Play "What's In My Box?" With Nurse Diesel!

Don't mention "mound", OK?

Pia Zadora's Magic Box was a home-run hit with the Four Or Five Guys©! Pert n' pouty Pia is sadly unavailable to host this week's What's In My Box?, so long-time House O' Foam© lurker Nurse Diesel steps up to the plate to provide the second baseball metaphor in a single paragraph!

This time around, there's a subtly nuanced change to the rules. The download will be freely available on request, but all the meta-data [ask a ten year-old - Ed.] has been stripped from the file. Where's the fun in that? Well, using your skill and judgement, you have to name the album and the artist! Some fun, huh kids?

Perhaps it's already in your collection! Hoo boy! What a swell game! This week's prize for the winning answer is a life-size Ant Farm! [at right - Ed.] So, snap on those latex gloves and pull the Mystery Album from Nurse Diesel's Magic Box!

Here's a couple clues: It's from 1976, north of the border.

Are You, Perchance, Ready To Rock?

Because if you're not, today's post is going to be a bust. As the get-off-my-lawn crusty old-timer you are, you may have vestigial memories of "rocking out", back when you were limber enough to pick up a dropped nickel without going into tailspin. But younger readers (that's Watermélon and Tidemark Younger, of Suds County, MO) will be unfamiliar with the ritual. Well, fuck 'em.

The Doobie Brothers avoided being hip by a hairsbreadth, on account of their dogged insistence on "rocking out" - something the Dan smirked at. Their first album was in effect Introducing - a demo recorded (add wiki details here, please Ed, slightly rewritten to make me look knowledgeable) [No - Ed.]. The big surprise is that it sounds that hairsbreadth away from being finished, ready-to-rack - and ready to rock! [groan - Ed.]. It's more representative of their work than the official first album. It's super-swell.

Leonard Skinnard [I corrected the spelling - Ed.] have this in common with th' Doobs - they too recorded a damn-near finished album as a demo, which only got released ("saw release" as rock writers like to put it) decades later. Whereas [blow it out yer ass, FT3 - Ed.] the Bros demo is a bunch of original songs that never got re-recorded - mostly, probably - the Southern Rock maven will be familiar with the material here. Like the Doobies demo, it's a dynamite set that'll have you air-guitaring until Nurse Diesel sounds the enema klaxon!

Pcinemadelica Dept. - J. Fred Muggs Hosts!

Globe-trotting chimp J. Fred Muggs turned up at th' House O' Foam©! Sure, you know him from hosting N.B.C.'s Today program, but did you know he is also an enthusiastic and knowledgeable pop culture archivist?

We relaxed poolside yesterday while Cody served Cheez Whiz© eggnogs in frosted Sterno© cans.

FMF©: Being, like, an animal, this covid-19 curfew deal doesn't affect you, right?
JFM: [laughs] Yeah, you brought that one on yourselves! Suck it up, losers!
FMF©: Well, it's good to see you looking so well, J. Fred!
JFM: Yup! The whole world's benefiting from the pandemic, by George! Apart from you humans, of course! [laughs] Pollution's down, wild creatures venturing out, rain forest returning ... future's looking good if the virus holds!

FMF©: And you've brung some albums to share?
JFM: Right! While you're still alive [laughs]! 
FMF©: [laughs] American Dreamer? That's the movie about Dennis Hopper, right?
JFM: Yup. But what might be of special interest to th' Four Or Five Guys© is these associated solo albumens from John Buck Wilkin and John Manning, who contributed songs to the soundtrack. Lissen - I gotta go - bunch of us animals are having a street party to celebrate the end of the human race!

FMF©: [laughs]
JFM: [laughs]

Important Announcement Dept.

Socially distanced from you, fella.

From today, in order to comply with social distancing restrictions being imposed world-wide, Th' House O' Foam© is going on-line exclusively.

