A little something extra for all of you, a huge thank you for following the blog, joining the Facebook group, reading the books and generally making me feel all smushy inside. 20 terrible Christmas records for you to stream or download - a whole album's worth of dreadful Christmas music. Some have appeared on the blog before, some will be new to you - all are diabolical (with the possible exception of Shonen Knife's Space Christmas, which is simply brilliant).
Shonen Knife – Space Christmas
The Sisterhood - Merry Christmas from Tonga, the Friendly
Isle
Robin Laing - I’m the Man Who Slits the Turkeys Throats at
Christmas
Dick Kent – A Christmas Rose
C3P0 – A Christmas Sighting
Red Sovine -
Billy’s Christmas Wish
Gene Marshall – Evelyn Christmas
Jon Bongiovi – R2D2 We Wish You a Merry Christmas
Sonny Cash – Merry Christmas Polka
Santa’s Pixie Helpers – the Animal’s Christmas Song
The Happy Crickets - Christmas is for the Family
Norris the Troubadour, Seaboard Coastliners - Christmas Time
Philosophy
Dick Kent - If Christmas Could Come In July It's Christmas
Card Time Again
Dick Kent - Everywhere You Go on Christmas
Eleanor Shaw - Little Piccolo, the Christmas Elf
Little Marcy – C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S
Madelyn Buzzard - Christmas is the Love Within Your Heart
The Royal Guardsmen – Snoopy’s Christmas
Tiny Tim – I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus
Father Abraphart and the Smurps – Lick a Smurp For Christmas
(All Fall Down)
Ho! Ho! Ho! Here’s another trio of terrible tinselly
tragedies for you, in the shape of the late actor Dan Blocker, former Iron
Maiden vocalist Paul Di’Anno and our old friend ‘little’ Marcy Tigner.
Dan Blocker is best remembered for his portrayal of the
lovable Eric ‘Hoss’ Cartwright on the TV series Bonanza, which ran from 1959 to 1973, but was axed shortly
after Dan died aged 43 of a pulmonary embolism following gall bladder surgery. Dan,
who had appeared in a number of western shows – including Gunsmoke,
Colt .45, The Restless Gun, Sheriff of Cochise, Cheyenne, The Rifleman, Cimarron
City, Zorro, Wagon Train and Jefferson
Drum before putting down roots at the
Ponderosa Ranch released his version of Deck the Halls on the
1963 album Christmas on the Ponderosa. Featuring
all four men in the Cartwright family, this cute little timepiece has since
been reissued on CD.
Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without a decent fright, and
nothing in the world of bad records is quite as frightening as the original
devil doll Little Marcy, here performing her unique version of the Rosemary
Clooney classic Suzy Snowflake from one of the earliest Little Marcy albums Christmas With Marcy.
Finally, Paul Di’Anno’s soulless rendering of the Bing
Crosby classic White Christmas comes
from the dreadful (and dreadfully misnamed: ‘featuring Denny Laine from Wings’)
1994 album Metal Christmas. I know we kind of ‘did’ heavy metal
Christmas last year, but I couldn’t let the season pass without offing this
turd up.
'On Heavy Metal Christmas my true love gave to me - a tattoo of Ozzy!"
There are certain things that should never happen, no matter what time of year it is. Good will to all men? bah! Humbug! I'm talking, of course, of heavy metal acts covering classic Christmas songs. It's just awful, and it needs to stop.
If they're trying to be sincere, they come across as bombastic and over the top, and if they're trying to be funny they come across as bombastic and over the top. You can't do songs about the birth of Christ if you're supposed to worship satan. Even if you do add a ridiculously over the top guitar solo into the mx. It just ain't right.
And here, to prove my point, are four examples of the genre from some of the giants of the genre, including Ronnie James Dio (Rainbow/Black Sabbath) with Sabbath's guitar legend Tony Iommi and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Alice Cooper (why, Alice? Why?) with Santa Claws is Coming to Town from the 2008 album We Wish You a Metal Xmas; Twisted Sister with Heavy Metal Christmas and Manowar, with their surprisingly straight version of an old christmas carol.
