droogs of stonehenge

 
Now. It is my assumption that the following 2'57" is not some veiled reference to NASA fueled excesses over the plains of New Mexico. Or covert cold war dramas outrunning missiles over Soviet air space.

Tearing the back seat out of the sound barrier.

This, despite dandified drummer Steve Tindall's passing resemblance to Thunderclap Newman's Speedy Keene; offset, even more bizarrely, by a ludicrous calabash pipe of the type favoured by a cocaine addled Sherlock Holmes. On and off his game.

NYC based The Druids established their order in 1965. Sessions for Nola Records produced a fairly pedestrian concoction of standard garage fare heavily indebted to the 'British Invasion'. A crudely propelled biplane cobbled together with Cow Gum and string. 

Three years later, the appended Druids of Stonehenge upped sticks and promptly relocated to the patchouli scented intersection of Haight-Ashbury, settling into orbit around the UNI label. 

Their resulting stab at the big time, "Creation", proved more of a rudimentary feint than a well honed blow. Those druids. All dressed up in the height of summer and still no place to go. 

Almusic's Richie Unterberger rightly celebrates the strand of 'surliness' resistant to Susan on the west coast waiting. More so, his assertion that vocalist Dave Budge evinced a hint of cabaret at odds with any genuine attempt to break out of the room. The inclusion of covers - "I Put a Spell on You";  "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" - seems more desperately recalcitrant than righteously cynical. Minor league in spite of the original material showcased throughout. 

Their opting for Arthur Lee's "Signed D.C." is especially predictable. If altogether symptomatic of lovely winds of change.

Still. Nowhere have I stumbled upon any dedicated reference to the particular highlight here. Well. Swan Fungus got the jump on me with its inclusion in one of his Sunday Mix Tapes, infuriatingly. Rather, that would be case had I heard it there first.

Not for the first time, Fungus exhibits taste.

A proto switchblade jab of neanderthal punk, paced at a stumble, "Speed" ought to have been on jukeboxes everywhere in the dark corners of 1968. Luddite tub thumping on an overseas U.S. Air Force base. While the twelve-year-olds safely raid the medicine cabinet; the military policeman's wife irons his stripes.

Nobody was listening.


image: Mr. Natural Comix #2, R. Crumb.


▼ THE DRUIDS OF STONEHENGE: SPEED from "Creation" LP (UNI) 1968 (US)

déjà vu: hector's house

What started out in my brain as a Midnight Florida Fantasy soon escalated into a delirium haunted by flutterings of ZaZa & Kiki in "La Maison de Toutou". Which ultimately led me here.

According to the mighty Loronix, "O Violão E... Tapajós" is the second album from Sebastião Tapajós; produced by João Mello, featuring only Tapajós and his violão. And some beguiling percussion.

A confession: I have not visited there for quite some time, so it is with much sadness that I notice there are no newer entries than that dated September 23rd, 2009. After a week plagued by more seemingly indiscriminate DMCA murmerings, this painstaking effort of amateur vinyl excavation waxes especially eloquent. And raises dark notions of mortality.

To quote directly, Zecalouro:

"This is probably the most complex album restoration made so far at Loronix, including cover artworks and especially the music. I had to use that equilibrium of noise reduction against loss of frequencies, and I stood in the middle of it. There are many pops, clicks, clacks and hiss ... but this album is so beautiful and so hard to find that I decided to show friends, in spite of these problems."

As to more immediate grieving, I crossed paths with a neighbour out there who recently lost her husband to cancer. Her loss coincides with the relentless chipping away of the decaying block which towered over us as we spoke, an endgame in preparation for more invasive surgery.

"Ho! You f@ckin' cunt!" one of the worker ants yelled from a seventeenth floor window. His round face and shoulders framed by a few jagged shards of glass.

Certainly, it dispenses with the tedium of taking the stairs.

He might have been hailing a colleague. Like smouldering blunts, his words scattered on the wind like so much injurious debris.

My neighbour appeared not to notice. Fate is arbitrary and by definition unchallengeable. Its Takedown Notice almost always unforseen. Her husband was given three months to live and died two days after his prognosis. She is holding up as well as can be expected. Our housing association very kindly refused to lend assistance - or squander resources - in removing any items which might foster unpleasant memories. Or cause a wound to fester.

