If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It) (Bon Scott vocals)
Bad Boy Boogie (Scott)
Whole Lotta Rosie (Scott)
What Do You Do For Money Honey (Johnson)
Soul Stripper (Scott)
Let’s Get It Up (Johnson)
Go Down (Scott)
Givin The Dog A Bone (Johnson)
Girls Got Rhythm (Scott)
Got You By The Balls (Johnson)
Problem Child (Scott)
Walk All Over You (Scott)
Shot Down In Flames (Scott)
Baby Please Don’t Go (Scott)
Down Payment Blues (Scott)
Hell Ain’t A Bad Place To Be (Scott)
Live Wire (Scott)
High Voltage (Scott)
Bedlam In Belgium (Johnson)
Night Prowler (Scott)
Rock N Roll Damnation (Scott)
So, behold my AC/DC show for Saturday, Oct. 1. Of the 25 studio recordings, 18 are sung by the late Bon Scott, the band’s original lead vocalist, and seven by Brian Johnson, who replaced Scott starting with 1980’s blockbuster Back In Black album. The numbers don’t lean heavily one way because I like Scott’s songs better; I’m a big AC/DC fan and have no preference between the singers. But, in putting the set together I was cognizant of the fact Johnson’s been at the helm vocally for just over 40 years now while Scott was the frontman for about five years before his death so perhaps subconsciously I wanted to favor Bon in terms of volume, since he obviously can’t contribute anymore. So the set just came together as it did. For my own listening pleasure, some years ago I burned seven (!?) CDs of AC/DC material – two discs featuring both singers plus a Bon 1 and 2 and a Brian 1, 2 and 3, from which I drew much of this set. At some point I may do separate shows with each singer, or a set more heavily featuring Johnson-sung material. I couldn’t help but smile while putting it together, given some of the song titles and lyrics, which support what Johnson was once quoted as saying: “We’re a filthy band.”
The Rolling Stones, Sparks Will Fly . . . One of those latter day Stones’ songs, from 1994’s Voodoo Lounge album, that perhaps is known only to aficionados of the band but, in another time, might have been a hit single. The whole album is arguably that way. Guitar World magazine, in a retrospective 2014 review, had the record at No. 42 on its ‘Superunknown Top 50 iconic albums that defined 1994’ list which, naturally, featured Soundgarden’s great album Superunknown from that year.
Dead Kennedys, Police Truck . . . It’s fun perusing YouTube comments on songs. Two come to mind re this ‘message track’, musically speaking, which could apply to most if not all Dead Kennedy’s songs: “This band has a kinda creepy sound to their music,’ says one observer. “It’s due to the guitar playing. It’s like evil surf rock,” responds another person. Yes.
David Bowie, D.J. . . . That’s me, your DJ. A minor hit single, Talking Heads-like, from Bowie/s1979 Lodger album.
Talking Heads, Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On) . . . And here’s they are, from the excellent Remain in Light album, in their style of the time.
Sugarloaf, Don’t Call Us, We’ll Call You . . . Little wonder this was a hit single, from two-hit wonders Sugarloaf, the other being Green Eyed Lady. I don’t usually play hit singles on this deep cuts show but, what the hell. Sometimes I do, and after all, It’s So Old It’s New. It came up while searching something else. A nascent Van Halen, I also discovered, did a cover of Don’t Call Us in 1975. That version is available on a bootleg recording on YouTube. David Lee Roth introduces it by saying “I was against doing it when we learned it, but check it out, it’s good.” And it is.
Big Sugar, Skull Ring . . . Reggae rock from the Canadian band. Good thing we’re listening to it on the radio, not live, so you can control the volume. Great band, but geez they play too effing loud, or at least did. Saw them once in a club in Toronto, 2004. Good show but my ears were ringing for three days and I was on the verge of seeking treatment, really, before things got back to normal, thankfully. One and done seeing them live, for me, as a result. Yeah, call me an old fart but try them sometime. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Unnecessarily loud.
The Police, Shadows In The Rain . . . It was raining, on and off in my town this weekend, perhaps inspiring this terrific track from Zenyatta Mondatta.
Fleetwood Mac, Sugar Daddy . . . I came upon this one, written and sung by Christine McVie, in the station computer system while searching Big Sugar songs. It wasn’t a single, but may as well have been given the airplay the band’s self-titled 1975 album justifiably received. It was the first one with Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham in the band, marked a shift in musical direction, yielded hit singles like Over My Head, Rhiannon and Say You Love Me and two years later came the similar but bigger commercial monster Rumours.
Jeff Beck, Head For Backstage Pass . . . To say Jeff Beck is eclectic is, well, it goes without saying. Short, sweet, superb, from his 1976 album Wired, his second straight great instrumental album, Blow By Blow the previous one.
Peter Frampton, White Sugar (live) . . . Another one I noticed during the Big Sugar search. Originally on the Frampton’s Camel studio album in 1973, it was played on the tour that yielded the blockbuster breakthrough Frampton Comes Alive in 1976 but didn’t appear on the first issue of that album but was included on subsequent expanded re-releases, beginning with the 25th anniversary set. It’s interesting how Frampton’s solo studio stuff was not so much ignored as it didn’t do well, commercially, when he came out of Humble Pie but then boom, the live album happened and the rest is history. Same thing happened, to varying degrees, with Kiss and Kiss Alive and Bob Seger and Live Bullet, both of which arguably fueled the double live album trend of the 1970s that Paul McCartney took one full vinyl record further with his triple Wings Over America.
Bob Dylan, Man Of Peace . . . Put on your best “how does it fee-el” Bob Dylan voice and sing “you know that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.” Yes, evil people do just that and there are many in our midst, always. Great song, great lyrics, from 1983’s Infidels.
Electric Light Orchestra, Tightrope . . . Never a single but a well-known cut by ELO. It’s the first song on the 1976 album A New World Record, was played extensively live and to me with its orchestral opening seguing into rock and roll would have been a great concert opener and perhaps it was although I can’t find much evidence of that on the various set list sites. ELO lost me after the 1970s but boy, were they big then. I remember the Out Of The Blue album tour, 1978. Well, not actually, I didn’t go so I wasn’t among the 70,000 or so at Toronto’s Exhibition Stadium. I didn’t like ELO THAT much and, frankly, glad I didn’t because from what I’ve seen they’re kinda boring live. Great studio band and songs, though. And, I have seen the show on YouTube (search Electric Light Orchestra Live in USA 1978) and I remember reading about it. They had a flying saucer stage setup that opened to reveal the band, although you don’t see the saucer on the concert film which tells me whoever posted the video should have prefaced it with Jefferson Airplane’s song Have You Seen The Saucers? But you can’t expect such depth of music knowledge from most people. And besides, a flying saucer opening I don’t think compares to Pink Floyd crashing a model airplane while playing On The Run live.
Donovan, Atlantis . . . It’s worth reading about this great song, how the various record company people on either side of the pond debated it as being either an A- or B-side, thinking its spoken-word early part would not resonate. But as often happens, the execs didn’t properly read how the public hears or otherwise accepts things that the so-called experts deem to not be of value. In short, it became a hit, and justifiably so.
