Mission Statement: to do very little, for very few, for not very long. Disappointing the easily pleased since 1819. Not as good as it used to be from Day One. History is Bunk - PT Barnum. Artificially Intelligent before it was fashionable. Fat camp for the mind! Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost. The Shock of the Old! Often bettered, never imitated.
This here is a swell album, made up of some tracks from here, some from there, like many 'fifties jazz albums. Hall O' Foamer© Jimmy Giuffre is on board, and whether your day of rest be spent painting the picket fence, sinking a brewski with the guys at the bait shop, or simply [wait for it ... Ed.] molesting mental patients during a private tour, let Chet be your soundtrack bet!
To make everything that little bit worse for the poor slob, he can't even get up his back passage! "Some bums filled it wit' garbage! P.U.!"
But some bum clearly threw out a much-treasured record album by mistake, as well also too! Can you spot it, subscribers? Remember! Don't name album or artiste(s) in comments! Favorably impress family, confreres, parole board by leaving smart-type clue! Hoo boy! This is swell fun!
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In brief, Morrison recorded all the tracks, but Warners nixed a double, because double studio albums weren't their thing, apparently. So he trimmed it back, no doubt with his trademark good humor, and inevitably something was lost in the process, in addition to the songs.
At the time of release Hard Nose was seen as a step back from the tour de force [Fr. Tower Of Power - Ed.] of St. Dominic's Preview. It feels disjointed, lacking cohesion, confused, perhaps over-ambitious. The bafflingly opaque title didn't help, nor did the Moody Blues-style cover art.
For all its guesswork, Warm Love, retitled and repackaged to a simple commercial formula that would have served it better (check how it fits the chronological discography), is truer to the artist's original vision, and a better album. It restores pacing and breadth. Morrison knew how to build an album (and a show), and the entire double album is now a smooth listen, with satisfying dynamics. There's also an underlying narrative, but this is probably my own fanciful interpretation (we'll never know). The album moves through the bitterness of Drumshanbo Hustle (hint - read the contract before you sign it, ya dumb fuck) and The Great Deception, through the healing power of love (title track, Lover's Prayer, and others), and resolves in a mystical communion with nature (Purple Heather, Snow In San Anselmo, Autumn Song). If anyone can pull that off, it's Van Morrison.
The tracks have been tagged so you can see how it would have worked - perfectly - as a double vinyl. And a note about Bein' Green. Morrison wasn't the only one to recognise a great song - Frank Sinatra recorded it, too. Green like naive, easily duped. Morrison's singing here is never bettered, his phrasing astonishing, and the big band arrangement - I think mostly Morrison's work - is sublime. It kicks Sinatra's version to the curb.
So here it is. An album that stands with his very best, continuing a seamless run of artistic brilliance that was to culminate with the following year's Veedon Fleece. Given Mr. Morrison's festering resentment at the way his life has been ruined by evil record companies, he's unlikely to go back and do this himself, so it behooves us to do it for him. Because he used to be great. This great.
This one's for Lodestone Of Wrongness, who whines he can never find the hidden link, so it's especially easy, especially for him, th' lazy-assed bum.
FT3 Hey! Hans! They gave you a pitchfork already!
HRG [laughs] Yes, I'm pretty much in charge down here!
FT3 What's hell actually like?
HRG Well, it's better than Switzerland! It's honest. No filthy, rotting secrets hidden under a blanket of snow. And I have to say the place looks like it should after I redesigned it. That Hieronymous Bosch look was so passé!
FT3 You have some albums for us?
HRG Surely! They're later, solo albums from Tommy Roe, Andy Kim, Ron Dante ... you don't see these so much, a change from the usual Kassenatz-Katz material.
FT3 You play these over the Tannoy down there, Hans?
HRG Heck, no! They get yodeling, and alpenhorn, traditional Swiss accordian folk songs. Mostly yodeling. For eternity! [laughs] Hey - got to let you go, Farq - busload of Chinese just came in. Always a laugh to see their reaction!
Ron Dante appears thru th' auspices of JCC, to whom our thanks!
Uh-oh! Some comedian has stowed away on Ed's coracle! Can you see who it is, subscribers? [I'd like to add, parenthetically, that I find this demeaning. I have a Master's Degree in English Literature & Accordian Repair, and my potential remains unrealised - Ed.] Name that rascal, and WIN WIN WIN a sumptuous legacy recording of the first episode of his TV show suitable for screening on the hand-held device of your choice! Hoo boy!
Every Four Or Five Guy© hears it at some point. The anguished screech of "Lan' sakes! Whut is dis shit!?" from his main twist as he cues up a Beefheart elpee on th' den Victrola. Leave us face it, dolls don't get Beefheart and never will. It's their only failing, you ask me. So I tasked Kreemé [19 my ass - Ed.], th' Isle O' Foam©'s talented Diversity Issues Outreach Officer with a project that would test her feminine skills to the limit - to curate a frail-friendly Beefheart album, one what a guy such as I could confidently pitch woo to.
