Sunday, April 12, 2015

A REAL BOSS ROCK 'N' ROLL SHOW I ATTENDED LAST TUESDAY EVENING!-I'm talkin' about the Moody Blues at Akron's B. J. Thomas (hah!) Hall, and boy was that one a proverbial mofo as they say!!! The Moodies started off with this high energy rocker called "Once Upon a Time" which was highly reminiscent of the Stooges back when Iggy slipped into a heavy duty smack jones and began smelling like that dog poop that I mistakenly ran over with the lawn mower and splattered all over the place. Total annihilation. Then they roared into an old favorite entitled "Tuesday Afternoon" that sounded just like the Seeds back around the time they were recording "Up In Her Room". After that came a whole string of numbers that really hearkened back to those crazy days of sixties decadence like "Nights in White Satin" (a dead ringer for the Flamin' Groovies), "Melancholy Man" (a resensifier if there ever was one!!!) and "Ride My See Saw", which a few fanablas out there say is a direct swipe from the Deviants' "I'm Coming Home". The show ended in a wild orgasmic free form freakout that really turned crazy when the gal flute player got nekkid and started dancing to the primal rock 'n' roll beat of it all!

In actuality it was a typical baby boomer money grabber that I attended only because my cyst-er got some free tickets for pledging to the local PBS station (we got the PBS seats way up high and I got a spontaneous [translation-no picking] nosebleed to prove it). And, needless to say, I was bored silly by it all. Well, it was kinda fun (if not a little sickening) watching all of the old leftovers standing up and applauding or holding their arms up while yelling "THANK YOU!" as if this were some sort of tent revival meeting. The only song I really liked was "The Story in Your Eyes" which wasn't any "Go Now", but better than the rest, even that psychedelic one about the butterflies flying all over the place. I couldn't sleep too well that night, though that may be because of the Mexican dinner I engaged in at some chi-chi yuppie eatery prior to the performance. I also told cyst that next time she pledged she should just take the Julia Childs cookbook and be done with it.
As  for what else I've been doing this week, I must admit that I've been spending a more than inordinate amount of time on's NATIONAL LAMPOON site gathering up a whole slew of past issues for our modern-day perusal and guffaws for that matter. It's sure swell to see someone put these classic magazines up for the reading (and nothing but!), and of course it's sure boffo eyeballing alla those great comics like DIRTY DUCK and even some of the NUTS that didn't make it into book form considering just how downright goodie they can be. And of course the bad taste for bad taste's sake attitude is sure refreshing just like those old Bangs and Meltzer (not to forget TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE) pieces are here in the beyond cyborg and Nazified 'teens. If you want to know where I got at least some of my powers, look no further than here. Personal fave story espied so far..."All In De Fambly" which is, as they say, guaranteed to offend (the people who deserve to be offended, that is!).
The recent death of STAN FREBERG did affect me a certain way, maybe in a way where its' finally sinking into my thick skull that it's now 2015 and all of those child/teen-hood fave types who made the fifties and sixties so funtime are now passing on into eternity, perhaps taking along with the entertainment they had created with them. Of course I didn't even know who Freberg was until the early-seventies when I picked up a copy of INSIDE MAD and read the guy's "backword", and the discovery of A CHILD'S GARDEN OF FREBERG being advertised in the back pages of HELP! had me begging my mother to snatch up a copy for Christmas which was an impossibility since by this time the platter had been out of print for over fifteen years. (But don't worry, I found a nice mint copy of it a good decade later and I even reviewed it in the fifth issue of my very own crudzine!). But whatever, I kept an eye out for Freberg even though I did NOT realize at the time that all of those crazy commercials I saw on tee-vee (Ann Miller's GREAT AMERICAN SOUPS, the Shakey's Pizza one which had a Col. Sanders lookalike downing a slice which earned that now-deep sixed chain a nice lawsuit from the KFC head honcho...) were Freberg creations so it was like I was enjoying the guy for years without even knowing who he was!

If I could, I would photoshop the pic to make Freberg read an
old issue of BLACK TO COMM. But I can't, and come
to think of it he wouldn't.
Of course over the years I began spotting a whole load of boffo Freberg platters (as well as a cassette at a local supermarket!) and scarfed 'em up like potrzebie! In an age of unfunniness as the norm these spinners were the most...they were har-har inducing in that cool fifties way (even cooler'n the tepid Steve Allen) that oozed from the works of Harvey Kurtzman and could be spotted even in those supposedly kiddie-oriented Hanna-Barbara cartoons that were dragging the oldsters in front of the set just as much as they were the turdlers. Freberg's 1962 Chung King-sponsored Chinese New Year tee-vee special (which was written up in my rag as well!) was a big play around the BTC offices in the mid-90s and would be today if I only had a working VCR player. And who could forget those high-larious spoofs of DRAGNET, "The Great Pretender" and Elvis. Never did get to hear any of those anti-Vietnam war PSA's that I understand got Freberg on Nixon's Enemies List (though I can't find any concrete proof of that), but I'll bet those are a hoot as well (the "Vietnamamatic"???? Har!).