Flash and The Pan, Atlantis Calling . . . Well, I just had to play this after playing the Donovan track. And, as listeners/followers of the show know, Flash and The Pan remains one of my favorite bands. I won’t drone on, OK maybe just a bit, about how Harry Vanda and George Young, the brains behind the band, produced early AC/DC records, with George Young being the older brother to AC/DC’s Angus and Malcolm Young.
Streetheart, Can You Feel It . . . I originally had this rocker pegged for my debut So Old It’s New ‘2” show this past Saturday which featured kick-ass hard-rocking tunes but given the nature of much of what I played, I took it out as not ‘hard’ enough to fit the theme. It could have, still, but anyway I went with a different lineup so here it comes at you tonight.
The Yardbirds, A Certain Girl . . . I’ll be honest. I actually prefer Warren Zevon’s cover of this to the Yardbirds’ version but I’ll admit it’s also perhaps a production thing, 1960s to 70s-early 80s achievable sounds, akin to Aerosmith maybe doing a better job on Train Kept A Rollin’ than did the Yardbirds. Then again, the guitar solo just kicked in so dismiss everything I just said and besides, given Clapton was in the Yardbirds, it sets up the next song, which was my intention in the first place.
Eric Clapton, Next Time You See Her . . . A Certain Girl…Next Time You See Her…Get it? Oh, shut up, Bald Boy with your silly word play. Always loved this one, from Slowhand which, as I’ve said before when I’ve played stuff from it, is just a brilliant album, excellence personified track for track.
Neil Young, Come On Baby Let’s Go Downtown . . . Great song from Tonight’s The Night and another deliberate setup for my next tune.
Petula Clark, Downtown . . . I’ve always loved this song and forever will. One of the first songs I remember hearing, in 1964, age 5, along with early Beatles and Rolling Stones songs. Was a hit, of course, and this is a deep cuts show but as my mantra goes, So Old It’s New (with occasional long lost or unknown singles like the Sugarloaf song I played earlier) and to some or many, it may be new. Clark never matched Downtown commercially but she had lots of great stuff like I Know A Place, My Love and many more. Just a great singer, one of those you might listen to beyond Downtown and think, oh, that’s her?
John Lee Hooker and Canned Heat, Burning Hell . . . This is the full version, from Hooker N Heat, with about 90 seconds of pre-song dialogue between Hooker and the band, well worth hearing before the typical sort of Hooker shuffle backed the Heat.
Canned Heat, Fried Hockey Boogie . . . And here’s the Heat, on their own. Playing it largely because not only do I like Canned Heat but perhaps unbelievably, although it’s believable of course because it’s happening, it’s already hockey season again with teams in camp and pre-season games at all levels being played.
Faces, Wicked Messenger . . . Faces do Dylan, from their first album, First Step, after the breakup of The Small Faces, with Rod Stewart and Ron Wood now in the band. Dylan’s song appeared on his 1967 John Wesley Harding album. Another of those tunes that’s worth reading up on, given its Biblical inspirations, that space here does not permit.
Tom Waits, Clap Hands . . . I love Tom Waits’ music, which sometimes isn’t even conventional music. Sometimes he reminds me, vocally, of the teacher in the old Charlie Brown cartoons you’d see on TV, wah wah, wah wah wah, wah. Like Dylan sometimes, almost not understandable. Yet great, This song isn’t one of those but I just thought I’d mention it. Not to mention the fact Keith Richards of The Rolling Stones, my favorite band, played on the album from which this comes, Rain Dogs.
Van Morrison, Till We Get The Healing Done . . . Maybe a sequel, sounds sort of like one, from his 1979 song I cherish, And The Healing Has Begun from Into The Music but regardless, another brilliant, extended, Van The Man tune. From 1993’s Too Long In Exile album.
Lynyrd Skynyrd, Don’t Ask Me No Questions . . . I haven’t played Skynyrd in a while. Wanted to play some. I threw darts at the board because you can’t go wrong with Skynyrd. This hit the bullseye.
Pink Floyd, Eclipse . . . I spoke of Pink Floyd and crashing a plane and all that, earlier in tonight’s set. So, here they are. It’s perhaps folly to pull a separate track from an album like The Dark Side Of The Moon because all of the songs flow together in an artistic statement, but so be it. It’s probably, even subconsciously, why thanks to a station slot opening I’ve started my new Saturday morning show (7 to 9 am ET) because not only does it give me two more hours a week to play with but will enable me to not only fit more music in beyond Mondays but do themed shows, full album plays and so on. And The Dark Side Of The Moon is obviously and definitely a full album play candidate. This coming Saturday, Oct. 1, though, I’m leaning towards an AC/DC show split between Brian Johnson and Bon Scott vocals.
Aalaa, Abdullah, and Ayla Rehman of #CANYouthVoteMatter #CANMinorityVoteMatter join Bob Jonkman in the studio. We discuss the importance of voter engagement, we get to know the Rehmans, and Abdullah spins some tunes.
Introducing Aalaa, Ayla, and Abdullah. Aalaa makes a land acknowledgement, makes a pitch for donations, and tells us what the #CANYouthVoteMatter #CANMinorityVoteMatter show is about, and her motivations for doing a radio show. Talking about the poor voter turnout, getting every vote out. Looking for candidates.
Learning about Abdullah, Ayla, and Aalaa outside of politics. Besides school there are lots of extracurricular activities. Ayla has written a book, The Fantastic Friends: Snake Goes Crazy. And the three siblings have written several other comics and stories. And all three are musicians and play in a guitar club.
Narine Dat Sookram is the first guest on Sunday; Aalaa, Ayla, and Abdullah have been on Narine’s show, Let’s Chit Chat with Narine Dat. Aalaa tells us how she finds candidates to interview. Contact information for any candidates if they want to be interviewed. Then Abdullah plays some music.
Murray McLauchlan, Hard Rock Town . . . not the hardest rocking tune, but appropriate to introduce the rest of this week’s ‘wake up the neighbors’ hard rocking show. I plan to get back to full commentaries for this new Saturday show (in addition to my 8-10 pm ET Monday show), next week.
Keith Richards, Whip It Up . . . From Richards’ first solo album, Talk Is Cheap, 1988. Solo albums were something Richards previously had said he didn’t want or need to make because he could fulfull his creativity within The Rolling Stones. But, as is well-documented, by the 1980s the relationship between him and Mick Jagger was almost (but thankfully not) irreparably frayed so Richards finally relented, almost in response to Jagger’s debut solo album, She’s The Boss, of the previous year. Mick won the sales battle, Keith that of the critics, many referring to his album as the best Stones album in years. By 1989, they were back together for the Steel Wheels album and tour, the reunion coming with the realization that band members, particularly the two chief songwriters, could do solo work without sinking the mother ship.
George Thorogood & The Destroyers, Howlin’ For My Baby . . . Typical Thorogood raunch, from the Haircut album.
Styx, Prelude 12/Suite Madame Blue . . . Not a Styx fan, really, one of my younger brothers was major into them during the 1970s and I know and like their hits. But this well-known but arguably deep cut may be my favorite.
Garland Jeffreys, 96 Tears . . . Great cover of ? And the Mysterians’ big hit. It prompted me to buy Jeffreys’ Escape Artist album, to further reward.
