Shocktober 10/28/20

If you've never heard of the Shaggs, don't worry--they're pretty obscure. I only found about them through "The Steve & Garry Show" back in the '80s, when radio personality Steve Dahl played their music with fair regularity, especially at this time of year.

Why? Well, first of all, they're pretty bloody awful.

No. Seriously. This is likely the worst album you've ever heard. The Wiggins sisters--Dot, Betty, Helen and Rachel--try to play instruments and sing, but are mostly successful at neither. Their father, Austin Wiggins, thought they had talent, though, and got them bookings in their native New Hampshire. He also got them into a recording studio to produce their first album, Philosophy of the World. It got little airplay at the time and faded into obscurity.

Why, you might ask, am I bringing up the Shaggs?

Because one of their songs is entitled "It's Halloween."

That was always one of my favorite songs to play around this time of year. I mean, who can resist lyrics like "It's Halloween, it's Halloween, it's time for scares, it's time for screams, it's Halloween, it's Halloween"?

Wait...where are you going? Come back here, you!

Anyway...this album got a lot of play on my CD player back in the day. And now? Thanks to eBay, I can play it again. It may not be good, but it's good for me--and that is good enough.

Every Picture Tells a Story 8/18/20

 

You might have noticed by now that I'm a huge fan of Roy Orbison--he of the operatic voice on "Crying," "In Dreams," "Pretty Woman" and a whole bunch more.

This three-CD set claims to be "The Ultimate Collection," and I can't argue with that assessment--it features every one of Roy's major his, along with many of his minor hits and B-sides. 

Much as I love the songs mentioned above, I truly dig deeper cuts like "Goodnight," "The Crowd" and "Shadaroba" ("Fate knows what's best for you...") 

Between this set and "The Essential Roy Orbison," which I bought at Rolling Stones Records pre-Pandemic, my Orbison obsession is just about sated.

Every Picture Tells a story 6/25/20

I recently wrote about King of Hearts, an album by the great Roy Orbison that was released four years after his untimely death at age 50 in 1988. 

At the time I wrote that piece, I thought that was his last album of original music--that King of Hearts was the last word on the voice behind "Crying," "Blue Bayou" and "Oh Pretty Woman."

Once again, I was wrong.

I discovered One of the Lonely Ones on Amazon while ordering King of Hearts from an Amazon Marketplace seller. I didn't know anything about the album--had never even heard of it. So I bopped on over to Wikipedia for the skinny on this "lost" Orbison album.

According to Wikipedia, here's what happened:

Apparently, Orbison recorded One of the Lonely ones in 1969 following the deaths of two of his sons in a house fire in September of the previous year. In July 1969, Orbison completed recording for the album, but his record company at the time, MGM, decided to shelve One of the Lonely Ones because of a contract dispute.

And there the album sat. For 40-plus years. 

It was even thought to be lost entirely, but Roy's sons found the master tapes and here I am, headphones on in Mom's living room, listening to "new" Roy Orbison songs for the first time and, as I always do when listening to his music, struggling not to shed a tear or two.

Thanks, Roy's Boys, for finding this truly hidden gem.

Every Picture Tells a Story 6/24/20

You might have thought that the deaths of half its members might prevent any band from continuing to produce music--especially a concert CD featuring performances from the remaining performers.

And, of course, you'd be wrong.

The Monkees Live: The Mike & Micky Show is, as the title implies, a live performance of the band's greatest hits by its two surviving members, Mike Nesmith and Micky Dolenz. (Davy Jones died in 2006, Peter Tork in 2017.)

Both are in fine voice, if a little rougher than they were 50 years ago (then again, who isn't?), and they tour briskly through their catalog, including most of their hits ("Last Train to Clarksville," "Mary, Mary," "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You," etc.) and a few lesser known numbers, like "Circle Sky" and "Goin' Down."

On a warm summer evening, in the cool of the living room air conditioner and spinning on my laptop's CD-ROM drive, The Mike & Micky Show went down as smooth as a margarita served on a sunny patio. (Note to self: Get to an appropriately socially distanced patio and have a margarita before summer ends.)

Every Picture Tells a Story 6/19/20

As previously noted, I've been slowly but surely rebuilding my CD collection, picking up old faves here and there--mostly at Village Discount Outlet and Reckless Records (pre-Pandemic, of course) and occasionally ordering from Amazon Marketplace.

One old fave I recently re-added to my collection? 1000 Fires by Traci Lords. 

Yes, I know what you're thinking: "You've got to be joking--an album by Traci Lords? THAT Traci Lords?

Yes. An album. By Traci Lords. THAT Traci Lords.