I glanced up at the chimpanzee leering out the window.

On the opposite side of that same concrete block, one Sunday afternoon four or five years ago, a young woman was hurled to her death. A nurse. It was rumoured the apartment she fell from was a drug den. More accurately, she was in the wrong place at quite the wrong time. Allegedly, she clung desperately to the windowsill in those last few seconds until a second woman brought a claw hammer down on her fingertips. The resulting dent in the asphalt below was never properly filled in; there was a log jam in the lifts as people fought to get down there for a spot of rubbernecking before the ambulance arrived.

I was in the process of leaving that block myself, after what was a painful visit, and there was a queue on every landing all the way down.

Fate is like that. It might just as easily have caused some loudmouthed moron to momentarily lose his footing and bleed out from an arterial wound, passing schoolchildren squinting up in alarm. Beleaguered scouts mindful of a sniper.

It didn't.


▼ SEBASTIĀO TAPAJÓS: CARIMBÓ from "O Violão E... Tapajós" LP (Forma) 1968 (Brazil)

bang the drum

the circus comes to toy town.

From the subsidiary imprint of Don Robey's Peacock Records, operating out of Houston, Texas from 1949 until 1974.

Every time Brown tries to get down with the people - in making a quip about competing for votes with the X-Factor - it makes me wince. 

The whole discomfitting charade reminds me of Richard Milhous Nixon's passing resemblance to Ed Sullivan.

Still. Things can indeed get worse. Witness Mr. Blue's excruciating collaboration with one Gary Barlow.

▼ LITTLE CARL CARLTON: COMPETITION AIN'T NOTHIN' from "Competition Ain't Nothin' b/w Three Way Love" 45 (Back Beat) 1968 (US)

bleecker and drookit

I had no real idea who dunnit, but I came across it while 'shopping' for spoils from Allen Ginsberg's "Howl". This is not it.

From Wiki:

"[Eric] Drooker grew up in Manhattan's Stuyvesant Town, relatively close to the Lower East Side, which was then a working-class immigrant neighborhood with a tradition of left-wing political activism. Drooker developed an early interest in graphic arts and cartoons, particularly the woodcut novels of Frans Masereel and Lynd Ward and the underground comics of Robert Crumb."

The illustration - a woodcut, I believe, or something in lino with real fur trim - is from his 1992 collaboration with Ginsberg, "Illuminated Poems", published by Four Walls Eight Windows, NYC.

The last time I dallied with Ginsberg, Punk Rock and Old Pond, and the Nova Connection, it accompanied a line or two on tired facial hair. The pressing need to abolish the ugly. These days, I am a prickly peach. A potato gone to seed.

I f@cking hate telephones.

▼ ALLEN GINSBERG: I'M A VICTIM OF TELEPHONES (DEC. 1968) from "Disconnected: Dial-a-Poem Poets" LP (Giorno Poetry Systems) 1974 (US)

some kind of hollocaust [reduxe]

A deceptive lull from the raging tempest of Amon Düül's abrasive 1969 debut; which on the whole is a splendid regurgitation of everything which made the Velvet Underground bad, dangerous and hard to get along with. Reheated over the coals of a collective opt-out which was, in truth, every father's worst fear.

Without exaggeration, the sound of the original Amon Düül is of communal exorcism. A vast communal dirge of tribal stomping; self eviscaration; and the channeling of the ancestral dead.

It should not be confused with the progressive experimentation of Amon Düül II, the splinter cooperative responsible for the Liberty issued "Phallus Dei" (in that same year); "Yeti" (1972); and a host of Planet Gong inspired studio embellishments and proto Lydonish utterances. Amon Düül, I, is what huddles at the source of the fictional "Nung" river of Kurtz's "Heart of Darkness".

"Kaskados Minneleid" is a pastoral recouping in the glow of the seventeen minute insurgence which is "Ein Wunderhübsches Mädchen Träumt von Sandosa", an uncontained riot presided over by shamans intent on invoking a violence the Velvet Underground were too aloof or listless to persist with. 

A primal trance where a deified Maureen Tucker watches over a bloodied sisterhood backlit by torches. Flesh for the vat. Flints in the ashes.

The original Amon Düül were responsible for just three releases between 1969 and 1971, culminating in "Disaster".