Johnny Winter, Memory Pain . . . I played Edgar last week, so here’s Johnny, this week.
Love, Signed D.C. . . . Beautiful song, my favorite by Love, about a harrowing subject, heroin addiction.
Aerosmith, The Hop . . . From Done With Mirrors, a relative commercial failure from 1985. It was the last release, and a down and dirty one it was, from Aerosmith before their big comeback, often using outside writers, via such albums as Permanent Vacation, Pump and so on. All good stuff, but I still prefer the earlier material. As someone on a rock show I watched the other day said, the more cleaned up from drugs and booze the boys in Aerosmith became, the worse their music got – at least to those of us more fond of the raunchier stuff.
Buckwheat Zydeco, The Wrong Side . . . From Memory Motel: Inside The World Of Keith Richards, a collection of the Rolling Stones’ guitarist’s favorites, from various artists. I have own a Buckwheat compilation but pulled this one from a rock magazine I bought some years ago. It was on one of those promo CDs stuck to the cover. One never knows where one finds music, which is the beauty of it.
Pretenders, Bad Boys Get Spanked . . . Pretenders II didn’t have the immediacy, or the hits, of the self-titled debut by the band, but it’s still a solid record, evidenced by this propulsive track. Concrete Blonde, a band I like very much, might have been listening in 1981 when this was released, because Ghost Of A Texas Ladies Man, released in 1992 on their Walking In London album, seems very much influenced by it.
Van Halen, Dirty Movies . . . No bit hits on it aside from Unchained, but Fair Warning might be my favorite Van Halen album, although that’s a dangerous thing to say because, as I often say and believe, the best album or band or artist ever is the one you are listening to right now, if you like it. And I like the deep, dark tone of this record, and this tune.
Alice Cooper, Luney Tune . . . I’ve mentioned it before and it’s obvious but nevertheless amazing/crazy how the brain works. Or maybe it’s just me. Somehow or other the other day, while perusing YouTube in watching a music show I like, I happened upon some old Flintstones cartoons – Fred and Barney were bowling – which then got me thinking about old cartoons, like the classic Looney Tunes stuff (Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, The Roadrunner, Tweety and Sylvester, etc.). Which then brought me to this deep Luney Tune, different spelling, from the School’s Out album.
Patti Smith, Midnight Rider . . . Back to the Twelve album I go. It’s the covers album Smith released in 2007 and well worth checking out. This time, she tackles the great Allman Brothers Band tune.
The Allman Brothers Band, Can’t Lose What You Never Had . . . Speaking of which, the Allmans themselves tackle a cover, in this case a Muddy Waters song. It appeared on 1975’s Win, Lose or Draw album.
Steppenwolf, Desperation . . . Bleak yet hopeful “think positively’ lyrics set to an appropriately dark arrangement on this one, from Steppenwolf’s debut, 1968. The album gave us Born To Be Wild as well as The Pusher and Sookie Sookie, among others.
The Tragically Hip, Bring It All Back . . . Bluesy, raunchy, great guitar on this terrific cut from Road Apples.
Fairport Convention, Sloth . . . I’m feeling lazy. I think I’ll listen to Fairport Convention for nine minutes and change.
Graham Parker and The Rumour, Empty Lives . . . Great tune, great lyrics including the line ‘on the up escalator going down all the cracks’ that gave its parent album, The Up Escalator its name and was my full blown intro to Parker in 1980, having somehow at first missed the previous breakthrough, Squeezing Out Sparks. Anyway, I quickly caught up, went back and then forward with the then ‘angry young man” but soon enough, he found domestic bliss, the music got worse the happier he became and I lost interest. But, good for him on the home front. I have no idea what he’s up to, at home or on record, since about 1991. That’s when, after several albums I bought by habit and loyalty until I realized I was wasting money, I gave up. He’s still out there, though, and I’m not usually so judgemental so perhaps I should pay an old friend a visit sometime. OK, I just did. Verdict? No. Sorry GP. Cloud Symbols, from 2018, cool album cover but…and you know you’re pretty much done commercially when you redo Squeezing Out Sparks, acoustically, as a 40th anniversary reissue for 2019. As well, it’s trouble when you can’t even link to any albums on Wikipedia since 1991. I think I’ll stick to my early stuff plus the terrific compilation Passion Is No Ordinary Word: The Graham Parker Anthology, from 1993. I’m not really that down on GP, just having fun because one could say similar things about lots of longtime artists and I do have immense respect for the fact they’re still out there and in many cases still very successful. Just not necessarily for me, anymore. And the stuff they did that I do like is obviously readily available to listen to at any time. “He passed it on” as Keith Richards has said about musicians’ legacies.
Robert Plant, Like I’ve Never Been Gone . . . So, it’s two years after John Bonham dies and Led Zeppelin calls it quits and Plant does what one would think would come naturally and kudos to him, he pursues a solo career with a terrific first album, Pictures At Eleven, from which I pulled this song. And more has consistently come, from Plant, up until the present day. Meantime, his partner in songwriting/plagiarizing crime Jimmy Page spends his time trying to get Plant to reunite while dabbling in some semi-successful bands like The Firm and Coverdale-Page while endlessly remastering and reissuing Zep albums. OK, rant over. Next!
Aretha Franklin, The Weight . . . Aretha does The Band’s tune, helped by Duane Allman on guitar on one of many sessions he did outside and often before forming The Allman Brothers Band. I’ve mentioned it before but there’s two terrific Duane Allman collections out there – An Anthology and An Anthology 2 – featuring the band’s work but arguably more interestingly, his session stuff. Find them, by however means. You won’t be disappointed.
Elvis Costello, Riot Act . . . Speaking of angry young men like Graham Parker who I eventually gave up on. . . Well, as with every artist, we have what they’ve left behind in recorded form. Terrific cut from Get Happy!
Bruce Cockburn, What About The Bond . . . I’ve probably played this too recently, but so what? I love the Humans album, arguably Cockburn’s best, and I’ve always liked this track. So, here it is.
Warren Zevon, Genius . . . This is a superb song. Lyrically, of course, because Zevon was such a great writer. So much so that sometimes, his lyrics arguably overshadow his music and you need good music to pull people into listening to your lyrics. Mission accomplished here. The late great must have liked the song a lot himself, bccause one of his compilations, released in 2002 a year before his death, was titled Genius: The Best of Warren Zevon. It originally appeared on the studio album, My Ride’s Here, released earlier the same year.
The Who, However Much I Booze . . . I was discussing drinking with a friend the other night. This is the result, at least in terms of my set for this show.
Joni Mitchell, This Flight Tonight . . . A big hit for Nazareth, of course, so much so that Mitchell took to jokingly introducing it as “a Nazareth song’ when she played it live. It’s one of three examples that come immediately to my mind of a hard rock band taking a folk tune or ballad, rocking it up, getting a hit out of it and, arguably, redefining it. The others are Jimi Hendrix with Bob Dylan’s All Along The Watchtower and Joan Baez’s tearjerker Diamonds and Rust reinvented by Judas Priest. All of which tells you a further cool thing; it doesn’t matter what genre you actually work in, most people listen to everything with an open mind and in the case of musicians, obviously think, “We can do something with that.” And they do, with often wonderful results although I like Dylan’s original a lot and Baez’s Diamonds and Rust, her paean to former flame Dylan, often brings tears to my eyes.
