Susanna Hoffs Dept. - Susanna Hoffs

Older readers - and that's you, as in elderly, pally - will be familiar with Ms. Hoff's all-too frequent visits to th' IoF©, to the point of irritation on my part. Yes, I understand how my buff, chiseled bod drives her feral with lust - she's flesh and blood - but a man needs occasional rest, consarn it. And a little respect? Am I merely a sexual chew toy, a mechanical device to release the pent-up ecstasy in womankind? Could we not just, I don't know, play Mousetrap© sometimes? Pickleball?

Oh, I'll admit that at first, when she vouchsafed that it was I of whom she fantasised as she writhed naked on the studio floor recording Eternal Flame, I was flattered. But her persistence - four, five times a night, readers! - quickly became irksome. And recently there's been something undignified about her increasingly desperate attempts to slake her womanly thirsts at the Fountain of my Manhood.

But when she offers me rare recordings - that I know will be enjoyed by th' Four Or Five Guys© - in return for another bout of my priapic prowess (much in demand to cure the Gentle Sex of the Curse of Sapphism) I find it hard to resist. I do it for you, dear readers.

Nobody, but nobody, wore a guitar better than this!

Some of Garage Music eventually saw the light of day as The Lost Album, but this is the real deal, including a track with Mike Myers and other songs that didn't get included on the re-think. My cover shews Ms. Hoffs in the actual garage where the music was recorded, in the actual year, and this is the extra yard I go for you feckless ingrates.

Turning Over Susanna Hoffs (something that is, alas, all too familiar to me), is from a few years earlier, and again versions of some of the songs appeared later on official releases.

They're both grand albums from a swell tomato.

This post made possible thru my selfless mastery of the Couch of Concupiscence, the Divan of Desire, the Chaise Longue of Shag, on your behalf. Don't thank me, it'll sound insincere. Just grab the consarned albums and amscray, ya bum.

Dreams of Syndication Dept. - Part Uno

Toothsome Kendra Smith on electric microphone, hunky Steve Wynn on electric guitar, moody Steve Suchilon on electric bass, flamboyant Russ Tolman on electric guitar, and pusillanimous Gavin Blair on electrically amplified drums. Together they are The Suspects, and this is what they sounded like in 1979, probably. You should know who these dudes are, but here's some screed what I stole from discogs® to clue in the clueless:

"Even before the Los Angeles-based Paisley Underground took shape, the Sacramento/Davis area of Northern California was an early focus of Paisley Underground bands and musicians, some of whom later moved to Los Angeles. The Suspects were a Davis-based predecessor to Dream Syndicate, formed in 1979 by guitarist Steve Wynn and bassist Kendra Smith (who were both disc jockeys at college radio station KDVS at the time), with Russ Tolman on rhythm guitar and Gavin Blair on drums. They released one single in 1979, and performed in the Davis area through 1981. When Wynn and Smith left for Los Angeles in 1981 and formed Dream Syndicate, Tolman and Blair remained in Davis and started up True West."

There's, like, a total of like, literally, like, literally thirteen minutes of music here. It's fun and it's bowel-crimpingly rare and I'm betting you don't gots!

This post funded in part by Dave's Famous Old Guy Underpants© out of Pismo Beach, CA. "Cut slack and high waisted, the way you like 'em! Now available in these five popular colorways - Off-Off-White, Damp Sack, Marine Mold, Yellowish, and classic Nose Paste. Ask to see our Pre-Stain™ range for the doubly incontinent!"

Obscure Delights Dept. - Boulevard Of Broken Dreams Orchestra

And yes, this is the vinyl cover. You can be too obscure! 

"I had this on vinyl, back in the day" and have searched for it fruitlessly, and vegetablelessly, ever since. It's hard to even search for on line, unless you love Green Day.

So this is my request to you - if you have it, or know somebody who does, please do me - and just about everybody else - a big favour and upload it!

discogs

Thanking you in advance.

Mac Gayden

 

Mac Gayden died last year. There was always something otherworldly about him, and now he's gone there ahead of us. He could bring out the exotic, the otherness, in a banjo. Listen to the opening instrumental, Queen Anne's Lace. In his hands it was the primeval instrument, as natural as birdsong, a long way from the hootenanny. Then it's Rising Sun, haunted by his slide playing, his voice straight from the heart, and the wordless ooohs that shiver your nerve endings. There's textures in Mac's music you don't hear anywhere else, that impossibly yearning guitar, and his distinctive voice, the leap into falsetto that carries you with it.

McGavock Gayden is an insanely rare album. Recorded in Nashville, only released in the UK. They did it proud with a nice and suitably enigmatic gatefold, but it barely made the shelves before being forgotten. I think Mac made it briefly available as a CDROM, but it never got a re-release, somebody lost the tapes. Brilliantly produced - layer upon layer - by Bob Johnston, it sounds like a heavenly host, but it's mostly just him, some help with backing vox, and Kenny Buttrey on drums. Look it up on Allmusic if you want to see the impact it made.

It's been on th' IoF© before, but only in a crackly vinyl rip, the best anybody could find at that point. So when my pal Andy sent me this pristine rip, it was like hearing the album for the first time. It's not lots of things; not Americana, not folk, not country and/or western, not rock or folk-rock, not prog, nor any other file-under. Songs stretch out and wander where they will, regardless of market potential. It's a very long album, fifty minutes, with no hint of a hit single, and not a note wasted.

He'd make two other superb albums in the seventies, before ducking out of whatever spotlight managed to find him, a respected session guitarist and performer. But it's those three albums, McGavock Gayden, Skyboat, and Hymn To The Seeker, that'll find new fans as long as there's music in the air and hearts to hear it.

Pass it around.

Thanks to Andy!

Susanna Hoffs Gets "Girl Boner" Boosting Low-Performing Zombies Post!

"I'm, like, the Zombies biggest fan!" Gushed pert n' pouting Susanna Hoffs, yesterday! "Just thinking of Colin Blunstone's oh-so-husky voice causes my lady garden to moisten!"

She was delighted to act as clickbait for an underperforming post featuring a significant upgrade to what the cognoscenti are already calling yet another fucking fan playlist. "I think what you've done is simply magnificent, Farq! It must come as a crushing disappointment that nobody gives a bag of possum farts! Why - you're crying! Let Susikins comfort her big boy!" [tape runs out - Ed.]

This [left - Ed] is a rethink of an album featured here a couple of times. A reshuffle, cuts, and surgical razorblade edits. Voilà. This is as sweet as I can make it. If the mood or the production didn't quite fit, it didn't make the cut. The album runs a little short, eleven songs, but better that than too long, a common failing of this type of exercise. This is consistent quality all the way through, with no compromises in the name of completeness or "authenticity". You, apparently, don't give a bag of possum farts.

You can play this right after Odessey & Oracle and you will not be disappointed! [Ri-i-ght, like that's gonna happen - Ed.]

A note about the title: I mis-spelled Iliad to mirror the mis-spelling of Odyssey. That's the kind of granular detail I put into these exclusive audio initiatives. Pearls before swine!