Townsman, please explain to me why, based on the random samplings I’ve heard of Judas Priest’s music since their late-70s prime, they have always struck me as the best of the second-generation, barely blues-based Heavy Metal bands. Last night I was watching a VH-1 documentary on the making of their breakthrough album, British Steel, I think it’s called. I remembered a lot of those songs, and the album tracks had their merits too, even while I sniggered through the more Spinal Tap elements. This morning, while eating breakfast and catching some pre-work tube, VH-1 broadcast some cheesy response to Billy Idol called “Turbo Lover”. Even that song was better than the second-generation heavy metal (and Hair Metal) competition. You know more about this band than I do. Please explain what I’m feeling. Thanks.
Greetings, fellow seekers of the rare, the unusual and the dirt-cheap!
Today, I offer another small collection of themed music, acquired during my recent travels through the milk crates and dusty old boxes of our nation’s thrift stores and flea markets. This edition focuses on a kind of rock and roll that I posit has completely vanished from our rockular landscape: the novelty tune. To be specific, I don’t mean things like “The Monster Mash.” I mean the weird novelty sub-genre that featured groups of semi-talented teenagers bashing away on a groovy riff for a few bars, then suddenly stopping to utter some kind of mysterious word or two. Where have all these kinds of songs gone?
The Revels — Thorogood’s got nothin’ on these boys when it comes to the novelty drinkin’ song!
When Mockcarr and I were in college, I had a Pebbles comp that featured a strange little song of this ilk, entitled “Roo-Buh-Doo-Buh-Doo,” which we enjoyed laughing at and “singing” whenever the mood struck. Well, fast-forward (cough) years later, and I still find this kind of silliness quite amusing — which is why I was happily surprised by a single I scored at the local flea market by a band called the Revels. I slapped the A-side down and was pleased to discover the following tune, “Vesuvius”.
Then, I flipped the beast over and was *thrilled* to find this next song, “Church Key”. I don’t mind telling you I actually bust out laughing.
Celery Stalks! Corn! Artichoke hearts! The Kingsmen!
Today, for the first time in a few weeks, I hit the Goodwill near my pad, and found another amusing number, by The Kingsmen of “Louie, Louie” fame, entitled “The Jolly Green Giant”. What I want you to pay particularly close attention to are the backup vocals — the next best/weirdest thing to a Captain Beefheart record!
You’ll just have to imagine what the B-side looks like
Okay, I know I’ve been slow to deliver on the oft-promised Thrifty Music material. This has happened for a numer of reasons: I’ve actually been busy; the amount of high-quality stuff I’ve found has been somewhat overwhelming, making the compilation process difficult, and — most significantly — putting together those giant, themed omnibus editions of Thrifty Music is just plain hard work!
Consequently, I have decided to make things easier on yours truly by re-sizing the Thrifty Music concept a bit. Henceforth, you can expect to see more frequent, smaller selections of stuff to listen to and ponder. Each will still have a theme, and some associated, probing line of questioning, which ought to get us all thinking. But the days of eight- or nine-track comps are gone!
To start the process off, I want to offer the B-side to a single that my vinyl guru, E. Pluribus Gergley, tells me is worth $300 or so (It cost me a buck!). I know nothing at all about the artist in question (one Carl Spencer), but what stopped me in my tracks upon listening to this great tune, “Progress”, was just how much Carl sounded like our very own andyr — better known in some circles as The Velvet Foghorn, or simply “Velv.” I also think the song would be *perfect* cover material for Velv’s band, the redoubtable Nixon’s Head.
This got me thinking about songs we really wish would be covered — by specific artists, I mean. For example, I’d love to hear Supagroup covering “Wang Dang, Sweet Poontang” — though that’s just the first one that popped into my head. I’m sure buried in my cranium somewhere is a longing for a better specific cover that I’m just not remembering right now. But perhaps you can do better. And Velv/Mod/Chickenfrank/Sethro — is “Progress” a song you’d consider covering? I mean, does it pass your sniff test — and if not, why not?
Other than an early, head-scratching introduction to the band through periodic spins of my Dad’s copy of “Lark’s Tongues In Aspic” (not bad for a guy born in 1930!), my experience with King Crimson is limited, and I am wary. A recent flyer at a used copy of “Beat” didn’t do much to make me like the band more — but I did spin 30 seconds of the title track from “In the Court Of the Crimson King” on iTunes and liked it well enough. Oh, and lest ye think I’m a knee-jerk prog hata, I can also put a check-mark next to the “saw Robert Fripp deliver lecture on Frippertronics at Georgetown University and liked it okay” box.
What I really want to know is: are King Crimson really Great, and — well, if so, why?
I summon you to log onto Rock Town Hall and come air your beefs about The Ronettes’ induction to the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame with a potentially sympathetic audience. I’m sure Mr. Mod supports this invitation.
“My first objection to The Ronettes is that they did not record! Of all the recordings they made, only the lead singer appeared. The group behind her, as you no doubt know, consisted of any number of hundreds of singers I used for that purpose.
“Secondly, I do not think they made the contribution required of some to be in the HALL OF FAME, nor do they have the body of work that would qualify them for induction.”
Way to go, Phil! Create the Frankenstein of Girl Groups and then try to tear it down when your creation gets the credit. He’s probably right in his criticisms of their selection, you know. God bless the little bastard!