We hope that the Four Or Five Guys© will understand this move and continue to be engaged in the conversation!

Here's a picture of a dame in a bikini, for no good reason at all that I can think of.

"The Light That Burns Twice As Bright ..."

Blade Runner - and by that I mean Blade Runner - is probably the most influential movie ever made. It's also a great example of Teslacle's Deviant to Fudd's Law; "It comes in, it must go out." So much creativity and imagination went into making it at every level that we're still discovering new richness, and seeing the old in a new light. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

The staggeringly brilliant screenplay now sounds, as Shakespeare, like a collection of quotes. The soundtrack is not merely themes scored for scenes, or tunes flown in from the director's playlist, it is an environment in itself, a soundscape, seamlessly integrated with the visuals, creating a detailed aural universe. Vangelis' contribution is his finest work, avoiding his usual simplistic synth anthems and achieving an emotional depth that amplifies and resonates with what's up on the screen.

Today's Warehouse Of Sound© carryaway is the original soundtrack album, the fan-made multi-disc Esper Retirement Edition, and a nearly two-hour "immersion" mix from 2017.

Covers by FalseMemoryFoam© Art Department Dept., except where obviously not.

TL-DR Dept. - Pariah (Redux)

Older readers - excuse me while I savor the irony of that - may remember - who am I kidding? - have entirely forgotten - a piece what I wrote on Capitol's "Spite" Dylan album, wherein I made the bold claim that it's a perfectly swell little album that doesn't deserve to get the shit kicked out of it by sourhead Dylanophiles. Or anyone else. Leave it aloooone!

Talking of sourheads, The Grateful Dead have their share. They call themselves Deadheads, and what they know is more than we know, and gospel. Those Deadhead 101 CliffsNotes© in full:

1 "You had to be there." The Dead were only good live, especially at the gigs the Deadhead was at, wearing his vintage Dead tee, scribbling down the setlist, irritably protecting his mic tree and monitoring cassette capacity while everyone else was having a good time.

2 The Dead's studio albums mostly fail to capture the magic; they were recorded for people who couldn't get to the gigs, to fund the tours they couldn't get to, which were what the Dead were all about (see 1).

3 The Dead's live albums are mostly compromised. Preference is given to multi-disc box sets of entire concert runs you can stack on your shelf - unopened, please - to impress the Deadhead Inspector, should he drop by unexpectedly. Of all the live albums, the worst is Steal Your Face (wittily monickered Steal Your Money by Deadheads) because the Deadhead is on first-name terms with the band and privy to the behind-the-scenes back story, which you ain't.

Sourhead, elitist bullshit, all of it. But we're here to talk about Steal Your Face, which is not only a swell and easily-digestible double album but also - if you've been totally put off the band by Deadheads - a fine gateway drug to their œuvre [Fr. egg - Ed.]. To showcase a different aspect of the band than previous live albums, short songs were chosen, running from three to eight minutes. None of the lengthy jams for which the band were famous. "Indescribably poor song selection and complete lack of cohesion" froths our Allmusic nitwit, toeing the Deadhead line. Luckily, it's a line we don't have to toe. We're not sharing a camper van (or more likely a sinister man-cave) with a Deadhead and don't have to put up with this shit. We can enjoy a fine set of great songs well-played, which is what Steal Your Face is.

Today's offering is the remastered version from 2017's Grateful Dead Records Collection, which even Deadheads grumpily concede is preferable to previous digital iterations. I also have a rip of the original vinyl, if you're the kind of person who's interested in that kind of thing. I know I am.

Note: If you skipped to the end of this piece, go back and read the whole thing, dammit. You have nothing better to do right now. Admit it and be happy.

Lockdown Escape Music Dept.

Re-ups of my own mixes/whatevers. I know what you're thinking - it's all been done before, mostly badly, and it's pointless because these fan assemblages never take the place of the originals, which we're perfectly happy with. Yup?