1000 Fires is the first (and, so far, only) album by the B-movie actress--and, yes, former underage porn star. 

You might not expect much. But? You might also be surprised.

From the techno beat of the opening track, "Control," Lords brings danceable tunes throughout this album, with a couple of notable exceptions (especially "Father's Field," an account of child molestation), and her voice is remarkably strong from song to song. 

I really love this little album. You might, too.

Every Picture Tells a Story 6/17/20

I was a huge fan of Roy Orbison's music long before I'd ever bought any of his albums. From songs like "Only the Lonely" to "Crying" to "It's Over" ("Your baby doesn't love you anymore..."), Roy's songs always seemed to cut deeper than most love-lost tunes, and his falsetto--hitting notes no human being should ever be able to hit--chilled me beyond the bone.

Like most music fans, I was deeply saddened when Roy, in the midst of a huge comeback, died suddenly on December 6, 1988--coincidentally, Mom's 50th birthday--and lamented loudly that I'd never heart Roy's voice again on a new record.

Of course, I was wrong.

Released in 1992--nearly four years after his death--King of Hearts was a collection of songs left in various stages of production. Some were completely finished; others were no more than demos. Each song got loving production from a number of industry veterans (including Robbie Robertson, who elevated "Love in Time" from a basic vocal track to something magical), and the collection was padded out with a previously released duet rendition of "Crying" with k.d. lang and the original demo for "Careless Heart" (from his previous record, Mystery Girl).

Didn't matter. I still loved it. And now that I have another copy of it via Amazon Marketplace? I still do.

Every Picture Tells a story 3/10/20

Somewhere back in the '90s, JB introduced me to Sarah Vaughan with Michel Legrand, an album of songs written by the latter and sung by the former.

I wasn't into jazz at the time--though my musical tastes were (and are) varied (i.e., all over the map)--you'll find Hank Williams Sr. next to Liz Phair next to the Who next to Howlin' Wolf next to Johnny Cash next to Meat Loaf next to the Rolling Stones next to Fred Astaire...you get the drift.

But jazz? For whatever reason, it didn't register with me.

Then JB loaned me his copy of Sarah Vaughan with Michel Legrand--an album the two musical legends had recorded together in 1972--and my earballs were changed forever.

From Legrand's lush orchestrations to Vaughan's soulful vocals, the album was a lovely blend of two masterful artists at the top of their respective games. And? Vaughan's rendition of "I was Born in Love with You" (from the '70s remake of Wuthering Heights) is enough to reduce the strongest individual to a blubbering mess.

It quickly became one of my favorite albums ever.

Then? The heart attacks happened, and I lost everything--including every CD I owned.

Over the last couple of years, though, I've been slowly rebuilding my collection.

Hank Williams Sr.? Yep.

Liz Phair? You bet.

Meat Loaf and Johnny Cash? Of course and of course.

And now? Sarah Vaughan and Michel Legrand.

My earballs are happy again.

Holidaze 12/20/19

The Beach Boys released their original Christmas album the year I was born--1964, for those who care--and, like every other album they'd recorded to that point, it was a hit, rising to number 6 on the Billboard music chart. The album itself was schizophrenic, though, split evenly between original songs ("Little Saint Nick," "The Man with All the Toys," "Merry Christmas Baby") and more traditional holiday fare ("Frosty the Snowman," "White Christmas"). Throughout, though, the harmonizing the Boys had become famous for.

In 1977, in an effort to satisfy their contract to Warner Bros., the Beach Boys recorded a second Christmas album, only to have it rejected (and shelved) by the studio. It sat in the vault for a couple of decades, until The Beach Boys Ultimate Christmas was released in 1997, with some of the tracks from the aborted 1977 effort included.

I lost my copy of Ultimate Christmas--along with every other CD I owned--when I had to abandon La Casa del Terror back in 2016. However, through the magic of Amazon.com, I landed a copy of the CD last year.

And? I love it to pieces.

Holidaze 12/19/19

Speaking of odd combo platters, you wouldn't expect a Christmas album by the surf rockers behind "Walk, Don't Run" to be as much fun as it is, yet The Ventures' Christmas Album is just that--fun.

From the up-tempo rendition of "Frosty the Snowman" to the delicate turn on "Silver Bells," the Ventures clearly enjoyed making this record. They even followed up with a couple more holiday-themed discs, but I haven't listened to those...yet.

Holidaze 12/18/19

You may think that the holiday combo platter of Art Garfunkel (of "Simon and..." fame) and Christian singer Amy Grant would be an odd pairing for a Christmas album--especially one as "high concept" as The Animals' Christmas by Jimmy Webb. And you'd be right. It is an odd combination.

But you know what? It works. Beautifully.