After long and hard work, and many oversight and transparency meetings in the Conversation Pit O' Sound™, she succeeded in creating a swell long-playing record suitable for any tomato to leave her fingerprints all over and lose the inner sleeve of. Sure, it's short, but if your broad's not ready to be flipped over by the time you flip the album over then brother, check your deodorant!
So - whether your Sunday be spent working on that tree house for the kids, playing parchesi with the neighbors, or simply [wait for it - Ed.] masturbating caged animals at a private zoo - let these swell Sunday Sounds enhance the mood!
I picked this up on vinyl way back when, because Louis Argese's Catskills cocktail lounge look altered my brain. That, and song titles like Flite Of The Tick Bird, Tube Along With Me, Garbage, screamed BUY THIS ALBUM! It was not a regret purchase. The few descriptions you'll find of this fall over themselves to place it in a genre. There's a light-n'-crispy deep-pan rock base with a zesty jazz topping, and ... well, it's melodic, adventurous, fun, beautifully sung ... I give up. It's delicious.
"Born in Brooklyn ... lived in Totowa for most of his life ... Musician, Piano Player, Partner in Bioya Recording Studios, Paterson, NJ. ... played with many famous artists and traveled around the world in his career ... wrote music for movie soundtracks, radio and T.V. Commercials and T.V. Movies ... wrote CD Albums for different artists and was also a music director for Our Father's Music Business."
And this from a PR release for the Plant The Seed album (me neither):
"An exhilarating musician who has been playing music since age 11. By the age of 18 Louis was on the road playing with greats like Johnny Mathis, Connie Francis and Sammy Davis, Jr., and amongst the artists he has recorded and arranged for are Jay and the Americans, Tommy James and Frankie Valli. Louis has also played on theme music sessions for HBO."
This one's for you, Lou!
Y'know, pals, I am often enquired of by broads such as like, stewardesses, stenographers and other professional babes in need of husband-type guys, just what is it that makes the Four Or Five Guy© so different, so appealing? Above photograph [above - Ed.], taken yesterday in private dwelling-place of random Four Or Five Guy©, will go some way to assuaging their feminine curiosity!
Leave us enumberate just several of your desirous qualities:
😎 Respect for tomatoes, dames in general
😎 Knowledge of the Arts, and also the Music
😎 Sophisticated-type lifestyle
😎 Suaveity of apparel
😎 Keen interest in current events, such as sports
😎 Swellness of table manners, society etiquette, shit like that
😎 Sensitive to broads' needs in modern age
😎 Daily hygiene regime most days
😎 Awareness of healthy diet, exercise theory
😎 Immediate availability
Gals! If you been waiting in vain for Mr. Goodbar, he's waiting for you on th' Isle O' Foam©! Simply send show reel, vital statistics and ten dollars application fee to Farquhar Throckmorton III!
And here's what professional herbsman and rooster jockey Kwai Chang has to say; "Polyesteryear! Sears-Roebuck(?) sold Johnny Miller Sand Knits for a
more comfortable 18-hole trek to the clubhouse. I think they were
permanently creased and possibly even higher cut in the waste line for
anti-hernia swing confidence. Try getting into a Masonic Lodge wearing
those babies! Nothing says 'bachelor' like the ficus tree with the braided main stem!"
N-SV What's his name again?
FT3 Bennie Maupin
N-SV [makes sour face] He's, like, a singer?
FT3 Okayyyy! We're done here! [tape ends]
Back to Bennie. Today's showy blooms plucked from the dewy garden of music are these here swell albums by Monsieur Maupin:
But here's the icing on the groatcake - included as a bonus giveaway supplement at no extra cost, you cheap grifter you, is the booklet to the Master Sound CD release of Bozos, written by the Firesigns, which goes a long way to supplying the missing chapter to the book, although it doesn't include a transcript. This I know I got from Ed Fray at notveryprettymusic, because he helpfully watermarked the scans, so big manly hugs of gratitude to Ed! Okay, Ed! Enough with the manly hugs already! Down boy! SECURITY!!
But what's that? Why, somebody threw a much-cherished long-playing record out by mistake! Can you see it, subscribers? Do you know what it is? If you can and do, leave a smart hint in the comments for the monobrowed dumbasses without clue one! Don't name the artiste(s) or the album title! A hint! Like a clue! Oboy! Are we having fun yet?!
This is a swell "live" recording of the Grateful Deads group performing a special "in concert" appearance for lucky pop music fans at a Fillmore West in 1968. Luckily, an electrician was on hand with a microphone to capture this famed rock n' roll combo as they treat the audience to up-tempo renditions of their big hits! You can bet "the joint was rockin'"!
Enjoy the experience of a lively "rock" music concert in the comfort of your own home with this very special recording!
This post made possible through the auspices of millionaire philanthropist jcc, to whom we extend our cordial gratitude!
"Some of them stupider folks up in the hills tried eating their daughter and selling the mule, but them movieland types wasn't interested. Except David Geffen. He bought a bunch of mules. And acourse we Lunches wasn't blessed with no daughter. It was when we wus down to boiling th' hooves that Michael makes up his mind to be a country rock musician. Well, acourse Pa and me just laughed! Pa says, what you going to call yerself, son? Lunch ain't no handle for a music-type star! And Michael looks up at him, and I'll never forget this, he says, I'll call myself Michael Dinner, on account its swank society tone."