The Monkees Head soundtrack album has been a personal favorite since it was impossible to find back in the early 'seventies. It's seen various alternate versions since the internet destroyed its rarity value, and all of them are basically slung-together song playlists, avoiding the sound collage sequences, but that's what I wanted more of. So I assembled all the available soundtrack and related studio source material - it's a vast sonic motherlode - and created one long, filmic soundtrack in Audacity, editing and overdubbing parts at granular level. I used alternate recordings where they were better, added contemporary songs that fit, and basically stripped out Davy Jones, which people didn't like. Boo hoo.

There's a lot going on here you need headphones and time and patience to appreciate, which makes it a tough sell (nobody likes the single track thing much, either - the attention span is too demanding). But the result - for me, at least - was worth it. A continuous, shifting Technicolor paisley swirl that's as different from their albums as the movie is from the T.V. show. Original album: 30 minutes, more or less. This: 36 minutes, more or less.

Burning Bridges is the soundtrack to Obscured By Clouds "re-imagined" (as the Young People like to say). This is an album well-loved by Floyd fans, but which never quite hit the spot for me. It lacked the cohesive feel that makes an album more than just a collection of tracks, and the sequencing was unsatisfactory. It always sounded like a potentially great album they just didn't spend enough time putting together. And the interminable P.N.G. native singing at the end? Oh - you like that.

The song sequence is changed, there are new segués and edits, but it's nothing like the drastic remake of Head. And again I went for the "immersive" (as the Young People like to say) single track approach. You're not going to cherry-pick songs, and movies aren't cut up into mini-movies, are they? The result is - according to my wild claim - an album that now directly and clearly prefigures Dark Side, and stands on its own as a greater work of art than the movie. Original album: 40 minutes. more or less. This: 40 minutes, more or less.

Ecstatic Pop Delirium Overload Dept.

Boz socially distancing himself, yesterday.

Sometimes, if you let it, a pop record just makes you feel stupidly great. You don't think about it, analyze it, parse it, deconstruct it, justify it, grade it, compare it, form an opinion about it ... you just let it do its work, what it was made to do. Turn it up, turn it up, give me the beat boys and free my soul ... 

Boz Scaggs knew exactly what he was doing when he cut this - singing for chicks. You have to leave all the stuff guys cherish most behind - irony, cleverness, virtuosity (or incompetence) for its own sake, meta-reference ... all that gnarly grist ... and sing from the fucking heart. Sing songs that make you want to strut onto the dancefloor or swoon into your lover's arms. Boz is not the world's greatest singer, but we can forgive him because there's not a note here he doesn't mean and feel, that isn't real. It's worth remembering that he wrote (or co-wrote, with the mighty David Paich) all except one of the songs on Silk Degrees. For an album that sounds like a greatest hits collection, that's some achievement.

In these shit times, it's good to let the pop delirium sweep you up and away for a while. Right now Georgia is blasting out, and the ecstatic high of "Georgia, we will be together dear ..." lifts me to my feet. Nobody's looking - I do some dumb dance moves, make with the air mic stand, and if only for a moment the shit times are good again.

Feeling good is what we do best - let's not lose the skill.

Great Classics Of Literature Out Th' Ass Dept. - Weirdo Wrap-Up!

"Why won't dames fuck me?"

R. Crumb. Would you want that for a name? How would it have affected you? Is fate - destiny, if you will - somehow linked to identity through this magical talisman we call a name? What is in a name? Letters, mostly. Letters of the alphabet, yet! The whole thing beats me. I ain't got no answers. Quit pesterin' me wit' yer dumb-ass questions awready.

Today's Cornucopia of Questionable Comics bundles up the remaining issues of Weirdo, taking you up to 28, when production was interrupted by Crumb's controversial tenure with the Girl Scouts Of America - a period shrouded in mystery to this day, and one he's unwilling to talk about. "I'm unwilling to talk about that period," he says, "it's shrouded in mystery to this day."

