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Okay, Mix Six fans, if you’re also a reader of the Pop Politico posts you’ll know that I’m not a gun advocate when it comes to home defense.  But that doesn’t mean that I can’t “cross the aisle,” light up a big Cuban cigar, throw some meat on the BBQ, and celebrate Guns! Guns! Guns!  So here we go with a mix that’ll make you want to either shoot some guns in happiness, or run for cover!  Also included are some memorable movie clips for some .44 caliber fun.

“Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down),” Nancy Sinatra

Sure you probably remember this from the Kill Bill Vol. 1, but how many versions have you heard with Terminator dialogue mashed in to the intro?  You’re welcome. (more…)

On March 8, 2008, the Rutland Times reported the breathtaking news that the world and elsewhere would soon be privy to something quite remarkable: “Rutlemania! The Tribute Concert.” Even more impressive to fans of the Prefab Four, however, was the announcement that the famed Mods & Rockers Film Festival would be handling the official 30th-anniversary celebration of the Rutles on March 17, with Dirk (Eric Idle), Nasty (Neil Innes), Ricky Fataar (Stig), and John Halsey (Barry) all in attendance for a screening of the original 1978 version of The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash, the 1975 British TV skit that inspired the film, Rutles-related footage from Saturday Night Live, and highlights from the 2003 film The Rutles 2: Can’t Buy Me Lunch.

Damn. I really wish I could’ve been there for that.

Fortunately, David Haber from WhatGoesOn.com was there, and provided two separate reports over at his website, one a general summary and the other focusing specifically on the Rutles’ first full reunion performance ever. Better you should go there yourself rather than allow me to cannibalize all the good stuff here, but let’s just say that any event that can draw an audience that includes Andy Summers, Jeff Lynne, Aimee Mann, Michael Penn, Stephen Bishop, Howard Kaylan of the Turtles, producer extraordinaire Peter Asher (who was also half of Peter & Gordon), Emo Phillips, Marcia Strassman, and Dan Castellaneta was clearly the place to be that night.

If you’re a Beatles fan who’s never heard the genius parody that is the Rutles, you’re really missing out. It’s a fair assessment to suggest that 90 percent of all power pop is unabashedly derivative of the works of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, and plenty of comedians have taken the world’s most famous Liverpudlians and had a laugh at their expense, but few have done such an exquisite job of it and gotten the blessing of the members themselves to boot — well, three-quarters of them, anyway. George actually made a cameo in the original film; as for the others (if we can trust Wikipedia’s word on the matter), Ringo liked the happier scenes but felt the ones that mimicked the sadder times in the band’s career hit too close to home, while John loved the film so much that he refused to return the videotape and soundtrack he was given for his approval, warning Neil Innes that “Get Up and Go” was too close to “Get Back” and to be careful so as not to be sued by Paul. This might explain why Macca always said “no comment” when asked of the film at the time of its release, as well as Innes’s remark that Sir Paul “had a dinner at some awards thing at the same table as Eric one night, and Eric said it was a little frosty.”

Well, fair enough, you can kind of understand that. It’s fine and well for us to have a laugh at it all, but then, we didn’t live it. George was around for much of the planning of the original film, but according to producer Gary Weis, even the Quiet One got a bit testy at one point, snapping, “We were the Beatles, you know!” Moments later, however, he shook his head and said, “Aw, never mind.”

(more…)

My grandfather loved his guitars. He listened to old Hank Williams Sr. records, a bit of Les Paul and Mary Ford, and a smattering of Hawaiian music, all to hear what was happening on the fretboards. Williams stuck to strummed chords, Paul overdubbed, sped up and slowed down his jazz licks to possessed proportions and the Hawaiians always knew their way around the pedal steel. As far afield as these tastes ran, there was a definite common denominator, so the fact that Pop loved “Oh Babe, What Would You Say?” by Hurricane Smith was even more confusing.

For starters, this hit single sounds nothing like the rest of Smith’s output, the sort of music you would expect from the early 1970s. It is a throwback to Big Band Hit Parade panache, with a swinging string section worthy of Nelson Riddle and an up-front sax that complements, not kills, the tune. Secondly, Smith’s voice is treated with an echo-back bounce more in line with David Bowie and John Lennon than Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong. None of this seemed to make sense in Pop’s collection. What gives? (more…)

Grammy week is upon us, and I couldn’t be less excited. I used to live for the Grammys during the early part of the year, just like I lived for the Oscars and the Golden Globes — even though the Grammys are traditionally even more artistically bankrupt than the Globes. Most likely anybody who stumbles across Popdose can name at least a dozen past Grammy travesties right off the top of your head, so I won’t go into them here. (OK, but just a few, and all from the glory years of 1988-89: Jethro Tull getting Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance; DJ Jazzy Jeff & Fresh Prince beating Public Enemy for the first Best Rap Performance trophy, and off camera at that; Milli Vanilli, of course.) But this year is special: It’s the first in memory that I couldn’t give a damn who wins any of the major categories, or indeed any award that’s likely to be handed out during the televised ceremony.

