Clash fanatics already know the backstory about how Joe Strummer fronted a so-called (and fairly successful) Pub Rock band called the 101ers when he saw the Sex Pistols and decided to quit his hard-working roots-rockin’ boyos in favor of something cut more to the cloth of the times.
The story goes that The 101ers were supported by the Sex Pistols at a club called the Nashville Room in early 1976, and this is when Strummer claimed he saw the light and got involved in the punk scene. Commenting on this event in the Don Letts documentary Westway to the World, Strummer says, “five seconds into their [the Pistols'] first song, I knew we were like yesterday’s paper, we were over.”
By the time their debut single was released, Strummer was in the Clash and the 101ers were done. (more…)
I’m a sheep at the card table, just waiting to be fleeced. I’ve got no poker face, for starters — everything comes out in the eyebrows, and in the smirk I simply cannot erase. Add in a general fogginess on the actual rules of most card games, and you can see how I’d spend a rainy afternoon getting fearsomely bluffed by a five-year old in multiple hands of I Doubt It.
But as a writer, I’m in love with the language, with the music of the games, with double down and shoot the moon, with five-card charleys and busted flushes and inside straights, with one-eyed jacks and suicide kings. There’s romance in that language, and it has run like an underground river through folk and popular song for centuries before Lady GaGa was born.
About a month ago, while I was working on my Soundtrack Saturday post about Shag: The Movie, I tweeted that I never got sick of hearing Lloyd Price’s version of the blues folk song “Stagger Lee,” which is what Annabeth Gish and Scott Coffey’s characters dance to during the shag dancing contest at the end of the movie. In fact, I think I listened to it about 20 times just in the few hours it took me to write that post. The first time I’d ever heard any version of “Stagger Lee” was while watching Shag, and every time I hear Price sing it, I think of that scene and just want to put on my shaggin’ shoes and go to town. (Okay, so I don’t really know how to shag, but whatever.)
Seeing my tweet about my love for Mr. Price’s “Stagger Lee,” the lovely Jeff Giles asked if I’d ever heard the version by Chris Whitley & Jeff Lang. I replied that I hadn’t, and within the hour an MP3 was waiting in my in-box. After listening to it and telling Jeff how much I liked it, a discussion about some of the other versions of the song began, ultimately leading to the idea of this feature, which I hope continues with the thoughts of members of the talented Popdose staff on other oft-covered songs.
Now, much has been written about the Stagger Lee story and even about the many versions of the song; I’m certainly not going to try and rehash everything for you here. Instead I’d encourage you to read this and this, and if that’s not enough Stagger Lee history for you, there’s always Wikipedia. Rather, what I wanted to talk about here is what I love about the song and its many renditions.
You know that sinking feeling you get when you hear your boss say: “Hey, can I see you in my office?” Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. And if you don’t, then you’re one of the fortunate few who hasn’t been laid off, downsized, made redundant, or just lost a job.
I was laid off last June as part of the first wave of this recession, and at the time, I thought: “Well, I’ll find something in the next two or three months.” Three months turned into four, four into seven, and even though I was doing all the things one is supposed to do when looking for work, I had exactly one interview for an editorial job, and then … nothing but polite letters of rejection.
Of course, as I was trying to change my microeconomic situation, the global macroeconomic terrain shifted and what little air was left inside the bubble leaked out in an SBD way, causing many jobs to wither up and die in its cloud of noxious fumes. Every day, it seemed, employment news got worse and worse, and every day I tried to keep my chin up and not let the bad news affect my motivation level. I gotta say, it was tough at times, and if it wasn’t for family and friends, it would have been pretty bleak.
If there’s an uplifting note to this story it’s that I did find gainful employment. However, right as I was ready to start my new job (at the company that had laid me off seven months previous), my wife, and then my brother, lost their jobs. I heard from acquaintances, friends, and friends of friends about the snowballing effect this recession is having on the employment situation of many who thought their jobs were secure. I’m sure you’ve heard similar stories, and maybe you’re one of them. It’s all so depressing and, in some ways, numbing. Pretty boo-hoo stuff, really. But if you find yourself wallowing in self-pity, or just need an infusion of sympathy for those less fortunate than you, here’s a little mix I whipped up for times like these.
Love may mean never having to say you’re sorry, but don’t be sorry about having to take a shit job for less pay just to keep your head above water – even if the Clash highlight a few soul-killing jobs in this tune. Just remember: it’s not forever. Things will turn around and when you’re in a position to, you can tell your boss to take this job and shove it. (more…)
No time for love, Dr. Jones. The fakes await! As I mentioned last week, this post is devoted to the cinematic musical alter egos (and some non-cinematic ones as well) and as Jon Cummings mentioned last week, he did it first. Undaunted, I’m sending my posse over to his abode to knock ‘im into shape. Yes, my posse consists of a penguin, a rabbit and a cat that has used up one too many lives.