These swell publications have been hand-rendered into a modern "digital" format. Say yes to NO page yellowing! NO loss of investment! NO inky residue! NO color fade! NO chalky aftertaste!


This post made possible through the patronage of The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation© and Manny's Franks N' Fries (Yonkers, N.Y.) ©

Buyer's Remorse Dept. - Ike Godsey Hosts!

"Look into my eyes ..."

Ike Godsey learned his acting skills at Lee Strasberg's famous Method Acting Correspondence School ("There's Method In Our Madness!"), having seen the ad in a Teenage Tidiness Patrol comic. You know him as Grandpa Grumby in T.V.'s long-running Cowsill Island, but did you know his dependence issues with vintage vinyl left him destitute?

FMF©: Thanks for dropping by, Ike!
IG: It's a pleasure to be able to ignore the coronavirus curfew, Farq!
FMF©: So - how did you get the name Ike?
IG: It's short for Ikuhar, which is Pennsylvania Dutch for "attractive horse wrestler."
FMF©: And you've brung a couple of albums?

IG: Surely do! I'm always buying shit albums. In fact, I buy shit albums exclusively. So I just picked a couple at random. First up is, what the fuck, oh - The Sidewinders. Seminal power-pop from 1972. Great line-up - Andy Paley! Lenny Kaye producing - what could go wrong? I dunno. It's okay, I guess. Rendezvous is pretty good. I don't play it. You want it?
FMF©: How much?
IG: Buck fifty? Buck and a half?
FMF©: Nah. I'll pass. What else?

IG: This looked like the business. The World Of Good And Plenty. I don't think that was their real names, though. It's kind of charming, I guess. Dippy hippy shit. Tell ya what. Two bucks the two? I need the bus fare.
FMF©: Why, that's some nerve you got there, Ike Godsey! You know how many hits this piece will get? Even if you wear a bikini, it'll struggle to get into single figures. Lan' sakes! Nobody gives a shit about this shit! Here - take your two lousy bucks. Do me a favor - keep the albums. An' get outta here! G'wan! Scram!

Da Boids Is Da Woid Part The This One - Again

Ballad Of Easy Rider did much better than Dr. Byrds - almost anything did - piggy-backing the astonishing success of the movie. Luckily the album was a consistently good effort, although suffering from a dearth of site-specific compositions. Jim-Roger turned in his regulation song, being preoccupied with his *cough* country-rock adaptation of Peer Gynt. Right. Mm.

Thirty tracks in this "complete" edition, including five versions of the title song, from the one minute and thirty-nine second (!!) single version to Terry Melcher's extended disco twelve-inch mix, stretched to an epic 2:30. It just occurred to me that Gunga Din could be a pun on can't get in? The song's about - more or less - not being allowed into a swank resty-rant on account of wearin' a leather jacket. John York quit after this, but I don't think anyone actually grabbed for his ankles on his way out.

And - completely free of charge - this swell alternate cover what I done did, using Jim-Roger's original title. It's a tough brief - there are two strong brands at work here (the original cover sidesteps the issue entirely, which is why it's so anonymous). Using images of either the band or the movie actors is unrepresentative, so that iconic bike gets the spotlight, but doesn't diminish the force of the original and magnificent Byrds logo. I know they'd consciously distanced themselves from it by that point, and I don't care.

Covid Cuties Quarantine Club!

These can-do cuties had a swell idea! If you gotta self-isolate, self-isolate together! Why - the more the merrier! "It's a sisterhood thing?" up-spoke systems analyst Chelsee (19) yesterday from the deck of the False Memory Foam© yacht, moored for hygiene reasons in th' House O'Foam© pool. "We were like, a community quarantine deal means strength in numbers, right?"

"Yeah!" chimed in tree surgeon Sydnee (21). "So when Doctor Throckmorton suggested we, like, self-isolate on his yacht, we were like, OMG! How safe is that?!"

