I’m taking Renfield Jr. to see Bob Dylan next month, so decided to familiarize myself with some of his more recent original material. I think this song’s as brilliant as anything he’s done (admitting that I haven’t heard everything).
What Are They Dancing To?
Here’s a Scopitone of Brook Benton lip-syncing Mother Nature, Father Time while bikini girls apparently dance to something else.
If you’re unfamiliar with Scopitones, they were music video jukeboxes typically placed in lounges and similar adult-oriented locations. It seems that most Scopitones, like the later music-video format, were more about the girls than the songs. (I remember child-oriented ones, but their format and machines had a different name). The videos often had the hubba-hubba vibe of 50’s-60’s softcore men’s magazines (like here and here). Although Procol Harum did one, most rock acts snubbed Scopitones. I imagine they’d started looking dated, like something their dads watched for cheap thrills, down there with carnival peep-shows. One novelty was a live Billy Lee Riley one, unusual in that it’s not lip-synced.
For you film nerds: I can’t verify this, but I know I read somewhere that French (who invented them) Scopitones used Pathecolor, a very early film tinting process that used stenciling. Wikipedia claims that the last use of Pathecolor was the 1954 Mexican surrealist classic, Robinson Crusoe, but it’s often stated that it was used in that august cinematic masterpiece, Dr. Goldfoot & The Bikini Machine.
Seeds Documentary!
Not sure how a doc about some of my favorite proto-punks got past me. This goes straight to the top of my list if it’s available anywhere.
Christmas Past
I’ve got nothing new, but these holiday classics are worth re-posting.
News Flash
Boomers didn’t invent sex.
Power Pop Dictator
If you’ve gone to see a power pop band in recent years, you might have noticed that most fans are pretty old. If you were ever in a band, went to clubs, spent time in an indie record store, or perused online fora, you might have noticed that some power pop devotees can be surly, limited, and intolerant. To be fair, that’s probably true of any genre, but you might expect that all those hooks and harmonies would leave power pop fans happier. Some people grow out of at least some of their intolerances. Some don’t, and this video has a lot of fun with aging sourpuss power poppers. Your mileage may vary, but I found the whole thing hilarious.
Experimental Matrimony
Ah, the emptiness of modern comforts…
Can a song be both great and ridiculous? Fifty years on, I’m still wondering. But I still love this and almost everything from Roxy’s first five albums.
Who Woulda Thought
If someone had told me in the 70’s that Al Green would one day cover Lou Reed, I might have urged that someone to get mental help. But here we are. Predictably, there’s quite a difference. Al sounds like he’s genuinely enjoying a perfect day, whereas Lou sounded like he was suffering through someone else’s idea of one. Maybe he thought he should be enjoying it but couldn’t, or maybe he was enduring it to preserve domestic peace. Or maybe he was participating out of sheer boredom. Or maybe he was mocking someone else’s “perfect day.” Whatever the reason, Lou (or his character) was clearly not thrilled with his perfect day.
A good cover should offer a fresh take on a song, not just fill time or gratify a singer’s narcissism. This qualifies. And Al sounds great for someone pushing 80.
Number Go Up
I’m only halfway through this book, and the author has already gone from innumerable parties of insufferable “crypto bro’s” and NFT suckers in the US and Carribean (the funny parts), to the edge of Cambodian forced-labor complexes where victims of human trafficking are forced to lure marks into sending them bitcoin—so far the only successful real-world application for cryptocurrency (the unfunny parts)— to El Salvador, where almost no one will accept Bitcoin, despite the president’s naming it an official currency. I got the Kindle edition after watching this interview. The book is just as entertaining, if not more. Highly recommended.
And Now For a Bassist Who Sucks
Who’s the opposite of Jamerson or McCartney? Phil Lesh, of course. I could not listen to all of this, I just sampled here and there. What I did hear sounded like the noodlings of a tin-eared fifteen-year-old who recently took up bass. There is nothing remotely interesting going on musically or technically. What he needs is a nun to slap his hand with a ruler.