So Opus, Bill and all the rest never made it to the movies, but they should have, and considering how bankrupt Hollywood is for ideas, they may yet get there someday. In the meantime, we have volumes of Berke Breathed’s Bloom Countycomic strips and a flexi-disc with two of Billy and the Boingers’ (formerly Deathtongue) “hits.” “I’m a Boinger” is rather hard on the ears, the kind of sledgehammer comedy fans used to send to the Dr. Demento show after listening to too much “Weird Al” Yankovic. “U Stink But I Love U,” on the other hand, is obnoxious, but was performed by the very real hardcore band Mucky Pup. They even got the tuba in, so big points for that.
Last week, I gave credit to Bill Nighy for singing his parts in the film Still Crazy. This week, I’m doing the same for Hugh Grant. What an insane world we live in. Having never seen the film Music and Lyrics(2007), all I knew about it was that Grant played a former pop star from a band (loosely modeled on Wham!) called PoP! His forte was the music, but now as a writer for hire, he’s contracted to create a hit tune for rising pop music starlet and he’s in need of a lyricist. Enter Drew Barrymore, a lyricist on the rise. The rest is rom-com history. Now, there was no need for Grant to sing on the soundtrack, as I think an audience would have given him that latitude. I mean, it’s Hugh Grant. He’s not a singer and nobody really expects anything at all from him. To my shock, “PoP Goes My Heart” is a rather faithful approximation of ’80s synth-pop and I have to offer my apologies. What I will not apologize for is a Wiki blurb indicating David Hasselhoff covered the song and had a hit in Germany with it. I’m calling Bravo Sierra on that one… (more…)
Welcome back to CHART ATTACK!, all new for 2009! This year we’ll be doing much like we’ve done in the past: ripping apart Billboard Top 10 charts for years ranging from the early ’70s to the early ’90s. You know the drill: some of ‘em are going to be great; some will be abysmal; some will feature way too many appearances by stupid Andy Gibb. (Not this week — just his brothers.)
This week, we’re looking at early 1983, a fairly diverse week featuring punk, pop, R&B, adult contemporary and whatever category you want to stick “Dirty Laundry” into. Also, here are a few of the odd words you’ll find in this week’s chart: Sharif, Serengeti, she-cat, and Vegemite. We’re also featuring three songs that, in some way or another, essentially were given a second chance on the charts this week. Which ones? Stay tuned as we attack January 15, 1983!
“Africa” holds my spot for the best song on this relatively solid Top 10, but “Heartbreaker” is in second place. It has very little to do with Dionne Warwick; while her vocal is fine, I think I’d also be okay with a number of other female vocalists singing. It’s more about the chorus, which is not only unmistakably catchy but contains just the right amount of Bee Gees — the fantastic backing vocals with none of the ridiculous falsetto wailing that Barry prefers to use at every turn. And once again we have to give credit to Mr. Gibb for wisely handing out his songs to other vocalists at a time when the Bee Gees were certainly less welcome on the charts. This one wasn’t initially his idea, though: in ‘82, Barry had planned on collaborating with a few different female vocalists for an album he was working on, but Clive Davis asked him if he’d write an album of material for Warwick. He did so, and though Warwick didn’t really care for “Heartbreaker,” she recorded it anyway — and it wound up being her biggest solo hit of the decade. I can’t believe I love “Heartbreaker” more than Dionne Warwick. Anyway, the Bee Gees eventually recorded their own version in 2002:
The original demo can also be found on YouTube (or on iTunes). Beware, though: Barry sings the whole thing utilizing the aforementioned falsetto wailing.
9. Rock the Casbah — The Clash
One can only imagine what Joe Strummer thought about spending time in the Top 10 next to Dionne Warwick. Even worse, only a few weeks later he’d wind up stuck next to Eddie Rabbitt and Crystal Gayle. The Clash’s Top 40 singles were far and few between — we’re talking this one and “Train in Vain (Stand By Me).” (”Should I Stay or Should I Go” reached #45.)
“Rock the Casbah” was born out of a piano part composed by drummer Topper Headon, and it’s Headon who plays bass, drums and piano on the track. The origins of the lyrics have been disputed, but the story I’ve heard the most is that Strummer was inspired by a news report of Iranians being flogged for owning disco music. I don’t see why that’s so wrong.
