Join us for a trip back in time — when Art Garfunkel shunned his first name, Cher sang on a horse, and Billy Preston’s afro threatened to take over the world. It’s a 1973 edition of Jason Hare’s CHART ATTACK!
CommentsWe did it! More specifically and much less modestly, I did it — I won Tuesday’s election!
My victory even got some coverage from Associated Press national political writer Liz Sidoti, who wrote, “A slew of cities selected mayors …”
A win-win all around!
John Cale – The Streets of Laredo from Honi Soit … (1981, out of print)
Emerson, Lake & Palmer – Hoedown from Trilogy (1972)
Robbie Robertson with Leah Hicks-Manning – The Sound Is Fading from Contact From the Underworld of Redboy (1998)
Adam & the Ants – Five Guns West from Prince Charming (1981)
Babe Ruth – The Mexican from First Base (1972)
Wall of Voodoo – Morricone Themes from The Index Masters (2005)
Nick Cave and Warren Ellis – Rider Song from The Proposition [soundtrack] (2005)
Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas – Horseback from Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas (2005)
Michael Viner’s Incredible Bongo Band – Apache from Bongo Rock (1972)
Deborah Harry – Ghost Riders in the Sky from Three Businessmen [soundtrack] (1999, out of print)
Daniel Lanois – Indian Red from For the Beauty of Wynona (1993)
Sparks – This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us from Kimono My House (1974)
You Am I – Gunslingers from Convicts (2006)
Medicine Dream – P’jilasi (World) from Mawio’mi (2000)
Grant Lee Buffalo – Lone Star Song from Mighty Joe Moon (1994)
Roxy Music – Prairie Rose from Country Life (1974)
Chris Whitley – Medicine Wheel from Soft Dangerous Shores (2005)
Hoodoo Gurus – Spaghetti Western from Magnum Cum Louder (1993)
Big and Rich – Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) from Horse of a Different Color (2004)
Ulali – Mahk Jchi (Heartbeat Drum Song) from Music for The Native Americans [soundtrack] (1994)
The Tornados – Ridin’ the Wind from Joe Meek: The Alchemist of Pop (1963)
Penelope Houston – Buffalo Ballet from The Pale Green Girl (2004)
Folks, I’ll be the first to tell you that our last CHART ATTACK! was just a little depressing. Marky Mark? Ugh! Color Me Badd? Ugggggh! Bryan Adams? Uggggggghhhh! Good news, though: I’m pleased to report that this week’s Top 10 is much, much better — sure, there are some mild clunkers, but the majority of these songs are absolutely fantastic. See if you agree as we attack November 3, 1973!
10. All I Know — Garfunkel 
9. Space Race — Billy Preston
8. Let’s Get It On — Marvin Gaye
7. Ramblin’ Man — The Allman Brothers Band
6. Heartbeat – It’s a Lovebeat — The DeFranco Family Featuring Tony DeFranco
5. Paper Roses — Marie Osmond
4. Half-Breed — Cher
3. Keep On Truckin’ (Part 1) — Eddie Kendricks
2. Angie — The Rolling Stones
1. Midnight Train to Georgia — Gladys Knight & the Pips
10. All I Know — Garfunkel (download)
Following the breakup of Simon & Garfunkel in 1970, Art Garfunkel removed his focus from the music business; for three years, he focused on his acting career, appearing in Mike Nichols movies such as Catch-22 and Carnal Knowledge, taught mathematics at a private school in Connecticut, and studied classical music in Europe. Finally, in 1973, he assembled a group of songwriters (what, you thought he was going to write songs himself?) and recorded songs for a new album, entitled Angel Clare. The first single, “All I Know,” was written by Jimmy Webb (the first of many Garfunkel/Webb collaborations) and was his first solo entry on the Top 10 — and by “first,” I mean “only,” though he did have three #1 hits on the Adult Contemporary charts. The song is exactly what you’d expect: musically, it’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” minus the bridge or troubled water, and lyrically, it’s deep into Mellow Gold territory. Art’s voice sounds a touch creepy here on the original, especially any time he gets near a low note. Still, it’s quite pretty, and you really can’t go wrong with songs like these, especially ones that feature Webb’s beautiful piano. The only thing I don’t understand is why, for his first few albums, Art was only billed as “Garfunkel.” Was he concerned that if he added the “Art,” people wouldn’t know who he was? How many Garfunkels are out there, really? If he wanted to capitalize on familiarity, perhaps he should have billed himself as “& Garfunkel.”
I found a nice video of Art Garfunkel performing “All I Know” on Saturday Night Live, but it’s on a Chinese website and I can’t figure out how to embed it. Still, it’s worth a watch; the song is much more effective in this stripped-down incarnation.