"And he gives us regular check-ups," added Unix code writer Tyson-Caireaux (18). "He's, like, really thorough?"

Curfew? Cor, phew, more like! Pandemic? More like tandemic! Move over, gals, we're comin' aboard!

The leggy lovelies' soundtrack of choice as they wait out the pandemic? Why, it's country rock pioneers Hearts And Flowers! Back in '67, when Tim Schmit was groovin' pop-psych with Glad, fellow fledgling Eagle Bernie Leadon was pluckin' th' banjolele with these guys. Here's their three albums - what's that you say? They only cut two? Geddouddahere!!

Practice Social Distancing With Cody!

Cody sez: "Cheez Whiz! It's natural!"

I am pleased to announce the return of Cody to Th' House O' Foam©! The technical expertise, leadership and mentoring skills, academic rigor and intuitive wisdom which she brought to the table have been much-missed. Her presence more than compensates for a culture of toxic masculinity and will, I hope, encourage other dames out there to join the conversation and change the narrative!

Today, Cody has chosen to speak about the timely issue of Social Distancing! Cody?

"Social Distancing? Are you kidding? I already spent, like, my young life distancing myself socially from skeevy old-timers like you! Doesn't take a pandemic for me to avoid you like the plague! I'm, like, ew? Dream on, Grandpa, and keep your hairy old hands to yourself!"

That's great news, Cody, and valuable information, too!

Sunday is a swell time to distance yourself socially with some E-Z listenin' tuneage. Today we gots Urubamba, which is like Mexican music or something from Spain [Peru, you doofus - Ed.]. These guys used to make tourist music under the name of Los Incas until Paul Simon culturally appropriated them. Gorgeous, gorgeous music.

Deolinda is a swell happy-fado disc from Argentina [Portugal, FFS - Ed.] you can play from your balcony to th' empty boulevard below! Happy Social Distancing!

Sit Down! It's Cowsillmania!

The Cowsills was a long-running T.V. show, featuring the everyday adventures of an extended family living in a one-room country shack on Cowsill Mountain, LA. Mom Olivia (played by Shirley Jones, MILF) and Pop John (Dennis Hopper) dispensed homespun wisdom to their adorable "tribe": John-Boy, Jim-Bob, Bob-Boy, Jim-Roger, Ethyl and Regular, Corabeth and Marybeth and a cast of characters that plucked at your heartstrings while tickling your funny-bone!

But did you know they also recorded several best-selling albums?! And that John-Boy, played by teen heartthrob David Cassidy, went on to be a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and play drums for the touring Beach Boys?!

Today's bursting-with-family-values package offers a representative overview of this happy heartlands combo!

Captain Sad is their concept album, and as relevant today as it was back then.

On My Side is their country rock album recorded in '71 after they ritually incinerated their love beads. The cover shot was taken at ToastWorld©, and shows the band posing in front of the world's largest slice of toast!

Cocaine Drain is ... gee .. WTF? This isn't even at Discogs ... they were clearly out of their freaking minds ...

EDIT: This is a fantastic album, and deserves a proper, sonically cleaned-up release.

And you also get, at no extra charge, Billy-Bob Cowsill's throat-slashingly rare solo album from 1970, Nervous Breakthrough. Why? I'll tell ya for why, ya cheap chiseler! Because we go the extra mile here at Th' House O'Foam© to ensure that you, Mr. Four Or Five Guy, gets the entertainment value you've come to expect, ya freeloadin' bum! G'wan! Grab 'em an' scram before I change my mind!

(A spin o' th' propeller beanie to Lupine Assassin and Tremolo)

Great Classics Of Literature Out Th' Ass Dept. - Weirdo

R. Crumb stayed faithful to the edgy nature of the original underground comix with his willfully anti-intellectual Weirdo. As he wrote in his hand-penned editorial to the first issue - "we must be on guard against being too arty..."