The Guess Who, Bye Bye Babe . . . As we say bye bye for another week, on Mondays at least. Starting this Saturday morning, Sept. 24, I’m beginning a new show, So Old It’s New 2, from 7-9 am. The station has some available slots open, so I’m filling one and going to wake up the neighbors with more of the same of what I currently do but I’m also going to use the extra slot for stuff that I can’t cram into my Monday show, or I may do some themed shows like heavy rock/metal, or reggae, or punk/new wave, or full album plays. It’s a blank canvas I plan to fill by following my muse.
Nothing but music this week, so no podcast, no bonus footage, no image gallery. Just music. Two hours worth! And it’s our SOCAN ratings week, which means that any musicians played today will receive oodles of royalties (for extremely low values of “oodles”). To maximize this economic windfall for Waterloo Region, most of the music is KWCon.
Stray, Feel Like I’ve Been Here Before . . . Yeah, like last Monday evening, I was here before, playing tunes. OK, I stole the line from a Star Trek The Next Generation episode. Cause and Effect, where the Enterprise crew is caught in a time loop and keeps repeating the same scenario during which the ship is destroyed during a collision with another vessel, also caught in the loop. As the crew begins to experience deja vu, Lt. Worf, during the officers’ weekly poker game, says that he feels like he’s done this before to which First Officer Riker says, ‘yeah, last Tuesday night.” But all soon deduce that something is up. As for the song, it’s a riff rocker by Stray, a band I’ve played before and discovered some years ago now via a terrific compilation called I’m A Freak, Baby – A Journey Through The British Heavy Psych and Hard Rock Underground Scene, 1968-72. There’s since been a I’m A Freak, Baby 2 and, I discovered the other day, a No. 3 I’ll have to pick up. A great way to discover some great, obscure music.
Edgar Winter, Give It Everything You Got . . . Funky rocker from the White Trash album, 1971.
Blue Oyster Cult, Stairway To The Stars . . . From the debut, self-titled BOC album in 1972. It’s the first of three from the so-called Black and White period covering the first three records (Blue Oyster Cult, Tyranny and Mutation and Secret Treaties) even though there’s red in some of the album covers. Many fans consider the first three albums the zenith of BOC’s career, before the big hits like (Don’t Fear) The Reaper and Burnin’ For You when the band went more commercial. I like all of it but the first three records are spookier and more experimental, certainly for the time, and therefore were influential on the hard rock and metal scene.
Steve Hackett, Star Of Sirius . . . Guitarist Hackett was still in Genesis when he issued his first solo album, Voyage of the Acolyte, in 1975. It features bandmates Mike Rutherford on bass and drummer (and lead singer on this track) Phil Collins. As such, it could be a Genesis album and in some ways, lead singer Peter Gabriel having departed, set the stage for the next phase of Genesis’s career, as Hackett relates in the liner notes to a 2005 reissue of his album. “Phil Collins sang lead vocals on Star of Sirius, which in hindsight might be seen as perhaps paving the way for him taking over as singer in Genesis . . . The album was very well received and I think all of us in the band felt that if there was such an amount of interest in my solo career, then there would certainly be a large amount of interest in anything the four of us (including keyboard player Tony Banks) as Genesis could produce.” Hackett was right on two counts – his record gave the band the confidence to produce the excellent first post-Gabriel album, A Trick of the Tail, and also gave him confidence to fully strike out on his own, which he did after Wind and Wuthering, which followed A Trick of the Tail.
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Born To Move . . . Ridiculously great band, CCR, and so much more than their many hits, as this funky, jazzy jam tune from the Pendulum album confirms. Remarkably prolific, remarkably consistent, and obviously great, Pendulum being the band’s second studio album of 1970. The lazy bastards were slacking off after releasing three, 3! studio records in 1969.
Jack Bruce, How’s Tricks . . . Funky title tune from The Jack Bruce Band’s 1977 album, which was trashed by critics, many of whom, of course, are not progressing past the admittedly great Cream records on which Bruce played such a large part. Two critics’ quotes I pulled from the web about the album: “An uninspired set of 10 lacklustre tunes.” and “A journeyman effort hardly worth dredging up.” Whatever. Did you actually listen, more than once? Didn’t think so.
Dave Edmunds, As Lovers Do . . . As we enter the, by titles at least, “relationships gone bad’ phase of the set via this country-ish Edmunds’ tune. “We’re just falling out of love, as lovers do.” Some lovers. Some stay together, despite everything; some dissolve, despite what in retrospect may have been easily overcome issues.
Ry Cooder, Alimony . . . And then, sometimes, comes what Ry is ruminating on and the lawyers all go home richer.
Genesis, Robbery, Assault and Battery . . . You just knew I’d get back to Genesis after playing the Steve Hackett tune and mentioning the A Trick of the Tail album earlier, didn’t you? Regular show followers, if they know me at all, had it nailed right off but were just wondering whether I’d get to it immediately after Hackett (which is just what one might be expecting) or wait a bit. I waited. And the title could fit into the relationship theme.
The Kinks, To The Bone . . . As could this fine Kinks’ tune, as in taken financially to the bone. It’s the title cut to a terrific, somewhat unplugged, live album that became the band’s final release, in 1994. The album features myriad Kinks’ hits pulled from their 1993-94 US and UK tours, plus some played to a small audience at the band’s Konk Studios. To The Bone was a new studio track recorded at that time by the band and, to me, says they had much of value left in the tank. The Kinks are one of my favorite bands, often criminally overlooked against the widespread appeal of their original British Invasion mates like The Beatles, Rolling Stones and Who. I’ve continued to follow the careers of the Davies brothers, Ray and Dave, via their solo work but I’d submit that, as with the similarly often at odds Gallagher brothers of Oasis fame, the solo work doesn’t hold up against what they produced together. That said, I’d prefer both bands leave things as they were because reunion studio work, as so often happens, would likely leave fans disappointed given the passage of time, musical directions and, perhaps, lost chemistry.
Ten Years After, 50,000 Miles Beneath My Brain . . . Another of my favorite bands, TYA, I have not revisited in a while. Long overdue.
Lou Reed, Busload Of Faith . . . Transformer is arguably, probably obviously, Lou Reed’s masterpiece as a solo album but I’d put 1989’s New York album up there with it. It’s brilliant, musically and, as usual with Reed, lyrically as evidenced by this rocker. I remember buying New York upon release, sight unseen and unheard, based on a review I read in a magazine or newspaper, and have been forever rewarded.
Queen, The Prophet’s Song . . . Not a fan of the monarchy – a ridiculous anachronism in my view – although I don’t begrudge those who are fond of it. But, I suppose, contrary to my nature, I should at least acknowledge Queen Elizabeth’s passing in some measure, so I will by playing this epic by Queen, from A Night At The Opera. I did think of playing the Sex Pistols’ God Save The Queen but I played the Pistols just a few weeks ago so, no. Another obvious option would have been The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead but I’m not into The Smiths. I’ve tried them, and Morrissey and I know they’re loved by many but, sorry, I don’t get it.