9. Space Race — Billy Preston
I personally had never heard “Space Race” before this week, but if you watched American Bandstand regularly, chances are you’ll recognize it as the music played during the mid-show commercial break, from 1974 until the show’s end. It worked great for that purpose, too — a sequel of sorts to 1972’s “Outa-Space,” “Space Race” is a thick slab of instrumental funk with a fantastic groove. But here’s the thing: on American Bandstand, you never got to hear more than a few seconds of the song. At around a minute and a half, it becomes pretty clear that a better title would have been “Holy Crap You Guys, I Just Got a New Keyboard and Look at All the Cool Sounds I Can Make, Wah Wah Wah Wah!” I can’t help but wonder if this song is what inspired Daryl Dragon to buy a Casio, and that just breaks my heart. Still, I can’t give Billy Preston too much grief. Apart from having the world’s greatest afro, the man was an unbelievable talent. And who doesn’t love the hell out of “Nothing From Nothing”?
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Just when you start to think that Rhino is the only company that knows how to do the box set thing, along comes ABKCO Records with their entry in the definitive statement sweepstakes. In this case the statement in question is in regard to the classic live Rolling Stones album Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out from 1969.
Exactly how do you build a big fancy box set out of a single disc live album from 40 years ago? Well you start by remastering the original tracks. Then you dig up five previously unreleased tracks from the Madison Square Garden shows that didn’t make the original cut, and make them your second audio disc. The sets by the show’s stellar opening acts, B.B. King, and Ike and Tina Turner, have never been released before, so you make those Disc Three.
You’ll need a DVD, so grab that footage from the Maysles brothers (who also made the tour documentary Gimme Shelter), which includes full-length versions of the five newly released Stones tracks, and some behind the scenes stuff. The songs are great, but the opportunity to see Mr. Watts interact with the donkey with whom he’d eventually share the album’s cover is priceless, and the footage of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin backstage at the Garden is touching. Less than a year later they would both be gone. Watching the Stones and the Dead in a parking lot in San Francisco waiting for the helicopters that would take them to Altamont is simply chilling. Finally, you’ll need a book, and ABKCO have filled their 56-pager with an essay from tour photographer Ethan Russell, and the original Rolling Stone album review by the great Lester Bangs. In between all the words, publish some interesting photos, including one of the album’s original cover. (more…)
It’s hard to dig up many details about Indian Wars. Hailing from Vancouver, these young garage punks are pretty much just getting started. As far as I know, they only have four recorded songs to their name, though a 7-inch is supposed to be coming out this month or next. Two of the songs are available below; the other two can be found on Indian Wars’ MySpace page. In addition to the four tunes, in the course of my, er, research, I also came across an interview with the band on a blog I’ve never heard of, and a couple of pictures.
With a sound and lo-fi style reminiscent of the Black Lips or the King Khan & BBQ Show, whom regular readers know I also love, this quartet of Canadians bashes out a sloppy, upbeat garage groove that’s as fun as it is fuzzy. They claim influences as diverse as the Band, George Jones and the Dead Ghosts (another Vancouver garage punk band I’ll now need to check out). But, admittedly, their music sounds about as far away from Big Pink or Nashville as you can get. They’re also enamored of such ’60s garage rock stalwarts as the Seeds and the 13th Flood Elevators, obvious influences whose vibe you can actually hear as these skate punks bash and crash their way to a glorious noise.
They used to be called Strange Hands (hence the MySpace URL), but a “rad French band” already had claims to the moniker. So they changed their name to Indian Wars. Why Indian Wars? “Because Indians are badass.” Love it.
Indian Wars hasn’t been around long, they might not last past the time it takes to listen to their entire recorded output, and they may turn into an alt-country band before the new year, but for now, I’ll take what I can get.
In the midst of all my mid-life reflection last week, I received an email from a guy I hadn’t heard from in 
twenty years. John* had tracked me down through the massive power of the Internet, so of course, I immediately directed him to the Basement Songs (we writers are kind of narcissistic that way). After a friendly exchange of e-mails that detailed an overview of our lives, John checked out a couple of my columns and wrote me a follow up e-mail. He told me to disregard the previous e-mail as bullshit. He then wrote one of the most confessional letters that has ever shown up in my Gmail inbox. I’m not going to go into details because his life isn’t an open book like mine (again, narcissism), but I will say that John had a rough time in the ’90s. Happily, through the love of a good woman who never gave up on him, he’s dug himself out and now leads a happier life.
