes too late.” So sings Joe Jackson on his 1986 album Big World. The song seems to be about the Falklands War, which was fought in 1982. Most of the songs about it came out in 1983, so you can see Jackson’s point. But in wars, soldiers are always left behind, as peacekeepers or advisors. These are who Tango Atlantico is about. Here in 2011, the United States is still fighting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Both have gone on so long that the public has turned their attention to other things. To me, Tango Atlantico is also about our troops in those two countries. You don’t have to agree with the reasons these wars are fought to appreciate the sacrifices of our soldiers, who volunteered for this with the best of intentions. It seems that there is always a forgotten war being fought somewhere. So, Mr Jackson, your song does not come too late at all.

Dance Moves: Bossa Nova Baby

Tippie and the Clovers: Bossa Nova Baby

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Bossa Nova Baby has been unjustly regarded by some as a bit of a displeasing novelty number from an Elvis movie (1963’s Fun In Acapulco). Even Elvis is said to have been embarrassed by it. If so, he had no cause: it may not be a bossa nova — it’s too fast for that — but it has a infectious tune and a genius keyboard riff which begs to be sampled widely. Perhaps it was the lyrics which had Elvis allegedly shamefaced, but the lines, “she said, ‘Drink, drink, drink/Oh, fiddle-de-dink/I can dance with a drink in my hand’”, are not much worse than some of the doggerel our man was forced to croon in his movie career as singing racing driver/pineapple heir/bus conductor. Or perhaps Elvis was embarrassed by the idea of including a notional bossa nova number in a movie set in Mexico. So here we won’t revisit Elvis’ version of the song, but the original.

Tippie and the Clovers, who were signed to Leiber and Stoller’s Tiger label, recorded the song first in 1962 to cash in on the bossa nova craze. Apparently the composers preferred the Clovers’ version of Elvis’. These were the same Clovers, incidentally, who had scored a #23 hit with Love Potion No. 9 (also written by Leiber & Stoller and later covered to greater chart effect by the Searchers) on Atlantic in 1959.

(photo from farbror-sid.se)

Dance Moves: Little Black Samba

Grover Washington, Jr.: Little Black Samba

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I have a handful of songs on my hard drive that I'm just waiting for the right theme to match, and this is one of them. I could have chosen among 66 other songs I've got with the word "Samba" in the title, but one look and I knew this would be the one. Its rhythm is so infectious and compelling that I'm having a hard time sitting still long enough to write this entry.

In 1980 when Come Morning was released, the saxophonist Grover Washington, Jr., was at the peak of his popularity and was a key artist in the explosion of smooth jazz, a genre of jazz blended with funk, R&B, and pop. This song in particular celebrates the heavy African influence in Brazilian music in both lyrics (sung by the drummer Grady Tate) and rhythm (ably assisted by Eric Gale, guitar; Ralph MacDonald, percussion, and Steve Gadd, drums).

I like its cleverly punned title, too.

Doublespeak -> Dance Moves: Everybody Loves To Cha Cha Cha

Sam Cooke: Everybody Loves To Cha Cha Cha

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James Taylor: Everybody Loves To Cha Cha Cha

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Things heat up a bit as we move from one title theme to another this week, leaving behind songs that use the same word twice to start a set of songs which mention dance styles or dance moves in their title. Yes, folks, it's a Star Maker Machine Dance Marathon, and if it works, I'm hoping it'll become an annual pre-spring event, marking the warming of the world with a bit of energy as we shake off winter with some dance floor moves.

Sam Cooke provides a solid transitional tune with his hot, humid, heavily rhythmic tribute to the Cha Cha Cha, a dance of Cuban origin often referred to doubly in American parlance; Sam's original is a worthy addition to the canon, and it'll certainly teach you how to do the moves, but it's James Taylor's 1991 version, off his sorely underrated Adult Contemporary album New Moon Shine, that brought me here: slow, sultry, languid, and aching with a kind of longing that Sam surely never envisioned, bless his heart.