The Rolling Stones, I Am Waiting . . . I’ve been on an early Stones’ kick of late. Here’s another cut, from 1966’s Aftermath album, that could be a completely different band (and I suppose was) from the ‘classic’ band they became via the so-called Big Four albums – Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers and Exile on Main St. They’ve been around 60 years so it’s natural but still amazing, the variety and depth of the Stones’ music.
Eagles, Long Road Out Of Eden . . . The band was just in Toronto this past weekend, prompting me to play this title cut (which they didn’t play) from their likely final studio work, from 2007. It’s the only studio album since The Long Run in 1979 and the band’s original breakup, and it’s essentially the Don Henley band now, he being the lone original member left, but so be it. I find that, with longstanding rock bands, after a period of time members who were not original members (in the Eagles’ case, Joe Walsh and Timothy B. Schmit) eventually have been around long enough that they’re almost ‘original’, as with, say, guitarist Rickey Medlocke and singer Johnny Van Zant in Lynyrd Skynyrd. Skynyrd gets criticized (unlike, unless I’ve missed it, Eagles) for being a glorified cover band and I can appreciate that, yet since 1991 has continued to release new studio work up to 2014. In any event, as far as the Eagles go, this extended piece is a great song, lyrically and musically.
Steve Miller Band, Journey From Eden . . . From Miller’s pre-commercial hits period. I like his hits but his stuff before that, tracks like this progressive, ethereal work, is worth investigating.
The Firm, Fortune Hunter . . . Sounds like Led Zeppelin. But why wouldn’t it, given Jimmy Page was in The Firm, along with singer Paul Rodgers of Free and Bad Company fame.
Led Zeppelin, The Wanton Song . . . Speaking of Zep . . . I was reminded of this track, from Physical Graffiti, via a rock ‘album reviews’ show I was recently watching on YouTube.
Ian Hunter, Old Records Never Die . . . The So Old It’s New theme song, arguably. Great stuff from a great artist, still rocking, as of this writing, at age 83, with studio work as recently as 2016.
Moxy, Time To Move On . . . Featuring Tommy Bolin of Deep Purple, James Gang and solo fame on guitar solos in his only appearance with the Canadian hard rockers, on their Moxy 1 debut in 1975. I pulled this from my terrific Bolin box set Ultimate: The Best Of Tommy Bolin, released in 1989.
Chicago, Liberation . . . I can hear my (RIP) older brother saying, ‘this is acid rock’. He usually was referring to Jimi Hendrix but Hendrix admired Chicago guitarist Terry Kath so it fits, this terrific, lengthy, almost completely instrumental track from the debut Chicago album, when they were known as Chicago Transity Authority. Released in 1969, the song, and album, showcases all that early CTA/Chicago was – guitar, jazz, horns. Sublime.
Introduction of Matthew Albrecht and WR Nonviolence. Matt explains what nonviolence is, and how Nonviolence Day In The Park exemplifies nonviolence. Listing some of the exhibitors, musical acts, and activities.
History of Nonviolence Day In The Park, based on The Dandelion Festival. Introducing Peter Jantzi and Gary Jones, the other organizers (and Bob Jonkman too). Gary has been the driving force in organizing this years’ event.
What it takes to put on a festival. WR Nonviolence needs volunteers to help with setup, running the festival, and takedown. Contact Matt Albrecht at firstname.lastname@example.org. Talking about the Kids’ Games at Nonviolence Day In The Park, and the Meditation Labyrinth.
Matt and Bob talk about the philosophy of nonviolence: Violence is treating people as an object. Animals killing animals, boxers fighting, playing “violent” video games, watching “violent” movies are not considered violence because no-one is objectified. But the monetary system is considered violence, and WR Nonviolence has the Usury-Free Day event in November to address this.
How to contact WR Nonviolence: Join the Tuesday night meetings at 7:00pm, an online meeting. Bob summarizes the Nonviolence Day In The Park, and introduces the next song.
Bob reads Sammy Duke’s promo material, and invites him to the studio. If anyone wants to submit music send an e-mail to email@example.com to get your material in the Radio Waterloo library. Bob introduces the next song.
Chilliwack, Are You With Me . . . Not too many studio recordings I can think of, off the top of my head, anyway, that start with a drum solo. This one’s by the late guitarist/multi-instrumentalist Brian MacLeod, who sadly died age 39 of brain cancer. MacLeod, who later formed the band Headpins, played drums, in addition to guitar, on most of the 1979 Breakdown In Paradise album’s songs as Chilliwack was in a state of flux in large measure due to the demise of their record label, Mushroom Records. Mushroom also was home to Heart in that band’s early days, which gave Heart, originally from Seattle, a large part of its Canadian connection that also included Ann Wilson dating a Vietnam War draft dodger and following him to Canada, where Heart set up shop in Vancouver.
But enough about Heart. Chilliwack co-founder and stalwart Bill Henderson was, at the time of the Breakdown album, the only other full-time member. When I see the title of this song I think of concerts. Why? Because George Thorogood often yells “are ya with me?!” before launching into some song or other during his shows. It works for him, but not so much for others I’ve heard on live albums from bands I like but have not actually seen live, partly for this very reason, and I place these two in the annoying category: 1. Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden, or as a solo act, screaming “Scream for me (insert country/city; he’s even got a solo live album called Scream For Me Brazil. Hey, Bruce, make them scream via your music, if you have to ask, maybe your music’s not moving anyone). 2. Ozzy Osbourne with his “clap your effing hands…” Hey, Ozzy, see my comments on Bruce: shouldn’t your music prompt people to clap their hands on their own? Shut the eff up, speaking of the F word, and sing.
Oh, right, back to Chilliwack. I saw them, Henderson at the helm, at the Kitchener Blues Festival in 2016; excellent show and not surprising, given their extensive list of hits. And they’re still out there doing it, most recently in Kelowna, BC, in early August. Which got me thinking: if you’re a band or artist with, say, 10 songs worthy of putting on a compilation, and Chilliwack has 13 on one of theirs, you can do a good 90-minute show. Play the 10 or so tracks, extend some of them, throw in some obscurities like Are You With Me, maybe a cover or two and bingo, done. And now I’m done with Chilliwack, a band I like but would never have thought would inspire a long ramble like this. Next!
The Who, Getting In Tune . . . From Who’s Next, one of those classic albums that is wall-to-wall great, from opening cut (Baba O’Reilly and no, some folks, it’s not called Teenage Wasteland, that’s part of the lyrics to the song, memorable for sure but not the title) to Won’t Get Fooled Again, the closer on the original release, before the inevitable remasterings and repackagings pushed the album from nine to 16 tracks. Anyway, this gets us in tune for . . .
Rush, Working Man . . . The opener of my little Labour Day set, Canadian/Brit spelling with what I think is the ridiculous and unnecessary ‘u’, whether the songs truly have anything to do with working or not. Why didn’t I open the set with this today, Labour Day? Because I did last year for Labour Day and that’s . . . just what you’d be expecting.