He needn't have worried. Finding an audience that Arcade, with its higher budget and loftier aspirations, failed to reach, Weirdo ran for twenty-eight issues, some going into second printings.

Here's the first ten - a swell addition to the FalseMemoryFoam© Library Of Books! Yes, friends, these precious volumes, lovingly comb-bound into convenient pdf format, are heirloom pieces you can pass down to your kids, if they're nogood preverts like you.

(Note: tagging and comb-binding these babies is a chore - they're scanned from different sources and I get bored easy these days - so the remaining issues will be made available at a later date. Quit yer whinin' awready).

Son Of The Kurse Of The Kaftan

Spot the Satanists!

Apparently, Glad weren't too glad about Erik Wangberg's (me neither) production of their lone ABC album. But we needn't share their concerns, as artistically rigorous as they no doubt were. We can now treasure the bells and whistles the band kicked against as being deliriously typical of late 'sixties psych-pop.

Flower Power was starting to wilt by the time of its '68 release - the cover shot, as well as the production, would have been fresh as daisies six months earlier. The album didn't sell, so the band split two ways - Timothy B. Schmit went to Poco, and later The Eagles (me neither), and the remaining Glads incinerated the glad rags and changed their name to Redwing, recording a fine country rock album For Fantasy in '71.

Brown is the new Day-Glo

They cut another five albums before quitting the music business to establish Canada's first kelp processing plant in Banff, where they still live today, selling scrimshaw from a yurt made of dried kelp briquettes. In 1984, they featured in Freshwater Kelp - Canada's Hidden Resource, a National Film Board Of Canada production. Their performance of The Kelp Song won them the coveted National Film Board Of Canada Award For Best Song About Brown Algae that year.

(This post made possible through the financial support of Smart Art's Art Mart, Unguent, WIS. )

Just When You Thought It Couldn't Get Any Worse Dept.

This Just In Dept.

In a House O'Foam© exclusive, Lt. Columbo talks us through the sensational arrest of billionaire rock star, vaginal douche consultant, black jazz musician and climate change activist Sting.

FMF©: I have to thank you for getting me off the hook.
Lt.C: Ah, I knew it wasn't you, sir.
FMF©: But my alibi seemed so flimsy, almost unbelievable.
Lt.C: Only a complete moron would have made up that Whack-A-Mole story. And you, sir, are not a complete moron.
FMF©: [simpers] Why, thank you, Officer! But what put you on the trail of the killer?
Lt.C: [scratches forehead with cigar hand] I thought I remembered something about Engelbert Humperdinck. I'm like that. I get a bee in my bonnet ... my wife is a great fan of Engelbert, and ... where was I? Oh yeah ... I hung around the blog for a while, and I stumbled over this quote, from October 16 last year -

Click to enlarge, duh.

It's from your interview with Sting. And it got me to thinking. Mrs. Nussbaum was playing an Engelbert CD at the time of her murder.
FMF©: Wow! But what about my Whack-A-Mole machine that turned up in Ed's dumpster?
Lt.C: After killing Mrs. Nussbaum, Sting stole your Whack-A-Mole, believing it to be a cure for moles - facial moles? He wanted to market his own version on his health and wellness web site. Sting-A-Mole, I think he was going to call it. My wife now, sir, she has these facial disfig-
FMF©: [cutting in] I know Ed's relieved.
Lt.C: Sting couldn't get the machine in the trunk of his Prius, and offered it to Ed.
FMF©: It's all so simple! But what happened to Jessica Fletcher? I thought she was on the case?
Lt.C: Sir, I believe she and that young lady, what's her name ... Co ... ?
FMF©: Cody?
Lt.C: Right. Cody. Well sir, I heard they got married last week.

[FX: FT3 FAINTS, FALLS HEAVILY TO FLOOR]

Hot Damn! It's Hurleyballoo!