Doublespeak: Nothing From Nothing

Billy Preston: Nothing From Nothing

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Man, I love me some Billy Preston, so it was an utter shock to discover that not a single one of us has posted his work here at the Star Maker Saloon before today. The keyboard player's "Fifth Beatle" credentials are as strong as any for a reason, and it's here in spades in the perfect Saturday night jam.

So let's get it on, already: check out and turn up the frenetic powerhouse punch of that barrelhouse piano, the miles of horns, the effortless sexuality of that eminently recognizable tenor voice. Sure, you've heard it before - the song was featured prominently in both Elf and Be Kind Rewind, among other fine films - but I'll bet you a buck and a half you just can't help but throw your hands up and rejoice at a world where such utter jubilation can be brought by wire into your very own home.

Doublespeak: Funkadelic Edition

One of the many things I love about P-Funk mastermind George Clinton is his way with a song title. Though he's no Sufjan Stevens, he can get pretty wordy, which increases the chances of hitting a doublespeak candidate.

Here are three then, one each from the first three Funkadelic albums (my favorite part of the entire P-Funk discography, where the psychedelic/Hendrix influence was still pretty strong):

Funkadelic: I Got a Thing, You Got a Thing, Everybody's Got a Thing

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"I Got a Thing" starts us off with a fairly typical hippie sentiment: We're all different, but let's all just get along.

Funkadelic: Free Your Mind and Your Ass Will Follow

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"Free Your Mind" seems like it should be a plea to just let loose and have fun, but the music takes on a sinister feel, which makes you think twice about surrendering to the groove.

Funkadelic: You and Your Folks, Me and My Folks

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"You and Your Folks" is basically a rewrite of "I Got a Thing", but it's a much better song. It also tempers the idealism with a bit of reality: "The rich got a big piece of this and that/The poor got a big piece of roaches and rats".

Of course, dissecting Funkadelic lyrics misses the point somewhat, so step away from your computer and shake that thang!

Doublespeak: When It’s Gone, It’s Gone

Bruce Cockburn: When It‘s Gone, It‘s Gone

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When I have posted songs by Bruce Cockburn before, I have tended to concentrate on his words. The man can be passionate and poetic, often in the same song. And Cockburn is an eloquent spokesman for the oppressed, as well as one of the best writers of songs of the spirit that I know of. Left out of those discussions has been the fact that Cockburn is also a very fine guitar player. Since When It’s Gone, It’s Gone is an instrumental, Cockburn’s prowess on the guitar is impossible to miss here. Actually, those same qualities of passion, poetry, and eloquence are found here as well. Cockburn is joined here by Edgar Meyer on bass, Mark O’Connor on violin, and Booker T Jones on organ. Each of these gentlemen is a master of his instrument, and all are much in demand as session players as a result. In such distinguished company, Cockburn more than holds his own. Liner note freaks will also appreciate knowing that this one was produced by T-Bone Burnett.

Doublespeak: Talk Talk

Talk Talk: Talk Talk

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Talk Talk: Time It's Time

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There's so much doublespeak in this post that I'll have you seeing double!

Here is a pair of songs by the dual-named 80s synthpop group, Talk Talk. The first song is also called Talk Talk, which slots this band with the likes of Bad Company and Big Country – groups synonymously named with their first big hit. Talk Talk started out mining the same pop vein as that other dual-named 80s synthpop group Duran Duran, but by their third album, from which Time It's Time is taken, they've developed a complex, moody, almost oblique style, as if they're trying to channel Carl Orff with that choral stuff at the end.

Plus they have some of the coolest album artwork ever. What's not to like?

Doublespeak: Jump Jump

Garland Jeffreys: Jump Jump

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The late ’70s and early ’80s were a great time for name-dropping in song. Tim Curry did it in the marvellous I Do The Rock, and B.A. Robertson in the 1979 hit Bang Bang. In this 1981 song, Garland Jeffreys goes walkabouts in Paris, referring to Victor Hugo (whose novel Les Miserables, not yet a musical, he’s presently not in a mood for), Rimbaud, van Gogh, Monet and Cezanne as he checks out the Venus de Milo and passes Notre Dame cathedral, inviting us to “jump jump” to all of these as a means of making the “great escape” from the mundanities of daily routine. Jeffreys dedicated the song to his friend John Lennon, a former art student who had been murdered a few months before the album was released.