The concept of the album is simple: It's the story of Mary and Joseph's journey to Bethlehem and the birth of their son, Jesus, but it's told from the perspective of the animals they encounter along the way. Mary is shocked at her pregnancy ("How can this be/I've known no man," Mary sings), but Joseph is tender, warm and determined to find lodging for his wife and child-to-be. All the while, they are pursued by Herod's centurions, who are determined to end the life of "the newborn king"--at all costs.

The animals, though--donkeys and doves and frogs alike--are just as determined to find the family lodging and, ultimately, the way to safety.

Shocktober 10/26/19

Holidaze 12/12/18

I don't buy many CDs anymore, mostly because I don't have a proper CD player. However, my home laptop, Bettie, can play some CDs (some are compatible, some aren't--total crapshoot), and lately I've been bouncing around town, trying to find something that would put me in the holiday mood.

A Christmas Gift for You from Phil Spector? Sure. That works. (Hell, it was what was constantly running through my brain the last time I was in the hospital back in 2016.)

Something from Tony Bennett, maybe? Of course--even though he's in his 90s now, Tony can belt out a tune with the best of the golden-age crooners.

The Beach Boys? That would be great...if I could find their Ultimate Christmas CD...which I can't.

However, there was one that I found at the wonderful Laurie's Planet of Sound (on Lincoln Avenue just south of the elevated tracks) up in my former neck of the woods, Lincoln Square, that works just fine: The Monkees' Christmas Album.

"What's that?" you say. "A Monkees Christmas album? Hell, any Monkees album in 2018? Are you shitting me?"

Nope. Not shitting you at all. This is a real thing.

And more than real? It's good.

Yes, Mickey Dolenz, Peter Tork, Mike Nesmith and Davey Jones all deliver heartfelt renditions of holiday classics such as "The Christmas Song" (you know: "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...") by Nesmith, "Angels We Have Heard on High" (Tork), "Silver Bells" (Jones) and "Wonderful Christmastime" (Dolenz).

No, the Monkees don't perform together at any point--all of the songs are performed individually, not as a group. Dolenz has the overwhelming majority of cuts on the album (nine), and Jones has just two songs on the album--most likely because he died back in 2012. But there are also fun interpretations of more recent Christmas songs, like Andy Patridge's "Unwrap You at Christmas" and Michael Chabon and Adam Schlesinger's "House of Broken Gingerbread."

So I'll be rockin' around the Christmas tree this year to that other Fab Four--the Monkees.

The Song Stuck in My Head This Morning

I rarely get songs stuck in my head anymore, mostly because of the memory issues brought on by the heart attacks I suffered back in June 2015. (I have enough trouble remembering the code for the bathroom at work, much less the lyrics to "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" or "A Day in the Life.")

This morning, though, I've had a particular song running through my brain. A power ballad, in fact, from a most unlikely source:

Kiss.

"Beth" isn't really a Kiss song, though. It was recorded with only one member of the group in the studio, and the least likely to do so: Drummer Peter Criss. He'd co-written the song (with Stanley Penridge) as "Beck," short for Becky, the wife of a bandmate in a group Criss belonged to before Kiss (according to Wikipedia, anyway).

Gene Simmons was apparently opposed to including the song on a Kiss record, and I kind of get his point: the band was known for hard rock, big sound, tongue-wagging and blood-spitting--not gentle ballads devoted to lonely spouses. Cooler heads prevailed, though, and "Beth" made it onto the very Kiss-tastically named "Destroyer" album.

And it went on to be the group's highest charting single.

So there.

(EDITED TO ADD: With this entry, I've written four this year--one more than the last two years...combined.)

At Work Today

Loading holiday music into the work iTunes.

This Morning's Listening Pleasure

Where I'd Like to Be Tonight (But Can't Be)

Concert tickets are expensive these days--so much so that when I found that both the Beach Boys and Fiona Apple would be playing the magnificent Chicago Theatre in the near future, I knew I could attend one show or the other, but not both.

Since the Boys are all one side or the other of 70 and will likely never tour again (at least in its current "all living original members" configuration), I chose them. I would still dearly love to see Fiona Apple someday, preferably in a smaller venue where I could actually, y'know, see her. Unfortunately, given the increasing space between her albums (her previous effort, Extraordinary Machine came out seven years ago), it'll probably be at least a decade before I get the chance again.

Every Picture Tells a Story: 1/31/12

I've read tons of shit written about Lana Del Rey, yet have successfully (thus far, anyway) avoided hearing one note of her music. Even when I watched her (now-infamous) "performance" on Saturday Night Live, I did so with my headphones off; she looked stage-frightened at best and woefully unprepared at worst. Does her music suck that badly, or does it offend the eardrums of the populace because Del Rey seems to have been assembled via focus group? Her first album drops today, so I guess we'll all find out.