All three albums allegendly spring from one epic 'jam' recorded in 1968. A forth, "Paradieswaerts Duulis" - predating "Disaster", and released on Ohr in 1970 - is a wholly different regrouping comprising just three songs and seemingly recorded at a much later date; certainly after Amon Düül's demise.

collectively:
Peter Leopold; Ullrich Leopold; Rainer Bauer; Ella Bauer; Uschi Obermaier; 
Helge Filanda; Angelica Filanda; Krischke; Eleonora Romana.

▼ AMON DÜÜL: KASKADOS MINNELEID from "Psychedelic Underground" LP (Metronome) 1969 (Germany)

DEJA BØNUS VU:
▼ AMON DÜÜL: EIN WUNDERHUBSCHES MÄDCHED TRÄUMT VON SANDOSA from "Psychedelic Underground" LP (Metronome) 1969 (Germany)

bubblegum, comic strip, disco bullet

Arranged and conducted by Michel Colombier. Recorded at Hoche Studios, Paris; 11th & 12th December 1967.

bul•let |ˌbʊlɪt|
noun
ORIGIN early 16th cent.(denoting a cannonball): from French boulet,
boulette ‘small ball’, diminutive of boule, from Latin bulla ‘bubble'.

Released Jan 2nd, 1968.

▼ SERGE GAINSBOURG: BONNIE AND CLYDE from "Bonnie And Clyde b/w Comic Strip / Bubblegum" EP (Fontana) 1968 (France)

silver tongues and crosses

Recorded in the studio and live at Filmore East and West - with el capitán, Dino Valente conspicuously in or out of the frame and serving a two year stretch for marijuana possession - "Happy Trails" is a saturnine tour de force of worming guitar and flowering intent.

Kings of the Bay Area, "Maiden of the Cancer Moon" is second guitarist Gary Duncan's crowning achievement; building seamlessly into the epic, "Calvary", which is given its definitive 'reading' live in the studio coming up on acid, laid bare at Golden State Recorders, San Francisco on November 19th, 1968.

Reap it and weep.

This is communion with more concrete seals than wafers or fish on the tongue.

John Cippolina: guitar;

Gary Duncan: guitar;
Greg Elmore: drums;
David Freiberg: bass.

▼ QUICKSILVER MESSENGER SERVICE: MAIDEN OF THE CANCER MOON from "Happy Trails" LP (Capitol) 1969 (US)
▼ QUICKSILVER MESSENGER SERVICE: CALVARY (LIVE 19/11/68) from "Happy Trails" LP (Capitol) 1969 (US)

philadelphia freedom: drake's cake iced

protect yourself, people. back up.

The following post on Philly Soul legends, The Intruders - sans all audio links - originally ran here on December 3rd, 2008 and was very recently the subject of a DMCA Takedown Notification. If you are fortunate to own their "Cowboys to Girls" LP on Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff's fledgling label, count your blessings.

As it is, there are myriad CD compilations - not least a retrospective, "The Best of the Intruders", issued under the "Cowboys to Girls" banner on Sony Records, which can be purchased for less than $8 through Amazon - lurking in basement bargain bins and charity shops in a city near you.

From Wiki:

""Don't be evil" is the informal corporate motto (or slogan) for Google, originally suggested by Google employees Paul Buchheit and Amit Patel at a meeting. Buchheit, the creator of Gmail, said he "wanted something that, once you put it in there, would be hard to take out," adding that the slogan was "also a bit of a jab at a lot of the other companies, especially our competitors, who at the time, in our opinion, were kind of exploiting the users to some extent."

"Don't be evil" is said to recognize that large corporations can often maximize short-term profits with actions that destroy long-term brand image and competitive position. By instilling a Don't Be Evil culture, the corporation establishes a baseline for decision making that can enhance the trust and image of the corporation that outweighs short-term gains from violating the Don't Be Evil principles.

While many companies have ethical codes to govern their conduct, Google made "Don't Be Evil" a central pillar of their identity, and part of their self-proclaimed core values."

The issue here, as stated previously, concerns the wholesale deletion of original user content over and above potentially offending infringement; which might, in itself, be more properly resolved on a mutually amicable basis. In short: identify the offending content and make transparent who is acting on whose behalf.