The song is stuck away at the end of the superior side 2 of Jeffrey’s Escape Artist album, but nonetheless provides the inspiration for the title of the LP, which came with a four-track EP. Among the notable musicians guesting on the album are the E-Street Band’s Roy Bittan on piano and the late Danny Federici on keyboards, and their influence is reflected in the sound of the rock songs (less so, obviously, than they’d be on the reggae numbers). Others who appeared on the Bob Clearmountain-produced album include Lou Reed, the brass-playing Brecker brothers, Nona Hendryx and Linton Kwesi Johnson. One might think that Elvis Costello also chipped in, but it’s just Garland sounding like old Declan on this fine set.

Doublespeak: Seen and Not Seen

Talking Heads: Seen and Not Seen

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Doublespeak - the practice of using ambiguous language… in a deliberate attempt to disguise the truth

That is the definition from Dictionary.com. Our theme is not bound by it, and it probably should not be. But the word doublespeak seems relevant to the song Seen and Not Seen. The title suggests a pair of opposites which are present at the same time. That completely fits David Byrne’s meditation on personal appearance and reality. The song ends with a wonderful punch line, so listen for that.

Doublespeak: Mouth to Mouth Resuscitation

John Hartford: Mouth to Mouth Resuscitation

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John Hartford was a multi-instrumentalist, voice over actor, steamboat captain, and folk composer. He is one of the finest song writers in the folk style that I've ever heard. I don't know why he isn't more famous than he is.

Now, the mystery is that there is very little information on the vast internet about the featured song and the album that it comes from, Gentle On My Mind and Other Originals. Of course, Google searches for Gentle On My Mind return hundreds of references to Glen Campbell's smash hit cover of Hartford's song of the same name. But this wonderful album, being currently out of print, is only available on vinyl and is not even linked at all on Hartford's Wikipedia page. AllMusic provides the only review I could find, but the review is odd (e.g., Mouth to Mouth is referred to as a "chilling" song. Uh, I don't quite hear "chilling". Do you?)

Internet, you have disappointed me. I thought you knew everything.

Here's the bonus: There are two songs on Gentle On My Mind that match this week's theme. The other is the beautiful The Tall Tall Grass. Enjoy.

Doublespeak: Monday, Monday

The Mamas & The Papas: Monday, Monday

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Mondays stink, this classic hit from 1965 does not.

In fact, Mondays stink so much that I am in a rush to get to work on time and can't write more, but I felt if I was going to post this song this week, it needed to be today, for obvious reasons.

Doublespeak: Cold, Cold, Cold

Little Feat: Cold, Cold, Cold

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Little Feat’s Cold, Cold, Cold is a bluesy howl from the gut. It is also a song that may have been released before it was ready. The original version was on the 1972 album Sailin’ Shoes. Producer Ted Templeman may be the one who decided how it should be recorded. The song, in this incarnation, sounds like it was recorded inside a cave, and the distortion is not helpful. The performance is good, but Feat could do better, and it doesn’t quite hit it. Evidently, the band agreed. Two years later, they rerecorded the song in a medley with Triple Face Boogie for their album Feats Don’t Fail Me Now. This version is much better. But I have chosen a third version. This one is only available on a digital-only expanded edition of their live album Waiting For Columbus. The addition of the horn section tips this one over into the category of one of Little Feat’s finest songs.

The Hammond Organ -> Doublespeak: City, Country, City

War: City, Country, City

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If this is doublespeak week, then it seems logical that we'd have two transition songs, right? Not that I really meant to track down another organ-heavy tune, but this one just stood out for me when I listened to it again. I'm a big fan of War, a 70's funk/jazz band from L.A. (well, except for the inexplicable Spill the Wine, but I fault Eric Burdon more for that one). This 13-minute instrumental song is from what many believe is their finest album, 1972's The World is a Ghetto. It features Lonnie Jordan on the organ in what can be described as a deliciously rhythmic blend of Latin jazz and funk.