I understood what he was talking about. I went through a period of months a couple years ago in which I suffered through a paralyzing depression. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and each day it got harder and harder to get up and face life. I, too, am lucky that I had a good woman and good friends to help me through the times and to right the course of my life. Have you ever experienced that? Have you ever tripped into the dark sides of your psyche and dragged your loved ones with you? If you haven’t been through that hell, then you, my friend, are fortunate. (more…)
It’s been a while since I’ve opened the great grimoire of doom and inscribed a new entry. I’ve been busier than a kobold berserker with St. Vitus dance. Since we last met (over brimming tankards of dark ale), a lot of new music has been released, and I’ve written up some reviews and recommendations to serve you well on your journey… (more…)
I am certain that when Frank Sinatra was a child, he must have gazed at the Manhattan skyline just across the Hudson River. If you’ve ever been to Hoboken, you know that the big city appears to be so close that you can almost reach out and touch the buildings. It’s a place where a young man can dream big dreams. When Sinatra was old enough, he made his escape. For him, and for countless others, “The Apple,” as he called it, became the center of the world.
The esteemed reissue masters at Rhino have chosen to commemorate this love affair between a singer and a city with a new five-disc package called, appropriately, Sinatra: New York. Four of the discs are audio CDs featuring Sinatra concerts from a variety of New York City venues. The earliest performance, on Disc One, was recorded at Manhattan Center in 1955 at an event celebrating the 20th anniversary of the Tommy Dorsey band, a group which Sinatra had famously been part of in the 1940s. Sinatra does three songs with Dorsey and the band for the occasion. The remainder of the disc was recorded at the United Nations in September, 1963. It was U.N. Staff Day, and Sinatra performed accompanied only by pianist Skitch Henderson. Among the songs that day were “I Have Dreamed,” and “My Heart Stood Still,” from the Concert Sinatra album which had been released earlier that year.
Frank Sinatra was only 55 years old when he called it quits in 1971. Somewhat predictably, he returned two years later with Ol’ Blue Eyes Is Back, and a year after that he went on tour to benefit Variety Clubs International, a children’s charity. One of the stops on that tour was at Carnegie Hall on April 8, 1974. There, Sinatra not only sang classics like “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and “Come Fly With Me,” but dug into his then-new album for splendid versions of “There Used To Be A Ballpark” and “You Will Be My Music.” I was reminded again of Sinatra’s wonderful practice of naming the songwriters of each song that he sang. It was an endearing gesture of respect from the singer to the artists who provided his material. (more…)
If Kip Winger hadn’t been around to make music in the ’80s, someone would have had to invent him.
Prettier than Lita Ford, with teeth whiter than Utah, the most perfect hard rock name not ending in “Dokken,” and a gift for the kind of leering lasciviousness that sounds about as dangerous as milk (and sounds great on the radio besides), Winger entered the charts in 1988 like Wilt Chamberlain joining the NBA in 1959 — in other words, with so many unfair natural advantages that they should have created an entirely new league. Seriously, “Seventeen”? Winger was like a meticulously stubbled, hair metal version of Chuck Berry, reducing rock & roll to its key thematic components (specifically, young girls and the gross older dudes who love them) while still allowing room for a little flash. His music bore the strong scent of Velveeta, but people have been buying that shit since 1918. Other bands might have made double entendres more successfully (see: “Cherry Pie”), but none of them had the same combination of pop-grounded metal and cheerleader good looks (see: any picture of Jani Lane). If he had played his cards right, Winger could have been one of the all-time legends.
But noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. (more…)
I know that I had promised another set of cover tunes, but it can wait. The overall set isn’t really that great, anyway. Rare, yes, but not great.
God doesn’t get a whole lot of face time here on Popdose – and truth be told, I’m as guilty of that as everyone else – and technically, this song is no exception. The artist who wrote it, though, Derek Webb, is somewhat of a giant within the Christian pop community. Or, at least that is my perception of him, since I don’t really have an insider’s perspective of the scene. I can see where he might be viewed as a (*adopts Tina Fey twang*) maverick for making pop records that focus on social injustice and loving thy brother rather than the tried and true method of treacly arrangements, melba toast instrumentation, and a heaping dose of “Jesus.” Webb’s 2007 album, The Ringing Bell, is a pop gem in the vein of Matthew Sweet and Neil Finn, and his 2008 EP with wife Sandra McCracken has the best song Sheryl Crow never wrote (”When the Summer’s Gone”). Dude’s got skills.
He also has balls the size of watermelons, because for his latest album, Stockholm Syndrome, Webb has raised his protest flag even higher, delivering some scorching anti-war rants. But the really strange thing about Stockholm is the sound; Webb has shelved his classic guitar pop in favor of something more, um, contemporary. Oh, let’s stop beating about the bush – it sounds like a Beck record. Cut & paste, drum machines…it’s as far removed from The Ringing Bell as possible. And in truth, it’s an effort that’s easier to like in spirit than in execution. As my best friend Tim rightfully observed, Stockholm Syndrome is one of those albums that actually sinks in better when it’s not listened to from start to finish.
And it was that way that I found a song that Webb should send to Justin Timberlake, stat. (more…)