Anything less is mere corporate bullying. The sort of revisionist tactic employed by agents of those with something to hide.


philadelphia, 1968. photograph by jill freedman.


north philly, 2006. photograph by etombotron.

south philadelphia, 1968. photograph by bill wingell.

"Formed in the early sixties, The Intruders were four Philadelphians... Singing together since 1961, the group blended Philly's street corner doo-wop tradition with black gospel influences that attracted Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff to sign them to their fledgling record company, Philadelphia International Records."

The Intruders:
Sam "Little Sonny" Brown; Eugene "Bird" Daughtry;
Phillip "Phil" Terry; Robert "Big Sonny" Edwards.

Produced by Kenny gamble & Leon Huff.
The Sound of Philadelphia.

THE INTRUDERS ON SOUL WALKING
PREVIOUSLY: EVIL IS AS EVIL DOES

air raid

"testing, testing: 1-2-3-4..."

I was somewhat dismayed earlier today to find that Warden's World has mysteriously been deleted.

If you are out there, Warden... What's up ? Have you gone FTP or switched to a custom domain or what ?

Written by Erc Burdon; Vic Briggs; Barry Jenkins.

▼ ERIC BURDON & THE ANIMALS: SKY PILOT (PARTS I & II) [STEREO] from "The Twain Shall Meet" LP (MGM / POLYDOR) 1968 (UK / US)

polo neck

syd barrett, 1965.

From the Floyd's first outing wholly recorded without contribution from Syd. "Music from the Film More" is a well crafted document exploring their original soundtrack to the picture directed by Barbet Schroeder. Many of the songs featured bear scant resemblance to their cinematic counterparts, and in tonality builds on the themes first explored on "Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" from their second long player.

This low key offering, written by Waters with vocals by Barrett's replacement David Gilmour, sounds in part like a eulogy for Barrett and briefly features some outstanding guitar in the song's closing moments.

The schools here are officially out as of today. The skies are clear and heat has been turned back up a notch. Be thankful, then, I did not inflict Gilmour's "Fat Old Sun" upon you, siblings.

▼ PINK FLOYD: CRYING SONG from "Music From The Film More" LP (Columbia EMI) 1968 (UK)

the man who knew too much

...or nothing much at all.

white•wash |ˌwʌɪtwɒʃ|
noun
1 a solution of lime and water or of whiting, size, and water, used for painting walls white.
• (also white•wash•ing) a deliberate concealment of someone's mistakes or faults in order to clear their name.
2 a victory in a game in which the loser scores no points.

verb [ trans. ]
1 [usu. as adj. ] ( whitewashed) paint (a wall, building, or room) with whitewash.
• try to clear (someone or their name) by deliberately concealing their mistakes or faults : his wife must have wanted to whitewash his reputation.
• deliberately conceal (someone's mistakes or faults) : this is not to whitewash the actual political practice of the government.
2 defeat (an opponent), keeping them from scoring.

DERIVATIVES
white•wash•er noun

Ah, so. The painting is done. Well. Almost. F@ck that "soft chalk" misnomer on the label; looks suspiciously Caucasian to me - run of the mill white, no Chinese - and in the end required just as many throws on the roller.

More coats than a kraut in Stalingrad.

My muscles ache and to compound matters I do not appear to have lost even an inch around the waist. Rather optimistically, I had hoped to to go down a dress size at the very least. And the ceiling mocks me still with its wan complexion. Like Lon Chaney or Peter Lorre; Factor 30 sun screen fading into grotesque streaks. Cracked and peeling at the edges.
Still. Now that Iggy has stooped to peddling insurance on the backs of buses, my wearying ineptitude with a paint brush scarcely makes an impression. "Search and Destroy" ? Only so far as you're covered.

Myself, I sold insurance for a time, I must confess. An agent of doom in lean times. It was not a good gig.
It took me the better part of a day just to put this 'workstation' back together. An explosion of cable terminating in an internet connection. I almost didn't make it. Round-shouldered and scowling miserably, the temptation to crumble and flop onto the sofa in a menopausal fatigue was all but unbearable. Lacking alcohol, I persisted with the attempt to keep up appearances. And, having unearthed enough governmental hate mail to instigate a suicide in the process of clearing shit from corners, what remained of my afternoon was taken up with the wholly unenviable task of prioritizing and shredding.

