Jan 222012
 

In a recent Dugout Chatter, Mr. Moderator mentioned the passing of two great names in music history: Johnny Otis and Etta James. I’d like to mention the recent death of another notable if minor artist. Born in Texas in 1940, Dobie Gray started out in the 1960s as a soul singer. His most notable early hit was his 1965 cover of “The ‘In’ Crowd” (written by Billy Gray), a manifesto of pre-hippie coolness that reached #13 in the Billboard Hot 100. His smooth singing was beautifully complemented by the counterpoint of the backing vocals and a big-sounding, punchy horn section.

Gray continued to record as the 1960s wore on without major success. He also became a stage actor, most notably in the Los Angeles stage production of Hair. However, lightning struck again for Gray in 1973 with his recording of Mentor William‘s “Drift Away.” With a gentle groove and a gospel-influenced chorus, the  song became a big hit in the late spring and reached #5 in the Billboard charts. This is probably his single most-popular song and it still gets wide airplay. It’s not hard to understand why.

Though Dobie never scored another major hit again, he kept on performing and recording and his singles occasionally reached the Billboard charts. After “Drift Away,” he transitioned into becoming a country singer—an unusual move for an African-American artist at the time. Gray also became a notable songwriter, providing material for country and mainstream artists. He toured overseas as a performer with some success and became (at his own insistence) one of the first performers to appear before an integrated audience in apartheid-era South Africa. Gray kept on working over the next few decades. He died of cancer on December 6, 2011, at the age of 71.

So there you have it. Dobie Gray might not be the most famous or most-remembered name in rock history, but he had two genuinely terrific classic hits in him. For that, he deserves a tribute here on Rock Town Hall. Rest in peace, Dobie, and we’ll do our part to make sure you’re not forgotten.

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Jan 052012
 

Blood, Sweat & Tears (post-Al Kooper in particular) is not the most beloved group around Rock Town Hall – for good reason, too. They represent the bad side of the so-called “jazz-rock” trend of the early 1970s. Not only did BS&T render up laughably horrific versions of classic songs (“Symphony/Sympathy for the Devil,” which I proudly inflicted upon the hall in a previous post), but they also served up some of the most annoying radio fodder ever (“Spinning Wheel”, “Go Down Gamblin'”). While lacking in any real rock credentials (unlike early Chicago) or true musical vision (unlike near-progsters like Soft Machine), they offered up fourth-rate bland Kentonisms backing up immortally-bad vocalist David Clayton-Thomas, who always sounded like he was vomiting when he pushed himself. No jazz-rock could be more unlistenable than BS&T, right? Dear children, prepare yourselves for a plunge into the abyss….

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Dec 222011
 

I felt a pang of sadness on hearing of the death of Ross MacManus, who left us on either the 24th or 25th November (depending on which obituary you’re looking at). He started out as a jazz trumpeter, sang with the Joe Loss Orchestra in the 1950s and ’60s, was father to Declan, and became something of an institution in the UK thanks to an advertisement for R Whites Lemonade, which ran on British telly for 11 years.

The ad features Ross on vocals and acting, while Declan sings backing vocals, three years before he re-named himself Elvis (along with the surname of one of Ross’ pseudonyms – Day Costello). He repaid the favour by playing trumpet on “Out of Our Idiot” and “Mighty Like a Rose,” while an LP he made in 1972, Elvis Presley’s Golden Hits Sung By Big Ross and the Memphis Sound, was re-released in 2008 under the title of Elvis’s Dad Sings Elvis.

And so, by way of tribute, here is his greatest hit.

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Dec 022011
 

A few months back I was trawling the net for something to take the edge off the pointy bits of life and stumbled, after nearly a quarter-century of looking, upon someone’s vinyl rip of Frank Sidebottom Salutes The Magic of Freddie Mercury and Queen and Also Kylie Minogue (You Know, Her off Neighbours). I tried to make the family listen to it while we were driving around Wales in the summer, the kids loved it, but Mrs H had views. This song was re-released as a single last Christmas, and reached number 66 in the UK charts. I am fairly confident that it will divide opinion in the Hall, indeed I would be keen to learn whether anyone present will join me in its defence.

Frank Sidebottom was the alter-ego of Chris Sievey, who started his musical career in The Freshies, and moved on to find precious little fame and even less fortune while trying to change the world by wearing an enormous papier mache head and singing his own compositions and idiosyncratic cover versions to the accompaniment of a rinky-tink Casio keyboard in a northern nasal whine.

His persona was that of a rather insular and naive teenager, trying to play music and record in his bedroom or shed while trying not to attract the attention of his Mum, with interruptions and occasional assistance from his ventriloquist puppet Little Frank, comprising a smaller papier mache head and a body cut out of a cardboard box, with neither of them able to move their mouths. Life mainly revolved around his home village of Timperley, and was either “fantastic” or “bobbins” (bobbins of cotton = rotten).

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Nov 282011
 

There are certain songs, like ’em or loathe ’em, that have the ability to transport you back to the time when they were popular.  For me, even though, as Elton John says, “I was just a kid,” and a kid who felt obliged to hate disco reflexively, one of those songs is the timeless “More More More” by Andrea True Connection. Thus, when I read last week that she had died, I felt a real pang of sadness. Like most everyone else at this point, I think, I knew the basics of her story–porn actress turned disco diva turned one-hit wonder–but reading about her life and her aspirations was more poignant than I would have expected. Anyway, there you have it.

I also want to know if anyone else (or everyone else) associates this song with the similarly memorable “Fly Robin Fly” by Silver Connection. My assumption is that they must have been hits simultaneously, but I haven’t checked on that.

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Nov 282011
 

You may recall an earlier discussion of the fascinating Ken Russell film Tommy. The controversial director has died at 84. While I find most of his films head-scratchingly badly amusing, his exaggerated, well-lit, creepily sexually charged film bios of music figures probably was highly influential on 1980s music video directors. As we reflect on his well-documented and discussed work on The Who’s rock opera Tommy and review some of his other likely influential works, let’s keep in mind some of the “drop-the-cat” video moments in the heyday of rock music videos that may not have been possible without Russell’s unique vision. And let’s keep in mind this quote from the director, which speaks for the spirit driving even his most laughable efforts—not to mention our own:

“I believe in what I’m doing wholeheartedly, passionately, and what’s more, I simply go about my business,” he wrote. “I suppose such a thing can be annoying to some people.”

I’ve never seen Lisztomania, but I wish I could say I had. I don’t know if I’d have the patience for it today, but I really should have jumped on the opportunity to watch Roger Daltrey acting in another movie. The following scene is just a taste of what I’ve been missing all these years:

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