Thanks to Monty'smusic for swimming across the Pacific with the Tom Thumb album clenched in his teeth!
Whether your Sabbath be spent pruning the topiary, attending to your stamp collection, or simply [wait for it - Ed.] rimming an amputee in the local morgue, let Lalo n' Dizzy lend it a swing!
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| Walsh (center, stage table) plays Hotel California solo. "They made me do it." (click for bigly) |
What does Joe Walsh think? "They tell me I played at this United Nations thing. There's this photo they took, so I guess I did. Our best album? Uh ... that would be Desperado, I guess. What? Oh - here's my limo, man. You take care."
To discover the surprising result of the Committee's work, look in the comments. Or, you know, do something else entirely.
The following is edited down from
REMEMBERING LAURIE STYVERS
©David Pearson for Shindig Magazine
In the late 1960s Laurette Stivers was a student at the American School in London. Born in Texas in 1951, Laurette would make frequent trips to London, as her dad was in the oil business and his company had a head office there. In 1968 she was living in Hampstead and already writing songs. She responded to an ad in the press looking for a female vocalist for a group called Justine. [After making the album] she continued a personal and professional relationship with [producer Hugh] Murphy, and the two of them set to work on an album of songs she had written.
Hugh shared a flat with American producer Shel Talmy, and through him secured a deal for Ms Stivers with Chrysalis Records. The result was Spilt Milk, released in 1972. Laurie was very pleased with the final album, but felt, as Leigh Stevenson puts it, that “it was a learning curve and she wanted to improve. She was never that interested in fame – what was important to her was simply making a living out of doing what she loved, getting her feelings out and expressing them through her songs."
Laurie received some solid promotion in the music press but the album did not sell particularly well. She returned to the USA and began her studies at the University of Denver. She divided her time between visiting Hugh and going off on camping trips in the mountains she loved so much
The deal with Chrysalis continued and in 1973 came her second album The Colorado Kid, again produced by Hugh Murphy. Laurie felt it was more satisfying artistically than the first: by now Hugh was working with her on the music and lyrics. Heavenly Band was about Little Brown’s Electric Band. They came from Colorado and Laurie worked with them off and on for a number of years. They often opened concerts by some big name singers and groups. Band member and noted bass guitarist Spencer Pyne recalls that “Laurie was really inspired by Colorado, and the time she spent there was a learning experience. She wrote most of the songs for the second album while living in Denver and playing with LBEB.”
The band had hoped that Laurie’s deal with Chrysalis would be their ticket to fame but Hugh Murphy insisted on using studio musicians. But once more sales were poor and Chrysalis lost interest. Laurie herself was very disappointed in sales but also seemed disappointed in the album itself. Spencer Pyne recalls that “she wanted to make music more like the British band Renaissance, and that the album was too pop and didn’t have much sophistication.”
Laurie returned to the USA, and began to take her university studies more seriously. She studied meteorology, telling Leigh Stevenson that she wanted to be “a singing weather girl”. She maintained sporadic contact with LBEB. She was always hopeful of another record deal and in the late 70s approached Spencer to see if he could stimulate some interest in her. However the late disco-obsessed 70s were not suited to her songwriting style and so nothing came of it. She ended up back in Huntsville, Texas, where she had a house near her parents and a dog named Teddy. She was going to start a kennel business with her dad’s help. She took up stained glass- making. The final years were tough, characterised by ongoing health problems and hospitalisation. Her body eventually gave up on her and she died in 1997.
As Leigh Stevenson puts it, “most of her songs were about relationships, unfaithfulness, her own shortcomings and short attention span with men. Some were about drugs and creativity.” Running through both albums are strong melody lines and thoughtful lyrics that would chime well with the singer/songwriter genre that was emerging in the early 70s.
In the over forty-five years that have passed, neither album has ever been reissued, nor made available on CD. Both deserve to be rediscovered, and Laurie herself deserves to be remembered for two fine albums of which she could feel justifiably proud. Spencer Pyne remembers her with sadness but great affection: “Laurie was a real romantic and she wrote her songs from the heart. She seemed to me to be always looking for something or someone, and I don’t think she ever really succeeded in finding them. She was sad and melancholy much of the time. She was not a very confident person. She was trying to figure everything out just like we all were in our early 20s.”
If you can add anything at all to the scant internet knowledge about the Colorado Kid, leave a comment.
Ahmagahd! Some visiting aliens have, like, totally blocked Barbarella's back passage with space debris! I'm. like, ew! So snap on those latex gloves and grab that album they threw out by mistake!
If you recognise the long-playing record by the tiny edge showing in the trash, leave a clever clue comment to help the dumbass Three Or Four Guys© without your supernatural powers of vision and encyclopedic knowledge of old album sleeves! It's not rocket science!
Movie stars making rock records? Include us out, right? Steven Seagal? Bruce Willis? So you might ignore Billy Bob Thornton's albums, should you stumble across them in the seedy emporia you frequent. File under: vanity projects by would-be rock stars buying studio time. Except that Billy Bob is the real deal.
Discogs has the skinny.