All I needed was a rubber mask. Richard Milhous Nixon. Or Gordon Brown.

In the final analysis, as Joe might tell you:

"You get four guys fighting over who's gonna be Mr. Black. Since nobody knows anybody else, nobody wants to back down. So forget it, I pick. Be thankful you're not Mr. Yellow."

"Yeah, but Mr. Brown? That's too close to Mr. Shit."

You've seen the movie. Now we just have to rewrite the last few frames.

Written by Jack Bruce and Pete Brown.
Recorded July 1967 - April 1968 at Atlantic Studios, New York City.
Produced by Felix Pappalardi.

▼ CREAM: WHITE ROOM from "Wheels Of Fire" LP (Polydor) 1968 (UK)

02/03

Tau•rus |ˌtɔːrəs|

1 Astronomy a constellation (the Bull), said to represent a bull with brazen feet that was
tamed by Jason. Its many bright stars include Aldebaran (the bull's eye), and it contains
the Crab Nebula and the star clusters of the Hyades and the Pleiades.
• [as genitive ] ( Tauri |ˌtɔːriː|)
used with a preceding letter or numeral to designate
a star in this constellation : the star Beta Tauri.

2 Astrology the second sign of the zodiac, which the sun enters on about April 21.
• ( a Taurus) ( pl. same) a person born when the sun is in this sign.

DERIVATIVES
Taurean |ˌtɔːrɪən| |tɔːˌriːən| noun & adjective (in sense 2) .

ORIGIN Latin.

Have a good one, NØ.

▼ SPIRIT: TAURUS from "Spirit" LP (Ode) 1968 (US) [r]

PURCHASE SPIRIT REMASTERED + BONUS TRACKS

uncherished symphony

Recorded at Olympic Studios, London. A Sister Morphine production.

The Glimmer siblings stuck po' Brian's head down the toilet and f@ckin' flushed it, Lucifer. Not just a lucky strike. There's a sucker born every damned minute.

▼ THE ROLLING STONES: SWEET LUCY from "Sympathy For The Devil: Beggars Banquet Outtakes" CD (Bootleg) 1968 (UK)

▼ THE ROLLING STONES: SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL (II) from "Sympathy For The Devil: Beggars Banquet Outtakes" CD (Bootleg) 1968 (UK)

13th floor elevator

David "Fathead" Newman's musical career began in 1954 as saxophonist in the Ray Charles Band.

A Texan of deviant colour, that's all she wrote. This one is over 40 years old. For a slightly more contemporary tale of Caucasian life on the 14th floor, see here.

David Fathead Newman: altosax & flute;
Cornell Dupree: guitar; Ellis Marsalis: piano;
James Clay: baritone sax;
Dennis Dotson: trumpet; Chuck Rainey: bass;
George Rains: drums.

Produced by Jim Yanaway; Cass Hook and Scout Stormcloud.
Engineered byRichard Mullen.
Recorded at Caravan of Dreams, Fort Worth, Texas.

▼ DAVID NEWMAN: THIRTEENTH FLOOR from "Bigger And Better" LP (Atlantic) 1968 (US)

landlocked

sibling jellyfish, by michael melford, 2007.

land•locked
adjective
(esp. of a country) almost or entirely surrounded by land; having no coastline or seaport : a midget state landlocked in the mountains.
• (of a lake) enclosed by land and having no navigable route to the sea.
• (of a fish, esp. a North American salmon) cut off from the sea in the past and now confined to fresh water.

You will of course be familiar with the version of this song from 1971's excellent "Surf's Up", released on the Wilsons' own Brother label. In 1968, the Beach Boys were still under contractual obligation to Capitol, and the tensions created by the "Smile" debacle were acute, palpable and insurmountable.

An album with the working title, "Landlocked" was submitted and promptly rejected on the basis that nothing contained therein was deemed commercial enough to worry the hit parade.

"Where is the f@cking single ?" Capitol demanded.

"Where is the f@cking single ?" Warner Brothers demanded, three years farther down the line.

Exhausted by years of constant wrangling and bickering, the Beach Boys simply shelved "Landlocked" and went back to the studio to begin work on a completely new album in June, '68, the recording sessions drifting over into late November with Brian Wilson continually perfecting new material. The result, "20/20" was eventually released in February of the following year and their "Break Away" 45 - harvested from those same sessions, I believe, but not included on the LP - was an early summer hit.