Bruce Springsteen, Factory . . . Haunting song from Darkness On The Edge Of Town. It’s a depressing song for the most part yet somehow, I also find it uplifting. I do remember working construction, and then at a moving company, as a student and thinking, Jesus, how can these guys stand this stuff, day after day, as a career while at the same time having immense respect for people doing such sometimes hard labor and more so, in most cases the ability to work with one’s hands, a skill I lack outside of bed, just the self-sufficiency of that ability.
The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Work Song . . . Extended cover of the standard written by jazz musician Nat Adderley, showing off the guitar tandem of Mike Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop, plus Butterfield’s own harmonica playing.
R.E.M., Finest Worksong . . . Nothing really to do with Labor Day, US spelling this time for a US band, but the title works, and I like the song. It was the third single (made No. 50) from Document, the 1987 album that, via the hit single The One I Love, broke the band to a wide audience. The middle single from the album was It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine).
John Lennon, Working Class Hero . . . Classic from Lennon’s first solo album proper (not counting the Two Virgins avant garde releases), Plastic Ono Band, 1970. Said it before but I’ll bore you again – a hugely influential song and album to my young (age 11) at the time way of thinking, along with God from the same album and, a year later, I Just Want To See His Face from the Stones’ Exile on Main Street album.
AC/DC, The Razors Edge . . . Dark, menacing, arugably somewhat uncharacteristically spooky track from the boys and the title cut from the 1990 album that brought us the well-known songs Thunderstruck, Are You Ready and Moneytalks. It also displayed AC/DC’s cheeky defiance of punctuation, as the song indeed is named The Razors Edge, no apostrophe in Razors.
Flash and The Pan, Down Among The Dead Men . . . This was on my menu for last week. Didn’t make the cut in the shaving down for my two-hour show, as it didn’t fit, thematically. Then again, Flash and The Pan is so relatively and wonderfully unique, their work tends to always be square peg in round hole stuff, and brilliantly so.
Collective Soul, Blame . . . I was sorting stuff and came across an old Collective Soul/Bush compilation I burned ages ago. So, expect to hear some Bush stuff soon, perhaps, although all that I burned and know are their hits, so I may have to make one of my periodic exceptions to the deep cuts nature of So Old It’s New. Interestingly enough, I was at the gym this morning and a Bush song, Machinehead, came on the sound system.
David Wilcox, The Natural Edge . . . Love the sort of stair step arrangement of this one, the title song from Wilcox’s 1989 album.
The Marshall Tucker Band, Blue Ridge Mountain Sky . . . A jaunty paean to the mountain range, some of which is in the state of Virginia – setting up my next song – although the lyrics in this tune focus on the Carolinas.
The Rolling Stones, Sweet Virginia . . . Speaking of Virginia . . . geez, I’m full of shit clever and so maybe ought to follow the band’s advice: “Got to scrape the shit right off your shoes.” From Exile on Main St.
Leslie West, Dreams Of Milk and Honey . . . That earworm by Anthony Newley, “Gonna build a mount-ayn” also covered by Sammy Davis Jr. and turned into an earworm now via a commercial for a Canadian hardware store likely prompted me playing Leslie West/Mountain. That, and I was watching a show on YouTube that was rating Mountain’s albums, so here we go. Actually, the song is from the 1969 album Mountain, credited to West, after which he and Felix Pappalardi, who played bass and produced the record, formed the band Mountain.
The Doors, The WASP (Texas Radio and The Big Beat) . . . Love Jim Morrison’s vocals on the LA Woman album, this track being great evidence of what I mean. What a terrific song.
ZZ Top, Heaven, Hell or Houston . . . Can’t talk about Texas radio without playing that little ol’ band from Texas. A cool track, too, from 1981’s El Loco album. It’s similar, to my ears, to Manic Mechanic from the previous studio album, 1979’s Deguello. “So farewell, my darling,’ Heaven, Hell or Houston concludes, “Perhaps we’ll meet again on some sin-infested street corner in Houston, Texas.”
Dr. John, Loop Garoo . . . Typical funky gumbo from the doctor.
Alan Parsons Project, (The System Of) Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether . . . From the 1976 debut, the Edgar Allan Poe-inspired Tales of Mystery and Imagination album.
The Amboy Dukes, Dr. Slingshot . . . I struck up a chat with a random fellow in a music store a few days ago when he recognized Bald Boy in his secret identity of Karlo Berkovich. It was the type of thing where you’re flipping through albums, can’t help but comment on some good one someone beside you has pulled out, worry for a moment they’ll ignore you or take offence to your butting in, then all’s well and you spend the rest of your browsing time musing about music. Somehow or other, the conversation came around to the Amboy Dukes, where Ted Nugent first made his name. But I cannot tell a lie. Dr. Slingshot also came up because I was searching Dr. John songs in the station’s computer system, although the Amboy Dukes’ cut reminded me of the fun record store discussion. So, you see the result in the set with various ‘doctor’ tunes.
Parliament, Dr. Funkenstein . . . Appropriate title for this workout.
Chris Isaak, Blue Hotel . . . He’s best known for the sultry 1989 hit Wicked Game, which got me and likely many people into his music. But Isaak is much more than that one song.
Frank Zappa, Crew Slut . . . “The Central Scrutinizer’ introduces more Zappa zaniness, from Joe’s Garage.
April Wine, Electric Jewels . . . Propulsive title cut from the band’s 1973 album.
Traffic, Roll Right Stones . . . Extended piece from Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory. I’ve always liked the album cover, too.
54-40, Music Man . . . My kind of tune, funky, nice bass line, wah wah guitar. From 1992’s Dear Dear album, which got me into 54-40 via the hit singles She-La and Nice To Luv You. Music Man was also a single, but didn’t do as well. Hence, it’s a deep cut, for my purposes.
Santana, All Aboard/Conquistador Rides Again (live) . . . All Aboard is a fiery instrumental from IV, the 2016 album that reunited most of the surviving members of the original Santana band of the early 1970s. I merged it with Santana’s extended interpretation of jazz drummer/bandleader Chico Hamilton’s Conquistador Rides Again, from the Live at The Fillmore ’68 album that didn’t see official release until 1997.
Little Feat, Day Or Night (live) . . . From one of the great live albums, Waiting For Columbus.
Elton John, Boogie Pilgrim . . . Speaking of Little Feat, EJ does a good impersonation on this funky jam from Blue Moves, a sprawling double album I largely dismissed upon its 1976 release. And except for the massive single Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word it did signal the start of a decline in Elton John’s commercial and critical fortunes. But, it’s one of those albums that, over time and repeat listens, continues to reveal its many gems.
Moby Grape, Changes . . . Haven’t played these guys, from the 60s San Francisco scene that also bred the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane, among others, in a while. So, here you go with this up-tempo tune from their 1967 debut.
Gov’t Mule, Birth Of The Mule . . . One would think the band would have put this on their first album, the self-titled debut in 1995. But it’s on their second studio work, Dose, from 1998. Then again, a different song, Mule, is on the first album. Anyway, this one’s a tribute to Miles Davis and his Birth of The Cool album.
Budgie, Black Velvet Stallion . . . From one of my favorite bands, the arguably underappreciated yet influential Budgie. This came out in 1976 and the Eagles may have been listening, as Those Shoes (one of my favorite Eagles’ songs, from 1979’s The Long Run album) is similar.