So it's so long to you master cartoon voice, tee-vee funnyman (remember when this unabashed rock 'n' roll hater was on THE MONKEES???) and yet another cool fifties/sixties guy with glasses (along with Bill Cullen and Alan Ludden!). Sheesh, somehow I now feel a whole lot older than the four-year-old I always envision myself as!
Well, do ya think I have created a spiffy batch of reviews here now...c'mon, do YA??? Well, yeah, the selection coulda been better, but given the past week I'm surprised I was able to crank out this much. One oldie, one recently bought and the rest donated. Who sez one can't live on a mere five dollars a week anyhow?


Neglected debut ESP spin from the equally neglected Simmons, who plays not as ferocious as the big names but good enough to make you forget some of those not so exciting performers who used to pop up in the eighties and nineties. An as-you'd-expect new thing session featuring the beautifully droning trumpet of Barbara Donald, John Hicks doing standard Bley-isms on the piano, Teddy Smith on bass and Marvin Pattillo on percussion. Best of the batch; "A Distant Voice" which has Simmons wailing alto over one of the most beautiful mid-east drones heard at least since LaMonte Young, and who am I to lie to you?
Jake Starr and the Delicious Fullness-TASTES GOOD CD-r (originally on AM)

Typical garage revival platter that similar to most of the ones we've heard ever since the seventies. Good cheap trasho organ sound coupled with reconstituted tough teenage vocals. Not bad at all but really nothing that might have excited me the same way these sorta shenanigans did back when Moxie Records was in business and BATTLE OF THE GARAGES seemed like the ultimate in underground rock expression especially compared with alla that new wave-o gunch that was siphoning money away from our trust funds. For 99th FLOOR readers, and maybe a few fans of the early BLACK TO COMM as well.
Moondog-RARE MATERIAL 2-CD set (Indigo)

Before they had outsider music, they had outsider music. And this guy (along with Harry Partch, Conlon Nancarrow and some hip relic I'll find out about tomorrow) was one of the earliest practitioners of the form to the point where he was considered hepster material long before Janis Joplin covered his "All Is Loneliness". Heck, even Marlon Brando used to sit in with him slapping the bongos, and I remember reading in some old issue of BUCKETFULL OF BRAINS where Moondog himself said that none other than Lenny Bruce showed an interest in his work, but we won't talk about overrated unfunny junkies who think they have something important to say about society especially when they don't.

Rather upfront collection this is, with stuff from those really old albums Moondog did in the fifties as well as some newer extravaganzas ranging from Big Band strut to introspective renaissance-type thingies. It all fits in well when you're in the mood for something that's jazzy then emotional then kinda Amerigan rustic. And, like the best of this original outta nowhere music it doesn't have a SHARD of artistic pretension the kind you've seen outta the billions of performance artists and underground rock types who think they're being creative when they're aping the likes of Lydia Lunch a good thirtysome years after these mattress gal types shoulda known better.

As Madonna said about some seventies foreign film, "I like it because it's real"...
THE BOTTLE ROCKETS CD-r burn (originally on East Side Digital)

Average (in fact, kinda ho-hum) country rock that at least has got a definite pounce to it. Gets points for making an attempt to merge deep south grit and suburban slob rockism, but just doesn't hit the mark like similar efforts by the Kama Sutra-era Flamin' Groovies let alone pre-glitzout Stones. Still, the tracks heard here sure do make for a whole better listening experience than alla that new country popschmooze that I hear every time I enter into Dollar General to pick up a bag of pork rinds.
Fossils-FOR BRIAN RURYK CD (Kendra Steiner Editions)

Crazed collage of musique concrete roar, huddling somewhere between Smegma, Nurse With Wound, Orchid Spangiafora and that dream you had one night having something to do with a high school science class and severe constipation. Rather extreme at times but nothing that will want to make you upchuck, and quite mesmerizing even when the sound seems to be going off into tangents that would make Sun Ra's various space explorations seem like first class travel complete with the comfy slippers. Pretty snazzy stuff if you must know, and something that I'll bet a whole slew of anal retentive geeks will be studying to death 100 years from now because hey, what else will there be for them to do?
Various Artists-I SAW HER STANDING NEXT TO IGOR CD-r burn (BS)

I enjoyed it. The thing's got a pleasing mish-mosh of obscurities from sixties soul (the Bronzettes, Betty Davis before she married Miles) to familiar faves missing the charts big (Brenda Lee, Bill Medley) to British Invasion rave (the Boy Blues) and forgotten garage bands (the Snaps). Oddly enough I actually owned The Paniks' Batman spoof entitled "I Can Beat Him Up" at one time, but I think it got dumped somewhere (maybe might still be snuggled in my collection somewhere). My faves of the lot just happen to be this Mexican-themed novelty about Christmas south of the border entitled "Burrito", Zacherle's horror grossout "Igor" and Nat King Cole plugging some cheapo wine via a promotional platter sent to local booze shops. Dunno if they still bottle this "Arriba" stuff, but if you got a bottle of MD 20/20 or Thunderbird handy it just might go swell with this 'un.

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