I completely missed this one when it aired. I don’t remember hearing about it at all. A little sad, by ’79 the Ramones should have been too big for the Sha Na Na show.
But I did happen to be watching the tube in ’68 when psychedelic proto-punks The Seeds (as The Warts) mimed their biggest hit, the classic pushy-girlfriend-fuck-off song, “Pushin’ to Hard” on a now-forgotten sitcom called The Mothers-in-Law. I bought the album soon after. Oddly enough, that album had been released two years earlier, and they’d released another since, but they were still pushin’ this song on TV. The second verse and guitar break were edited out.
Regular Show is my go to video comfort food. This new series by creator J.G. Quintel was supposed to hit TNT a couple of years ago, but TNT cancelled its animation block (thanks Louis C.K.) and here we are: soon to appear on HBO Max.
Compared to most of Kubrick’s other films, A Clockwork Orange was down and dirty, shot on the cheap. Here are actual locations and a few other goodies. This YouTuber really does his research.
How do you make a futuristic sci-fi movie without building a bunch of crazy sets? In this episode, we take a look at the real futuristic locations and artwork that Stanley Kubrick used for the production design of 1971’s A Clockwork Orange as well as some of the new technology Kubrick used in shooting and recording sound on-location.
The infamous Altamont Speedway free concert happened fifty years ago last Friday. Not many humorous moments on that harrowing day, but a priceless one occurs above at about 3:47 as a Hell’s Angel sizes up Jagger.
Love it or hate it, every serious music nerd should hear this strange album once. A Wizard, A True Star was released in ’73 when I was 15, and I soon became addicted (which might explain some things), although some of it annoyed me and still does. This mash-up of prog, pop, and blue-eyed soul might be the densest, most overly over-dubbed album in history. There is literally zero space unfilled. Because of that, there is almost always something interesting going on, even if the song itself isn’t good. Side one is a medley of song fragments, sort of like side two of Abbey Road produced by a crazier Brian Wilson with access to synthesisers (unfortunately, there’s not a gapless version on YouTube). The medley sometimes gets cartoonish. A portion of side two is a medley of Motown covers, which has always seemed a bit random to me. That said, there are plenty of addictive hooks throughout. Highlights for me are “International Feel” (and its recapitulation, “Le Feel Internacionale,” which ended side 1), “When the Shit Hits the Fan/Sunset Boulevard,” “Sometimes I don’t Know What to Feel,” and “Just One Victory.” The anthemic quality of “Just One Victory” can get annoying, and it’s too long, but it has some great melodic and harmonic twists and turns.
I think Todd was trying to blow up his status as an AM radio pop artist. The previous year he’d had a commercially successful album, Something/Anything?, which was mostly straight-ahead pop ballads and rockers: it contained “Slut,” often covered by Big Star, as well as the power-pop classic, “Couldn’t I Just Tell You.” Something/Anything also yielded a couple of big AM hits, the piano-driven “I Saw the Light” and “Hello It’s Me,” that made some people see him as kind of a male Carole King. I’m guessing that didn’t sit well with him, so he went all-out weird for A Wizard, A True Star. I’m sure there were hallucinogens involved as well. It didn’t sell nearly as well as its predecessor. Fun fact: the month after this album came out, he produced the New York Dolls’ first album.
So what to make of TR? He was a highly talented multi-intrumentalist and producer, a true master of the studio, and a pioneer of power-pop and prog. When everything clicked, he could be a very good songwriter. But he lacked self-censorship. Something/Anything? is a double ablum with way too much filler. It could have been a much better single album. As for AWizard, A True Star, he really needed to rein in some of the self-indulgent goofiness. He produced all his own albums, even playing all instruments on many tracks. He just occasionally needed someone to say “no.” In that regard, he was like an American version of The Move’s Roy Wood, who had the same issues. That may not have been a coincidence. The Move regularly covered “Open My Eyes,” originally by TR’s 60’s band, The Nazz. And the first time I ever heard The Move’s “Do Ya” was TR covering it live.
If any of you bastards are into Audible books, this one is a must. I bought it a couple of years ago, making my second pass now. Riveting.
David Sedaris tells all in a book that is, literally, a lifetime in the making.
For forty years, David Sedaris has kept a diary in which he records everything that captures his attention-overheard comments, salacious gossip, soap opera plot twists, secrets confided by total strangers. These observations are the source code for his finest work, and through them he has honed his cunning, surprising sentences.
Now, Sedaris shares his private writings with the world. Theft by Finding, the first of two volumes, is the story of how a drug-abusing dropout with a weakness for the International House of Pancakes and a chronic inability to hold down a real job became one of the funniest people on the planet.
Written with a sharp eye and ear for the bizarre, the beautiful, and the uncomfortable, and with a generosity of spirit that even a misanthropic sense of humor can’t fully disguise, Theft By Finding proves that Sedaris is one of our great modern observers. It’s a potent reminder that when you’re as perceptive and curious as Sedaris, there’s no such thing as a boring day.