Michael Hurley relaxes poolside, yesterday

Michael Hurley is well-known among the cognoscenti [gear-shaped pasta - Ed.] of back porch music. His music is like the creaking of an old timber house on a hot night, or chickens scratching in the dust. And his lyrics come from somewhere off the track, up in the hills, where even aliens won't land their flying saucers for fear of being abducted. Outsider musicians got together and decided not to let him in; he just didn't conform to the accepted norms of eccentricity.

Anyhoo, we gots five of his albums today; Armchair Boogie, Back Home With Drifting Woods, First Songs, Have Moicy, and Hi-Fi Snock Uptown.

What's that you say? My favorite? Well, I guess it's Have Moicy, recorded with fellow jimson weed enthusiasts the (Un)Holy Modal Rounders and Jeffrey Frederick and The Clamtones. A gonzo goof-off masterclass, this never fails to make me snork my suds. Life is short, art is long!

Apology: I've just been informed that our picture shows Elizabeth, not Michael Hurley! Oh brother! Is my face ever red!

Covid Cuties Strip For Science! - FMF© Report

Did you know that deadly virus germs lurk in clothes an' laundry an' stuff? Kandace and Kourtney Veeblefetzer, of Trucknuts, AR, sure do! "I'm like, ew?" Kandace (22, Wellness Consultant) up-spoke yesterday. Sister Kourtney (19, Marine Biologist) agrees: "We're bringing awareness of the global pandemic to people who otherwise might not have heard of it."

Every little bit helps, gals! FMF© applauds these Sisters of Science in their Crusade For Cleanliness! In honor of their bold initiative, boosting page hits to a pandemic level, we'll be posting some old country rock album (probably) in the comments later! BRB!

Da Boids Is Da Woid - Part Th' ... Uh ...

Art: FMF© Art Department Dept.

Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde, right? After Sweetheart tanked in the racks and on tour, Jim-Roger McGuinn just upped and left the band, taking the name with him. Either that or he fired everyone - who cares? But he leaped back into the studios before he'd worked up enough material for an album, and that's the real problem with Dr. Byrds, not is it a real Byrds album? (it says "Byrds" on the cover, it's a Byrds album).

That track list in full: a Dylan song he didn't write, a trad. arr. he didn't write, a song he didn't write, a song he co-wrote for another project, another song he didn't write, a new song he wrote, another song he co-wrote for another project. Intuitively sensing the album was going to run short, he cobbled together a Hail Mary medley (*shudder*) - another Dylan song he didn't write, a song he co-wrote, and a Jerry Reed song he didn't write.

Spot the odd one out? Jim-Roger, having cunningly ousted the two finest songwriters in the band, penned one song for this album, and sang lead on all of them. The album tanked harder than Sweetheart. It tanked so hard even seismographs at the North Pole registered the impact.

This is an "acetate" version recorded - it says here - "at initial recording sessions at Columbia Studios in Nashville (and dated October 16, 1968, before the band began further sessions in Nashville on 10/28/68)".

Well, maybe, but I have a couple of problems with this. One is that it doesn't sound like an acetate. All the acetates I've heard, even after de-clicking, have that metallic, hissy sound that comes from the source (a metal plate, duh). All of 'em. Not one of them sounds like this, clean and deep. So there's that, but even more importantly, the version available online (not any longer - the blog, by a self-professed Byrds "expert", was made private so people couldn't point out his mistakes) is a semi-tone too low. You'd think this had been noticed - especially by Byrds "experts" - a semi-tone step is apparent to anyone with ears. I fed it into Audacity and raised the pitch of each track to match the released album, so it doesn't sound like Black Sabbath anymore. That doom metal version is still out there, but here's the only place you'll get the recording sounding like it should. The medley is missing, confirming the theory that it was filler to pad out the woefully brief groove time.

I'll leave you to discover the differences - there are enough to make it essential to the Byrdmaniac - and enjoy the sound. Whatever the provenance, I prefer it to the released album, and you might too.