Procol Harum, Bringing Home The Bacon . . . So much great music out there, so (relatively) little time in a weekly two-hour show so it sometimes feels like I’m on a long, circular track or winding road, with various band/artist stops along the way that I eventually get back to. Like Procol Harum. This is from 1973’s Grand Hotel album. Nice guitar work from Mick Grabham, who replaced Dave Ball, who had replaced Robin Trower.
Billy Gibbons, Desert High . . . Spooky, bluesy track from Gibbons’ third solo album, Hardware, released in 2021. He’s said ZZ Top will be releasing new studio work, although we’ve had nothing since 2012’s La Futura. Bassist Dusty Hill, who died last year and has been replaced by his bass tech Elwood Francis, did apparently leave behind recorded instrumental and vocal tracks for a new album of original material.
Headstones, Do That Thing . . . Love the stop-start pace of this one, from the 1997 album Smile and Wave. Typically fun Headstones’ lyrics: “We got Jesus, He’s drinkin’ beer, He’s playin’ cards, He’s shootin’ dice, He’s drinkin’ whiskey and He beats his wife; and it’s the same song He always sings, He’s got it all ’cause His dad’s the king . . . ”
The Rolling Stones, Complicated . . . Inspired by a recent chat with a friend about the Stones’ early stuff, during which I mentioned how much the Between The Buttons album has grown on me over the many years since its 1967 release. It’s a very inventive record, from which I pulled this song.
Supertramp, A Soapbox Opera (live) . . . Originally on 1975’s Crisis? What Crisis?, this is the live version from the Paris album, released in 1980 and recorded on the massive Breakfast In America album tour, which is when I saw the band in Toronto.
Eric Clapton, The Core . . . Slowhand is such a great album, every track a worthwhile listen, full of hits and well-known tunes like Cocaine, Lay Down Sally, Wonderful Tonight and Next Time You See Her. Yet this extended, nearly 9-minute workout, with Marcy Levy sharing lead vocals with EC, might be my favorite of them all. Depends on time, place and mood, of course.
Spooky Tooth, Weird . . . 1967 psychedelia from another band I haven’t played in a while but really like. Gary Wright on lead vocals, eventually to go solo and give us the mid-70s hits Dream Weaver and Love Is Alive. He wasn’t in the band in 1967, but future Foreigner mastermind and guitarist Mick Jones (different guy than The Clash’s Mick Jones) was in Spooky Tooth in a later incarnation, 1972-74.
Grateful Dead, Attics Of My Life . . . From American Beauty. Sounds like/could be The Byrds, to me, songs like that band’s He Was A Friend Of Mine, and the Dead was hanging out a bit with former Byrd David Crosby at the time and were admittedly influenced by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.
Vanilla Fudge, All In Your Mind . . . More psychedelia, from 1968.
Bob Dylan, What Was It You Wanted . . . From the brilliant, Daniel Lanois-produced, Oh Mercy album, 1989. Who are you, anyway? – Dylan.
Peter Frampton, I Wanna Go To The Sun (live) . . . From, what else, the 1976 ubiquitous monster, Frampton Comes Alive! Another in a long list of big and in some cases career-defining 1970s live double albums, like Little Feat’s Waiting For Columbus, which I played earlier, Bob Seger’s Live Bullet, Kiss Alive, Wings Over America . . .
Dire Straits, Where Do You Think You’re Going? . . . It’s interesting reading reviews of Dire Straits’ second album, Communique, from which this song is drawn. Many such reviews suggest it’s a pale imitation of the debut. I disagree. A remarkably consistent band over the course of their six studio albums.
The Animals, Baby Let Me Take You Home . . . The band’s first single, 1964. It made No. 21 in the UK, No. 102 in the US and didn’t chart anywhere else. Yet, it’s an influential track and makes for interesting reading in that it’s similar to the traditional folk tune Baby Let Me Follow You Down as covered by Bob Dylan on his 1962 debut album, and the Animals’ electric treatment of it was apparently an influence on Dylan going electric.
George Harrison, Bye Bye, Love . . . Another revamping, this one Harrison’s interpretation of a song made famous by The Everly Brothers, from the Dark Horse album, 1974.
John Mayall, Looking Back . . . Mayall’s version of the Johnny ‘Guitar’ Watson tune. “I was looking back to see if she was looking back to see if I was looking back at her.” So true.
J.J. Cale, Thirteen Days . . . Like Dire Straits, which he greatly influenced, Cale is to me another artist whose work is/was remarkably consistent. Every album and song sounds somewhat the same but in a reliable yet different sort of way, always compelling, never boring.
The Allman Brothers Band, End Of The Line . . . And we reach the end of the line for another week.
ImprovFest 2022 is a 24-hour digital celebration of off-the-cuff art-making that showcases new, improvisational works by hundreds of performers, hailing from 25+ countries, practicing across all disciplines: music, dance, theatre, poetry, visual arts, and more. Through a digital video livestream and simultaneous international radio broadcasts, the Festival was able to reach thousands of attendees from 55+ countries. Through collaborations with dozens of amazing arts organizations, festivals, radio stations, and other community partners around the world, IF was able to bring niche pockets of community from across the globe together, creating a provocative, ephemeral portrait of art-making during the pandemic.
On Saturday, 27 August 2022, CKMS-FM Radio Waterloo is joining ImprovFest 2022 in progress at various times throughout the day.
If you are familiar with Into the Void – then you might be prepared for From the Void. I will push the boundaries and conventions of radio every Tuesday night. While preparing for this show I realized that this isn’t going to just be a show about Experimental music, it’s going to be experimental radio. You won’t know what has been pre recorded or is happening live. You won’t know if it is original or if it’s a top 40 band. You won’t know if you are getting older or getting younger. Time doesn’t exist, sound is subjective and taste isn’t even a consideration. The best part about sounds from the void is you won’t be able to hear it…unless you are already in the void.
From The Void is Experimental Music — soundscapes and audio experiments to lose your mind to.
From The Void airs on Tuesdays from 10:00pm to 11:00pm.
The Rolling Stones, Hold On To Your Hat . . . I can’t remember what song it was, not this one, but I recall reading a review of a Rolling Stones’ album once, about a particular track, and it was described as “a typical Stones’ belter.” Anyway, Hold On To Your Hat, from the Steel Wheels album, is another of those. It’s a stripped-down Stones, Keith Richards and (yes) Mick Jagger on guitars, Charlie Watts on drums and Ron Wood on bass in place of the absent Bill Wyman, who was probably off whining about being denied song credits or something – which his for the most part bland solo albums show was the right thing to do, just have him shut up and play bass on Stones’ material. Ah, I remember the other ‘typical Stones’ belter’ now. Interesting how that happens, one thought prompting another. The other song is Sad Sad Sad, with the ‘typical Stones’ belter’ reference coming from my trusty The Rolling Stones Complete Recording Sessions book. Wyman doesn’t play on Sad Sad Sad, either. Actually, he was in Antigua at the time for a press conference to discuss his then upcoming 1989 marriage to Mandy Smith, who was age 13 at the time they met, 18 when they married and now 52, which was Wyman’s age on wedding day. They divorced after 23 months. Later, Wyman’s age 30 son married Smith’s mother, then age 46. That one lasted a couple years. On to the next tune.