Enjoy, enjoy!

The Hammond Organ -> Doublespeak: Glory Glory

Al Green: Glory Glory

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Organist and songwriter Charles Hodges isn't necessarily a household name, but his work on the higher end of the Hammond keyboard is quite easy to pick out of a lineup, once you know what to listen for - or to look for on a label. In the same way that Booker T. was the in-house organist for Stax, the distinctive keywork of Charles Hodges, one of three brothers who comprised the core of the Hi Records Rhythm Section [featured above, with Charles standing in the center], can be heard on almost every record from the label during the sixties and seventies, including Ann Peebles' seminal I Can't Stand The Rain, and on many of Al Green's biggest hits, where he lends subtle support to the honey-voiced soul singer.

Our transition song this week isn't famous - it's a true deep cut from Full of Fire, in which the now-Reverend Green began to leave behind his tendency towards emotionally oozing love songs, choosing instead to explore his blossoming religious nature with a record heavy on the gospel soul. But it takes us quite deftly from last week's instrumental focus to a new thematic challenge, wherein we post songs which use the same word twice in their title.

The Hammond Organ: Refugee

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Refugee

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I didn’t really think I would be posting this song. Here it is, the end of the week. Surely someone would have mentioned Benmont Tench by now. But, they left it for me, so here goes.

Benmont Tench may be the best known Hammond organ player active in the music business today. I considered adding to this post work that he has done with Elvis Costello and Jackson Browne, just to name a couple, but I decided to keep it simple. Tench was a founding member of Tom Petty’s Heartbreakers, and the group doesn’t sound the same without him. Usually, he works as part of the ensemble, and he is a master of blending in and contributing to the overall sound. But Refugee features the organ a bit more than Tench’s other work, so I thought it was a good choice. The Hammond organ can make just as big a difference in the background as it does as the featured instrument, and you can here it both ways here.

The Hammond Organ: Yesterday

Una Valli with The Peanut Butter Conspiracy: Yesterday

[Out of print]

I have been reluctant to post this song, mainly because I am usually rather rubbish at identifying the instruments used in songs. When I like a sound, I spend little thought on whether it was made by a customised 4072 Hammond, somebody doing clever things involving a glass filled with pink sludge and a rare reed handpicked by naked maidens in the jungles of unexplored Indonesia, or on a computer. So, I at least think this splendid soul version of Yesterday from 1968 by South African soul singer Una Valli qualifies. It certainly features some sort of organ-like instrument. Possibly even a Hammond.

Had Valli not been from the pop backwaters of South Africa, from which only a few of many very talented artists have escaped, she would be highly regarded among soul fans. She might even have been a star, marketed as a white woman with as much soul as Aretha (and the hype would not have been easily dismissed).

Yesterday appeared on her LP Soul Meeting!!, on which she roped in the services of fellow South African soulsters The Flames and the Peanut Butter Conspiracy. It’s the latter that back Una on Yesterday, the unjustly reviled McCartney composition which has spawned thousands of risible covers. This is one of the few versions that show what a fine song Yesterday actually is.

Also check out Valli’s great version of Satisfaction, from the same album.

The Hammond Organ: King Kong

Odin: King Kong

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When I saw the weekly theme I immediately presumed we'd get Jimmy Smith and 70's progressive rock. Well, I was half right! I sorted through my own collection of Yes and Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, but to be honest, I have a hard time telling where the organ leaves off and the synthesizers begin in most of those songs. I didn't want to embarrass myself by discovering that there was no organ whatsoever in my choice.

And then, just a few hours before the theme was announced, I came across a group and a song I'd never heard of before, and it fits the bill perfectly. Cool! So now we can learn about it together.

Odin was a European prog rock band formed in Germany in 1971. The Hammond organ player is German Jeff Beer, with Dutch guitarist Rob Terstall trading off the solos. They cut one album in 1972, and on the strength of it were invited by German radio station SWF to perform a live set. This song, a Frank Zappa cover, comes from that release. Have a listen to its glorious prog rock-ness.