This version differs greatly from both the original "Landlocked" mix and the one held over until 1971. Remixed by engineer, Steve Desper, for his own listening pleasure, it also resurfaced on the soundtrack to the 1999 "Endless Harmony" documentary by Alan Boyd. The unreleased sessions were ultimately released as a bootleg of superior fidelity on the Invasion label.

▼ THE BEACH BOYS: 'TIL I DIE (STEVE DESPER MIX) from "Landlocked" Bootleg (Invasion) 1968 / 1971 (US)

terry melcher's favorite toy

Do not f@ckin' worry or...

alternatively, hold your breath. I have not been born again; once in a lifetime is quite enough.

Written by Ira and Charles Louvin, this is simply a dress rehearsal from the "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" sessions with Gram Parsons on vocals.

Fitting on a Sunday. Said Gary Usher:

“ McGuinn was a little bit edgy that Parsons was getting a little bit too much out of this whole thing.... He didn't want the album to turn into a Gram Parsons album. We wanted to keep Gram's voice in there, but we also wanted the recognition to come from Hillman and McGuinn, obviously. You just don't take a hit group and interject a new singer for no reason.... There were legal problems but they were resolved and the album had just the exact amount of Gram Parsons that McGuinn, Hillman and I wanted. ”

Those legal issues apparently revolved around the fact that Parsons was still under contract to Lee Hazlewood at the time of recording. Roger McGuinn was sufficiently "edgy" to erase the approved master vocals produced by Gary Usher and replace them with his own solo performances.

"The line-up for the album was very short lived. After playing a handful of concerts throughout the Los Angeles area, including a party at Ciro's (where the original line-up of The Byrds first gained acclaim) for legendary publicist Derek Taylor, the band embarked on a short European tour. Tapes reveal a very schizophrenic ensemble playing psychedelic-oriented material alongside the Nashville songs. A lipsynched performance on television found Parsons, who, in between concerts, had visited Stonehenge and befriended Keith Richards in what would become one of rock's most infamous associations, sarcastically miming McGuinn's "Eight Miles High" solo on dobro."

Well. F@ck it, brothers and sisters. I am a huge fan of Roger McGuinn's nasal Dylan interpretations. No doubt about it.

This is a document, not a traffic ticket.

▼ THE BYRDS: THE CHRISTIAN LIFE (REHEARSAL, TAKE #11) [BONUS TRACK] from "Sweetheart Of The Rodeo" CD (Columbia Legacy Edition) 1997 (US)

PURCHASE SWEETHEART OF THE RODEO REMASTERED + BONUS TRACKS

what the world needs now

Only...

one year before the Queen of Soul's definitive version, Dionne Warwick recorded this song on her Scepter released LP, "The Windows of the World", essentially one more Warwick / Bacharach vehicle to add to the catalogue; seven of the eleven tracks recorded were Burt Bacharach arrangements.

There is no escaping the songwriting genius of Bacharach and David.

The world would be a considerably shabbier place without their contribution.

By way of an aside. While visiting my local pharmacy this morning to collect a prescription, Rosa encouraged me to purchase a pack of ten plastic cigarette filters. They look not unlike a syringe attachment, but by design extract so many ml's of tar before it reaches the lungs. One filter is supposedly sufficient to absorb the crap from five to ten cigarettes in much the same way a carbon filter works on an automobile engine.

Bullshit.

After just three cigarettes, chain smoked between 10 AM and 10:30 AM, my synthetic fragment of mass produced Chinese grotequery was choked on a seeming surfeit of crude oil refinery byproducts.

I smoke too much. I know this. Just don't rub my f@cking face in it. I am allergic to the taint of ill advised - or premature - congratulations.

Or. Maybe I am just a killjoy ?

My son was sitting at his fold-down table with an HB pencil clutched in his fist. "What can I draw ?" he said. "Your pension," I replied.

He didn't laugh.

Jerry Jemmott: bass; Roger Hawkins: drums;
Spooner Oldham: electric piano, organ; Tommy Cogbill: guitar;
Aretha Franklin: piano, vocals;
Floyd Newman, Willie Bridges: barritone saxophones;
Andrew Love, Charles Chalmers: tenor saxophones;
Wayne Jackson: trumpet.