So you say that your finances are under more pressure than Rod Blagojevich and you still have gifts to buy for the holidays? Join the club. When you think about it, books make a really sensible gift. In addition to providing hours of pleasure for your loved ones, they cost very little in the scheme of things, and with online discounters like Amazon offering free shipping for orders over $25, well, it’s somewhat of a no-brainer. I completed most of my list last week by spending less than ten minutes online, and the order arrived at my door two days later. No malls. No lines. No parking nightmares.
This year there are a lot of good book options for the music lovers in your life. None of the books that appear here cost more than $30 on Amazon, and most are considerably less expensive. There are coffee table books, and interesting biographies. Know someone who is not that interested in music? I’ve provided some good choices for them as well, with a couple of excellent novels, a wise and witty look at the first colonists of this country, and a biography of one of the pre-eminent journalists of the last half-century.
The books are listed in order of genre, not preference. Without further ado, here are my gift choices.
It’s good to have friends, and Q has a lot of them. Before his own recollections even begin, there are introductory valedictories from the likes of Oprah Winfrey, Bono, Clint Eastwood, and Maya Angelou. This beautifully put together volume provides extraordinary access to a man who has been at the forefront of the music business for decades, working with everyone from Frank Sinatra to Michael Jackson. There are private notebooks, correspondence, and photographs, along with reproductions of report cards, track sheets, and accounting ledgers. (more…)
Certain albums deserve to be heard outside the confines of small headphone speakers and cranked through the stereos of traveling cars speeding down the freeway. The ’59 Sound, the sophomore release from New Jersey’s the Gaslight Anthem, earns this classification through 12 songs of heartland rock and roll that make it one of the most exciting records released this year.
From the opening scratch of a turntable needle touching down on well-loved vinyl, The ’59 Sound proudly declares that this record is seeped in the sounds and traditions of classic ’60s soul, ’70s classic rock, and the garage band DIY punk music of the early ’80s.  The music of the Gaslight Anthem recalls the Clash, the Replacements, and, in particular, their Jersey forefather, Bruce Springsteen. Indeed, with this fervent collection of songs, both wonderfully melodic and just this side of polished, the Gaslight Anthem builds on the redeeming promise of rock and roll whose groundwork was laid in the rainy streets of London, the frozen tundra of Minneapolis, and the swamps of Jersey.
The ‘59 Sound is full of the images of broken hearts, shattered dreams and untimely deaths. Yet, percolating beneath the surface is a sense of hope and determination. This comes through from the band pouring their soul into playing passionate rock and roll music that contains the intricate details of the burdens placed on the shoulders of everyday, ordinary people. The Gaslight Anthem plays with the precision of guys who have been out on the road for over a year, building their reputation. With limited funds to produce their record, every note counts, every take is precious. And it shows in the way bassist Alex Levine and guitarist Alex Rosamilia riff off of each other and the manner in which drummer Benny Horowitz attacks the beat. Finally, front man Brian Fallon sings each note with the conviction and feeling of his idols, including not only Springsteen, but also Sam Cooke and Otis Redding. (more…)
So here’s my question of the week for you — what the hell is a “fancy dancer”?
I’ve been listening to a lot of ‘80s funk and R&B lately and I keep hearing that term pop up. There’s One Way’s “Pull Fancy Dancer/Pull,” Twennynine and Lenny White’s “Fancy Dancer,” and before those two there was the Commodores’ own song from 1976 called “Fancy Dancer.” I still don’t know what a fancy dancer is, though. I assume it’s someone who dances in a non-boring fashion — maybe a person who wears some attention-grabbing clothing or is simply superfly.
However, I do know that I’ve been talking about fancy dancers for the past three weeks now, and every time my unborn child starts kicking my wife, she calls him a fancy dancer. So it’s about time I figured out what the true definition is. Can anyone help? Better yet, were any of you a fancy dancer in the ’80s?
NEW MUSIC FOR THE COLLECTION:
Mai Tai, Mai Tai
Curtis Mayfield, Love Is the Place
House of Freaks, Tantilla
This week, an abbreviated edition centering on the letter “C,” as we continue wading through the muck at the bottom of the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the ’80s.
About a month ago, while I was working on my Soundtrack Saturday post about 
So Opus, Bill and all the rest never made it to the movies, but they should have, and considering how bankrupt Hollywood is for ideas, they may yet get there someday. In the meantime, we have volumes of Berke Breathed’s 
. They even got the tuba in, so big points for that.
. This week, I’m doing the same for Hugh Grant. What an insane world we live in. Having never seen the film 
Certain albums deserve to be heard outside the confines of small headphone speakers and cranked through the stereos of traveling cars speeding down the freeway. 