Ramones, Journey To The Center Of The Mind . . . Not sure why but some critics, and even the band members themselves, savaged Acid Eaters, the band’s 1993 covers album of songs from their favorite artists of the 1960s. I like it, including this version of the Amboy Dukes’ hit.
Sex Pistols, Pretty Vacant . . . From, of course, Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols album, the shooting star band’s one and only official studio album. That’s it, that’s all, we’re done, folks. But what a legacy we left.
Dead Kennedys, Holiday In Cambodia . . . Not sure how I got into this punk phase on the show, it just happens as I let my muse move where it might take me, which can be all over the place which is the fun of it. Anyway, played this one before, probably too recently, but I like it, so here it is.
Link Wray, Jack The Ripper . . . I watched a great documentary the other day about how indigenous music mingled with black music to help fuel rock and roll. It was very enlightening, both from a musical and social point of view. It was called Rumble, after Link Wray’s most famous tune, which popularized the power chord and distortion. He had so many great tunes, Jack The Ripper being another of them.
The Monkees, You Told Me . . . So many songs, so little time each week, relatively speaking. I had this one pegged for last week’s show but in putting it together, I got up the next morning, saw I had forgotten it to include it, didn’t want to reshuffle my song order, so pushed it ahead to this week. Another good one written by Mike Nesmith, who went on to a country music career among other diverse pursuits to do with entertainment.
Joe Jackson, A Slow Song . . . A counterpoint, from a guy who started out as an angry young man punk/new wave rocker, to that sort of thing, and all aggressive music. Even JJ would acknowledge, though, that music is all about mood, and deliberate changes of direction – for instance going from Link Wray to the Monkees to a contemplative Joe Jackson.
Bloomfield/Kooper/Stills, Really . . . From the first side, or half on CD, of the Super Session album featuring Al Kooper and guitarists Mike Bloomfield and Stephen Stills. Bloomfield does the honors on this one. He checked out and went home after the first day of sessions, saying he’d been unable to sleep, which was how Stills – heeding Kooper’s desperation call – wound up on the album.
The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, Midnight Moses . . . Could be an AC/DC song, or vice-versa. Harvey beat ’em to it, though, with this riff rocker that originally was released in 1969 on Harvey’s solo album Roman Wall Blues, then was re-released in 1972 on the Sensational Alex Harvey Band’s Framed album. Nice riff, great vocals.
Ian Dury & the Blockheads, It Ain’t Cool . . . Funky tune from the final Blockheads’ album, Ten More Turnips From The Tip. It was recorded at various times over a 10-year period and finally compiled and released in 2002, two years after Dury’s death. As the story goes, Dury’s wife found a list of songs under what became the album title in her husband’s papers and gave the surviving band members her blessing to complete the album.
Peter Tosh, 400 Years . . . Written by Tosh, it first appeared on The Wailers’ Catch A Fire album in 1973. Tosh later re-recorded it and it came out as an extra track on a reissue of Tosh’s 1977 album, Equal Rights. Space doesn’t permit, but the convoluted history of the Wailers, Bob Marley and The Wailers, their record releases and how they were labelled, does make for interesting reading.
Bob Marley and The Wailers, Concrete Jungle . . . Speaking of that convoluted early Wailers’ discography . . . This one is from Catch A Fire, which was a Wailers’ album. Or a Bob Marley and The Wailers album. Different covers, too. OK, you can read all about it at your leisure. I’m moving on.
Deep Purple, Nobody’s Home . . . From the very successful 1984 reunion album of the so-called Mark II version of Purple – Ian Gillan, Roger Glover, Jon Lord, Ian Paice and Ritchie Blackmore, the first time they’d recorded together since 1973’s Who Do We Think We Are album. It sounded like they’d never been away.
Lee Harvey Osmond, Blade Of Grass . . . Tom Wilson is an amazing artist. I say that often. He’s demonstrated it with Junkhouse, on his own, as a member of Black and The Rodeo King and with his Oswald, er, Osmond project. That’s it, that’s all.
Big Brother and The Holding Company, Combination Of The Two (live at Monterey Pop Festival) . . . A version of this was on the Cheap Thrills studio album, which was dressed up with crowd noise recordings to sound like a live album. This version actually is Janis Joplin and company, live at Monterey.
Queen, Good Company . . . Written and sung by guitarist Brian May, many of whose songs are among Queen’s best. He also plays ukulele. Great Dixieland-type tune.
Bad Company, Nuthin’ On The TV . . . From 1982’s Rough Diamonds album, the last studio work featuring the original lineup of singer Paul Rodgers, guitarist Mick Ralphs, drummer Simon Kirke and bass player Boz Burrell. Another in a line of rock songs that dismiss TV, among them the ‘Thirteen channels of shit on the TV” lyric in Pink Floyd’s Nobody Home and Bruce Springsteen’s 57 Channels (And Nothin’ On), both of which I’ve played recently.
Ten Years After, Hold Me Tight . . . TYA wrote the song but it could easily be a Jerry Lee Lewis number. Well done, too.
Kansas, Bringing It Back . . . Good, tight rocker from the debut, self-titled Kansas album in 1974.
Moon Martin, Hothouse Baby . . . If you only know Moon Martin from his well-known hit Rolene, or Robert Palmer’s version of Bad Case Of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor), you’re only scratching the surface of a good, usually rocking, artist’s ouvre.
Dave Loggins, Please Come To Boston . . . This one, from 1974, came out of nowhere. Or, more accurately, from me perusing songs I’ve loaded into the station computer system over time. It was a big hit for singer/songwriter Loggins and also for Joan Baez. I hadn’t heard it in ages, was reminded of it, so I’m playing it. So Old It’s New, and all that. Oh, and Dave Loggins is the second cousin of Kenny Loggins.
Five Man Electrical Band, Absolutely Right . . . See previous thoughts re Please Come To Boston.
Stevie Ray Vaughan, The Things That I Used To Do . . . SRV’s cover of the Guitar Slim (Eddie Jones) 1954 hit. It appeared on SRV’s second album, Couldn’t Stand The Weather, 1984.
Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band, New Coat Of Paint . . . Singles choices from albums are often interesting. Seger didn’t pick this excellent cover of a Tom Waits’ tune as a single from his 1991 album The Fire Inside. I think it, along with his own Take A Chance, are the best songs on the record – better, to me, than the actual singles, The Real Love and The Fire Inside.
Alice Cooper, Unfinished Sweet . . . I’ve always loved the “I come off the gas’ return to Alice singing, off the instrumental break, in this tune from Billion Dollar Babies.
Pink Floyd, Dogs . . .Epic from one of my favorite Floyd albums, Animals. Inspired by new neighbors who just moved into the unit across the hall from me. They have dogs. How do I know? Just about every time I leave my place now, I hear barking as my movements apparently stir the dogs to action. I met them for the first time the other day as I was leaving my unit just as the dogs, two monsters, came out of their unit to take one of their humans for a walk.