All You Need Is Now (and to vote for Jessie!)

If you have a Facebook account and like fine art, fine music or any whimsical mixing of the two, please go here and vote for Jessie and her fabulous Duran Duran artwork. The winner of the contest gets a framed copy of the artwork signed by the band. Does Jessie deserve that? Yes, she does. So please go vote--NOW.

R.I.P. Diane Izzo

It's deeply aggravating to know that you've written something--or, in this case, a couple of somethings--and not be able to find it.

I know I've mentioned Diane Izzo, the Oak Park-born singer/songwriter who passed away after a long battle with brain cancer on Friday at the age of 43.

I could have sworn that I wrote a post some time ago in which I mentioned that her only officially released CD, One, was one of my all-time favorite albums. Or maybe I was thinking about what I wrote on Amazon.com over 10 years ago:

Diane Izzo's "One" hardly sounds like a debut album. Her lyrics are generally dark, disturbing & complex--that could describe a LOT of albums from a LOT of artists out there these days. What sets Izzo apart from the crowd is her strong, odd vocal style: she can break a one-syllable word into three or four parts and can shift from a conspiratorial whisper to a filling-rattling wail with grace and ease. (I'm told that this album doesn't even do her voice justice--that it's even more amazing in person.) In particular, "Wicked Spell" shakes with lingering childhood rage and confusion, while "Venice" comes off giddy and joyful despite contemplations of wild youth, lost love and impending mortality. Couple the lyrics with the vocals, and you get a musical experience that remains embedded in the ears for days afterwards. Any fan of PJ Harvey or Tom Waits would be well advised to give Diane Izzo's "One" a listen (or two or three or...)--you won't regret it.

I also "know" that I wrote a poem about seeing her at Taste of Chicago with Doctor G on a July afternoon that felt like some enormous toddler was holding a magnifying glass to fry masses of ants in Grant Park. (In this scenario, we were the ants.) Diane was playing her usual enthusiastic set when, in the middle of a song, her amp went out. She and her bandmates noodled with it for a few minutes until, obviously frustrated, Diane just kicked the damn thing and, remarkably enough, got it working again. She picked up right where she'd left off, in the middle of that same song.

After the set, I bought my CD up to her and asked for an autograph. She seemed modestly confused or, perhaps, surprised by this. Maybe she didn't get asked for autographs very often, or maybe, given the heat, she just wanted to get off stage and get a drink of water. Whatever the case, she nonetheless graciously signed the CD and said that she was playing at the Double Door in a coupe of weeks.

"I know," I replied. "I already have my tickets."

And so I did.

The Double Door show was much more fun--no equipment problems, no blazing sun--and even though she wasn't the featured act or even the opening one (it was, as I remember, a showcase for several performers/bands. I've always liked the Double Door--it's an intimate venue that's featured many indie groups as well as well-established "big" acts like Cheap Trick and the Rolling Stones--and it was lovely to see and hear without the substantial risk of heat stroke.

Unfortunately, One didn't do all that well, and Diane pretty much disappeared--or so it seemed from my vantage point. In 2008, I found her again on MySpace and sent her a friend request. She not only approved it almost immediately, but also sent a message asking "How are things in Chicago these days?" (She now lived in New Mexico.) I replied that things were, you know, about what she remembered (it was spring, and it was snowing), and I mentioned the fact that One was one of my all-time favorite albums and that she'd signed it for me at Taste of Chicago.

Her reply to my reply: "Hey thanks mentioning One...it's been a long while, but was what it was...at the time. Yeah, I remember that hot day all too well..no water served by the Taste, only tequila = a harsh day in the summer heat!

"Hope that your doing well in CH., miss the solid big shoulders once in a while. NM is slowly warming up to springtime, but prefer the trade off of a expanding urban skyline for wide open big sky & stars."

Chicago Tribune music critic Greg Kot wrote a very nice piece for today's edition, and Jim DeRogatis, Kot's partner on WBEZ's "Sound Opinions," also wrote some kind words as well as reposting his profile of Diane from The Chicago Sun-Times back in 1998. I still have that article, neatly folded and tucked into the CD case of One. It was that article that made me listen to Diane Izzo in the first place. So credit where it's due--thanks, Jim.

And thanks, Diane, for the amazing music. I know you recorded many other songs, and I understand that a lot of those songs will be released in the near future, as well as a movie you were working on.

I just wish you were here to hear that music with us.

Hooray for Dollywood

Happy 65th birthday, Dolly Parton!