Arranged by: Arif Mardin, Tom Dowd. Produced by Jerry Wexler.

▼ ARETHA FRANKLIN: I SAY A LITTLE PRAYER from "Aretha Now" LP (Atlantic) 1968 (US)

PURCHASE ARETHA NOW REMASTERED

my name is jack

r. crumb by charles burns.

This single, released on Fontana in the early summer of 1968 - dragging on the heels of a 45 version of Dylan's "Mighty Quinn" and Mann's theme from the kitchen sink drama, "Up the Junction" - reached the number 8 spot on the UK charts but did not even break the Top 100 in the US.

A John Simon composition, lyrically there is little about the song to merit critical favour. It is an anachronism which touches on real issues only in the most hideously superficial sense, a populist piece of bubblegum flavoured crap, but for all its crassness it nevertheless seems to form a concrete bridge of sorts between that era and the more cynical 1970's where groups like the Tom Robinson Band were positioned to explore similar avenues with sensitivity and a genuine impetus to effect change.

Whenever I hear this song I think of child actor, Jack Wilde and his rise and descent from "Oliver" through "H.R. Pufnstuf" into alcoholism and obscurity. Worse, it also makes me dwell uncomfortably on newsreel footage of Fred and Rosemary West and their house of horrors on Cromwell Street.

Whatever. In essence, it is greater than the sum of its parts.

▼ MANFRED MANN: MY NAME IS JACK from "My Name Is Jack b/w There Is A Man" 45 (Fontana) 1968 (UK)

child of the moon

illustration: "la voyage dans la lune" by george méliès, 1902.


"I saw the new moon late yestreen,
Wi' the auld moon in her arm:
And if ye gang to sea, maister,
I fear we'll suffer harm."

- from the anonymous Scottish ballad:
"Sir Patrick Spens".
knit one, purl one; satellite of love (part ix):

Tonight I couldn't find the moon. The clouds
were thick but invisible in the black overhang,
not even the North Star could be seen, it is
bullshit anyway; it is only a dead satellite and
radio static. A google eye for government hire.

I walked my son home from his Valentine dance.
His face, though red with exertion, was solemn.
He was pissed that his teachers had partnered
him off with some girl. He was more irritated than
shy. Girls, who needs them ? he said. Wise man.


▼ THE ROLLING STONES: CHILD OF THE MOON from "Jumpin' Jack Flash b/w Child Of The Moon" 45 (Decca) 1968 (UK) [r]

PURCHASE STONES: SINGLES 1968-1971 BOX SET

$6 motel recovery

My PC is badly in need of one of its regular dusting downs; a time-consuming process which fills me with dread. It has already gone into thermal shutdown mode twice this morning in order to protect itself from permanent damage, so if I suddenly disappear into the ether you will know the reason why.

My Hard Drive is choking on unnecessary data. My memory is failing. Were REM not senior citizens - or close to it - they would probably have called themselves RAM. As it is, I tend to be less gung-ho about such technical matters than someone significantly younger.

I perspire and curse a lot, and my hands perceptibly tremble.

And that's just on account of the alcohol.

My reference to Topanga Canyon in a recent post no doubt prompted me to dig this out. I've touched on Spirit previously - their 1968 debut, specifically - but since we are at the beginning of a new year, it seems fitting to dredge up a release from 40 years ago precisely... Actually, I have also featured "Ice" from "Clear", too, so just to keep the threadbare Charlie theme running a while longer let's turn our attention to their second release for Ode - an imprint of Columbia - "The Family that Plays Together Stays Together".

Not as jazz oriented as either their debut or "Clear", this LP, I would argue, is far more conventially alligned and radio friendly. This track showcases some nicely underplayed acoustic work from the late Randy California. The sound of Los Angeles, CA before Helter Skelter.

Randy California: guitar, vocals; Mark Andes: bass; Ed Cassidy: drums;
John Locke: keyboards; Jay Ferguson: vocals, percussion.
Produced by Lou Adler.

▼ SPIRIT: SHE SMILES from "The Family That Plays Together Stays Together" LP (Ode/Columbia) 1968 (US)

PURCHASE THE FAMILY THAT PLAYS TOGETHER STAYS TOGETHER REMASTERED + BONUS TRACKS