Sure, plenty of artists I like are nominated, but unless you’re rooting like mad for either an Amy Winehouse recovery speech or an Amy Winehouse train wreck — or, perhaps, both over the course of the evening — is there much of anything to root for at all? Are we supposed to hope the Foo Fighters win all the awards that the Chili Peppers didn’t win last year? Are we supposed to cheer for “Umbrella,” a terrific song that nonetheless doesn’t really seem like Song/Record of the Year material? Or are we supposed to hope Kanye West wins Album of the Year so he doesn’t once again pitch a fit over being shunned in the top categories? Zzzzzzzzzz…

And what’s up with that Album of the Year category, anyway? Herbie Hancock’s Joni Mitchell tribute? Really? And, yeah, Vince Gill made a virtuoso five-album set that showed off his multifaceted talents, but what impact did it have? Where’s Radiohead, or Arcade Fire, or the White Stripes? Where’s the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss album? Where’s Springsteen, for God’s sake? (He’s never won this category.) Where’s Daughtry? (more…)

Tim Smith (ex-Jellyfish, current member of Sheryl Crow’s band)

1. The Beatles, Rubber Soul

My favorite period for the band, as they were firing on all cylinders. Pre-self-indulgent, post-early-sugar-pop.

“If I Needed Someone”

2. XTC, Black Sea

Their last record as a true “band.” Full of experiments, sonically and musically. They are one of my all-time faves. “Respectable Street” has one of the most amazing guitar riffs.

“Respectable Street” (more…)

Welcome to a series I began at He’s A Whore and am proud-as-punch to continue here at Popdose. While not able to mention everything that happened, I’ve touched upon some of the key events that made 1996 what it was, warts ‘n’ all.


Kiss announce plans to reunite with original members Ace Frehley and Peter Criss as part of a “farewell” world tour.

In March, Phil Collins announces his decision to leave Genesis.

That same month, the Sex Pistols announce plans for a reunion tour marking the 20th anniversary of the band’s formation. (more…)

With Popdose having just rolled off the showroom floor all shiny and new, still full of that “new car smell,” I am chuffed to the ‘nads to be a part of such a venture. Never before has such an intimidating conglomeration of blog talent been gathered to unleash their musical musings upon the world. Truth be told, you, faithful Popdose readers, are some lucky sumbitches.

Seriously, think of Popdose as a real-life Justice League — except, instead of skin-tight spandex, snazzy masks, and flowing capes, the superheroes of the Popdose variety are adorned in ripped sweats, t-shirts with all manner of long-defunct band, record company, or dot.com logos, and mandatory bathrobes with loads of rear ventilation. Don’t let appearances fool you, though. We’re bad-ass. For example, I’ve been known to tag a misbehaving neighbor kid from thirty paces with a well-aimed slipper without spilling a drop of morning java.

Being that the odometer has rolled clean past 999999 on yet another year and we prepare to write “2008” on all checks from this point onward, I’m betting that some of you are filled with a sense of hope that this year will somehow be better than ol’ ’07.

How the fuck could it not be?

To put it simply, 2007 was to music what Pamela Anderson-Lee-Rock-Salomon is to the institution of marriage.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a new year without the barrage of year-end Best Of lists being proffered by every nitwit who has ever fancied themselves a rock critic. So many critics, yet every list seem comprised of the same ten albums. Arcade Fire, Spoon, Feist, Amy Winehouse, Of Montreal, yada yada yada.

How can that be? Were only ten albums released in ’07?

That adult life is no different from high school is never more obvious than when you see critics the world over name-check the same small reservoir of bands and albums, unafraid to admit that they never really got around to listening to the new Sigur Ros CD, but feel compelled to place it high upon their lists nonetheless.

Round up these same scribes and relocate them to the nearest deserted isle with only their year-end Top 10 selections and a solar-powered iPod to keep them company, you can bet your sweet music-loving ass that each one of them would be throwing themselves from the highest cliff or chiseling away at their own ears with a monkey skull and crayfish claw within the hour.

See, that’s what happens when you listen to an Arcade Fire CD minus the roomful of irony-drenched hipsters and kitschy ambience of a slumming socialite’s Lower East End loft.

Airdrop a few copies of my “Antidote For Those Forced To Listen To Their Own Year-End Top 10 List Selections” (see below), and watch just how quickly the last remaining survivors remove their necks from the noose and embrace the care packages with tears pouring from their bloodshot eyes.

If only they hadn’t lopped off their ears and tossed the bloody lumps into the sea that first day.

My irony-free wish for 2008 is that great music is made, embraced, and praised to the ends of the earth by those in a position to bring about change from the sickening sameness that has tainted the well these past umpteen years.

Various Artists/Antidote For Those Forced To Listen To Their Own Year-End Top 10 List Selections (Hey, You Kids! Records)

Beatles - Revolution (acoustic)
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers - Mary Jane’s Last Dance
Cheap Trick - On Top Of The World
Slow Runner - Usual Chords
Heavens - Dead End Girl
Romantics - What I Like About You
Tourists - Week Days
Guster - One Man Wrecking Machine
Replacements - Talent Show
R.E.M. - At My Most Beautiful