Musician humor at its finest.
Welcome To The Basement
Anybody ever heard of it? These guys are goofy fun (and bad teeth) personified. This episode features one of my all-time favorite cult classics: Phantom of the Paradise. Make that my all-time favorite cult classic. I have to watch it at least once a year, much to my wife’s disgust. And don’t even get me started on the soundtrack. Pure GOLD.
“Welcome To The Basement” is a show about watching, discussing and having fun with movies. Matt choses the movie and Craig doesn’t know what it is until the cameras start rolling, so none of the discussion or riffing is planned ahead of time.
A cinematic odyssey through the rock universe?
Fuck Me, Don’t Tell A Soul Is 30
Released February 1, 1989. This makes me feel older than turning 50. To put it in perspective, this post is the equivalent of the 20-year-old me in 1989 talking about an album that came out in 1959.
Wiki-wiki-wikipedia says …
Don’t Tell a Soul marked the debut of Bob “Slim” Dunlap, who replaced founding guitarist Bob Stinson. The album was recorded at Cherokee Studios in Los Angeles and produced by Matt Wallace and the band. It was mixed by Chris Lord-Alge, who decided to give the record “a three-dimensional, radio-ready sound”. However, singer and guitarist Paul Westerberg was not satisfied with the new direction, commenting: “I thought the little things I’d cut in my basement were closer to what I wanted.”
To celebrate, let’s all take a moment and watch one of my favorite rock ‘n’ roll moments.
As explained by a lesser blog …
Before the show, they were told they needed to change the line, “We’re feeling good from the pills we took.” Well, fittingly, Westerberg did no such thing, and the censors were obviously ready for it, as the tape goes silent during that section of the song. What the censors at ABC didn’t anticipate was this: Near the conclusion of “Talent Show” the lyrics address the time when the band hits the stage and there’s no retreating: “It’s too late to turn back, here we go” is repeated twice on the album version, but here Westerberg has changed the line to “It’s too late to take pills, here we go”—ha! The censors missed it and they’ve pissed everyone off again! To add insult, the line is sung three times.
That Missing Persons EP
Guilty Pleasure Time!
There’s a special place in my heart for the first self-released Missing Persons EP. Although technically, it’s the 1982 re-release I love, the one that replaced the original EP’s “Hello, I Love You” with “I Like Boys.” At this stage in my life, I don’t know if it’s an entirely accurate memory, but it seems like we spent a lot of time blasting this in a friend’s car one summer.
Anyway, as we’re living in the Digital Age, I now present to you the videos for the songs from that glorious EP.
The Muck Monster
When I was a kid, my mom would take me grocery shopping. I would practically run to the magazine stand and then she’d collect me after check out. What she still doesn’t know is that I read TONS of inappropriate shit, from Creepy to Creem and whatever else you can think of. On one of those trips, I came across this story. Me being me, it had a profound effect. Unfortunately, I could never track down a copy as an adult, not knowing the artist, story name, or publication. Occasionally, I would ask other horror fans about it, but no one ever knew what I was talking about.
Of course, after I gave up looking, I accidentally found it online. According to some comic historian with a blog, “The Muck Monster” was originally published in the September 1975 issue of Eerie (#68) as a color insert. Comix International then reprinted it in October 1975, and then, a few years later in November 1979, it was reprinted in black & white for issue 113 of Creepy. (Which is when I must have initially read it.)
So here it is, pretty much as I remembered it. I uploaded the color version because it’s higher resolution, but the black & white version is much more impactful. I should have guessed Berni Wrightson was the artist and writer.
A Personal Letter From Steve Martin
My ancient obsession with comedy legend Steve Martin continues to manifest itself. From Letters of Note …
Celebrities are faced with a dilemma as their star ascends: the fan mail that used to trickle to the front door now needs its own home, and replying to those messages of support is suddenly a full-time job of its own. A small few battle on valiantly, determined to respond personally to each and every piece of correspondence regardless of the trouble, expense or delay; most, however, take the easy, altogether more sensible route and produce a form letter, to be signed and used as a stock reply for every fan. Impersonal and slightly disappointing, yes, but a response nonetheless.
Trust comedy legend Steve Martin to plump for the latter option but still, thanks to a dab of perfectly pitched humour, come out smelling of roses. Back in the day, he replied to fan mail with “A personal letter from Steve Martin,” a form letter in which just a few words were personalised for each recipient, and which was hilarious precisely for that reason. This particular example was sent to a 17-year-old fan named Jerry Carlson in 1979, the year The Jerk, arguably one of the funniest films he has ever starred in, was released.
There Was A Light
Today on the Please Kill Me blargh, Bruce Eaton, author of Big Star’s Radio City (33 1/3 series) chats up Rich Tupica, author of There Was A Light: The Cosmic History of Chris Bell and the Rise of BIG STAR, the recent Chris Bell biography.
Check it out here!
Just as an aside, when social media first made me aware of the Chris Bell book, I didn’t make any plans to read it. The whole thing seemed rather sketchy, a paperback written by an author I wasn’t familiar with, published by HoZac Records. I wasn’t a huge fan of that cover (it’s growing on me), and besides, it was $40.00! For a paperback! When it sold out, I figured that was that.
But since then, all I’ve seen are glowing reviews. So when I read the PKM piece this morning, I checked the HoZac site for a status update. Second printing is shipping now, and I’ve got a birthday coming up.
After FIVE solid years of painstaking research and hard work, Rich Tupica’s epic tome on the deep end of the BIG STAR story is ready. At 400+ pages, There Was A Light is stocked with a wealth of previously-unseen color photos, personal ephemera from the Bell family’s archive, as well as everything Ardent Studios could jam in, it’s nothing short of breathtaking stuff! Starting with intense coverage of Bell’s childhood bands and continuing deep into his post-Big Star solo work, this book delves into the details beyond the documentary, distilling countless hours of minutiae into a riveting oral history of one of rock’n’roll’s most beloved cult bands, and a trip through Memphis underground music history like no other.
Happy birthday to me
Happy birthday to me
I look like a monkey
And snobby rock books ain’t free
Har Har
I collect vinyl and this is still hilarious.
Steve!
Youngsters watching this today won’t realize how funny and irreverent this was for 1978. You just didn’t make fun of self-important movie stars like this back then.