An obvious fake, or those choristers wouldn’t be keeping straight faces. I died laughing anyway.
Pop-Punk Candy
Mrs. Renfield put me on to this sugar rush of an album (really more like a longish EP). Many tracks are one-idea songs, but who cares when the hook’s good and they don’t belabor the idea: all but one are under two minutes. It so happens this band/person/whatever played Gonerfest last week, although it was an afternoon slot on a 90-degree-plus day, so can’t say I’m sorry I missed them. But this stuff hits my sweet spot. Good hooks throughout. Here’s another:
Children of Despair
In the 50’s or 60’s, Marshall McLuhan coined the term “class transvestism” to describe the then-recent trend of leisure-class youth wearing jeans, which previously had been worn mostly by people who actually worked for a living. I think the term also applies to some current well-heeled parents who expensively dress their children like storybook orphans or 18th C. French peasants. It’s just not cool to look rich, but you need to be rich to look poor in a non-Walmart way. Throw in some kids who are very good at looking grim, and you’ve got something that looks straight out of the rollicking Werner Herzog.
There are more videos about clothes. They’re all hilarious.
But wait! There are toys too.
Friday Fanaticism
This guy again. I think he’s schizophrenic.
Gerhardt Leigh Ludvig!
Thanks to G for mentioning this album in the Nashville Teens comments, which got me to finally listen to it. If you haven’t heard it, it’s a smoker. Jerry Lee’s in top form, and the Nashville Teens are red-hot.
There’s something funny about Germans going apeshit over Jerry Lee Lewis.
Many Memphians have Jerry Lee stories. Mine might be unique, as it does not involve sex, drugs, or guns (maybe because I never encountered him personally). Anyway, back in the mid-80’s I dated a girl for a while who lived downtown at the Waterford, which overlooks the Mississippi. Her apartment was a couple of stories down from the penthouse, where JL was living at the time. I never saw him (although said girl claimed he hit on her in the elevator a couple of times–he was in his 50’s and she was 19 or 20), but sometimes we could hear him playing. On nice evenings we’d hang out on her balcony. He must have had his balcony door open to catch the river breeze, because we could very clearly hear him practicing and noodling around. So I have this sort of magical memory of our lounging on the balcony, drinking beer, watching the sunset over the river, enjoying the breeze, and eavesdropping on the great JL playing the piano. A good time for sure.
The Smoke
The Smoke seemed destined to be the greatest British band of the 60’s. Read on for their sad tale of record industry greed, radio station indifference, distribution mishaps, managerial exploitation, personal tragedy, substance abuse, mental instability, and an apathetic, capricious and philistine public…
Just kidding! They seem to be a classic 60’s case of one-hit wonders. I’d never heard this song until it popped up in my YouTube feed the other day. It became a big hit in Germany in ’67 (the year I moved, so I never heard it), but in England its progress up the charts was knee-capped by the BBC for drug references (the BBC did such a great job keeping young Brits off drugs). The most remarkable thing about this band is that not one of them did anything noteworthy before or after this song. Usually when you look into British bands with a hit during this period, you’ll find that at least one or two of them before or after played with someone you’ve heard of. But not these guys. Anyway, it’s a pretty good song and worth hearing.
Right-Hand Man
Roy’s right hand was an instrument in itself. Stunning strumming.
Another One
I can’t get enough of these. The noises and timings are too perfect.
Har Har
I loved SCTV because nothing was too stupid, goofy, or weird for them to air.