Girl In Bikini Answers Your Top Ten Covid Questions!

Girl in bikini, yesterday.

1: Yes.
2: No.
3: Yes.
4: No (beware of misinformation on this point!)
5: Maybe.
6: For, like, ever.
7: Two metres.
8: Not on the first date.
9: At your age? Are you kidding?
10: I give the House O' Foam©, and its handsome proprietor, Farquhar Throckmorton III, a thorough wipe down with a damp cloth on a daily basis. There is virtually no risk in visiting, and most downloads are guaranteed to be more or less entirely clear of the virus that's brought the rest of the world to its knees. So relax, sit back, and enjoy today's upcoming Foam Features©!

Shufflin' Off To Buffalo

Watching the sun come up over the Mekong this morning, throwing biscuits to the dogs, a mug of instant java and Norton Buffalo on th' Victrola. Fine way to start the day. I bought Lovin' In Th' Valley O' Th' Moon' back in '77 or whenever on the strength of the cover - it's a masterpiece, but I can't find the artist among the lengthy credits at Discogs.

If you were around at the time, you'll recognize the blissed-out, shimmering sound. It sits happily with Nesmith's Radio Engine, Cocker's Luxury ... touch of reggae, touch of the Bahamas. Not that Buffalo can sing like either, but he out-harps just about everybody.

Fast forward to 2000. King O' Th' Highway showcases the bar band of your dreams. The stripped down hot-rod sound makes the perfect soundtrack for panic-buying alcohol!

(Art n' Design Note: They made two attempts at incorporating the swell cover painting, failing twice)

Phillip Jackson (for it is he) crammed a shitload of swell music into his skinny fifty-eight years, and is well worth a wiki dig. The great man shuffled off this mortal coil in 2009, in Paradise. Yeah!

(This post made possible through the auspices and generosity of The Tremolo Archive Project)

Metallic Pastry Week At Th' House O' Foam© Part Deux

Sudge handsomeness!

This may have slipped you by while you were off learning skills at a Federal correctional facility or holing up in th' old abandoned grain silo. It's Th' Dan on T.V.! Only without the picture. So it's more like radio. Which is like watching T.V. with your eyes closed ("the pictures are better"). Turn the sound way down and pretend it's the neighbors' T.V. for added realism! Bang on the wall with your fists, screaming turn it down you goddam hippie motherfuckers! and wait for th' po-lice to arrive!

LAUGH as thy wisecrack their way through questions from the audience! WEEP with nostalgia as they play their top ten hits live in the studio! Hoo boy!

Plus also too - at no extra charge - just a dollar - this swell fake [English for faux - Ed.] album cover, ideal for scrap-booking or cat litter!

(This post made possible by funding from the North American Veeblefetzer Corp.®)

Pia Zadora's Magic Box!

One of the most popular features featured here at Th' House O' Foam© is the long-running feature Pia Zadora's Magic Box! feature! Yessiree Bob, it seems the th' Four Or Five Guys® can't get enough of the game sensation that's sweeping the nation!

The rules? Why, they're simplicity itself! Diminutive dynamo Pia has a "Magic Box" [at right - Ed.], and you - that's John Q. Contestant from Anytown, U.S.A. - has to guess what's inside! The contestant guessing the correct answer wins the key to her Magic Box!

(Artist's impression)

Some fun, huh kids? Who's going to be first up as Ms. Zadora asks the musical question - What's In My Box, Boys?

Today's whispered clue is - it's an album - once again for those of you on drugs - I-T'-S  A-N  A-L-B-U-M - but which? Is it Wings At The Speed Of Sound? Or perhaps Il Assassino by Adrian Gurvitz? [No - Ed.] Remember - you can have as many tries as you want! Hoo boy!

(Psst! Try Kentucky Gambler, by Robey, Falk, & Bod!)