Both Alice (aka Vince Furnier) and Twisted Sister's Dee Snider have gone on record to profess their belief in God; Ronnie James Dio as raised catholic, and according to the late singer's wife, still believed in some sort of superior being. I can't tell you anything about the beliefs of the various members of Manowar, who put out their version of Silent Night in 2013, and frankly I don't really care. Like the other three tracks here, it's shockingly awful.
Ho ho ho! Yes, it’s that time of year again, time to look at
some of the worst Christmas-themed records ever released. And what a doozy I
have for you today.
Released in several countries as the B-side to their Jingle
Bell Rock, a cover of the 1957 Bobby Helms
hit, Jingle Bell Imitations originally
appeared (as did its flipside) in the US in 1961 on the LP Bobby
Rydell/Chubby Checker – a truly awful album whose ‘highlight’ is a
seven minute medley featuring the hitmaking pair singing snatches of each
other’s chart toppers. Jingle Bell Rock
saw a UK release in 1962, with a
different track - What Are You Doing New Year's Eve - on the B-side.
Chubby, of course, is well known for his hits The Twist, Let’s Twist Again, The Pony and others. He had form: his first release The Class featured him imitating singers includingElvis, Fats Domino… and Bobby Rydell. Rydell is less
well remembered here in the UK, although he scored several major US hits in the
early 60s, including the Billboard number two Wild One. Both artists were signed to Cameo Parkway records,
the company that put out this tosh, and had appeared on each other’s recording
sessions before this album. Both artists, now in their 70s, are still
performing today, although Rydell’s poor health has caused him to cut down on
his work load in recent years.
In 2013 Chubby sued Hewlett Packard over an app that "adversely
affects Chubby Checker's brand and value and if allowed to continue, will cause
serious damage to the Plaintiff's goodwill and will tarnish his image that he
has worked to maintain over the last 50 years." That app, called the Chubby Checker allowed users to enter a man's shoe size to estimate
the size of his penis. Chubby’s lawyer (one Willie Gary…seriously, you could
not make this stuff up!) was seeking half a billion dollars in damages.
Enjoy!
To download the audio, click on the Tindeck logo and you'll be taken to the download page
Welcome to the 345th WWR post - and the last this year before we begin our annual Christmas cavalcade.
Born in Grand Rapids, Michigan (September 2, 1923) Victor
Lundberg was an American radio personality and newscaster best known for his
spoken-word record An Open Letter To My Teenage Son, which provided him with a US Top 10 hit in 1967.
The record, written by Robert Thompson, imagines a stern
father talking to his teenage son. Whilst the Battle Hymn of the Republic plays
in the background, Lundberg touches on such topics as long hair, the existence
of God, the Vietnam War, and the expectation that all good Americans should
fight for the freedom of their country. The song ends with Lundberg telling his
son that, if the teen decides to burn his draft card then he should also burn
his ‘birth certificate at the same time. From that moment on, I have no
son’. That denouement is slightly at odds
with Lundberg’s own liberal views and with the song’s earlier line that ‘your
mother will love you no matter what you do, because she is a woman; and I love
you too, son’.
The B-side My Buddy Carl, is more representative of Lundberg, and hides a plea for equal rights
for people of all colours within a similar, Vietnam-themed soliloquy.
An Open Letter
became a surprise hit, making number 10 on the Billboard Hot 100, number six on
Cash Box and selling over one million copies, earning a gold disc and a Grammy
nomination for Best Spoken Word Recording (it lost to Senator Everett McKinley
Dirksen's similar Gallant Men).
Encouraged by this success, Liberty released an entire album of Lundberg's
musings, also entitled An Open Letter although that failed to
chart. In January 1968 Life magazine
printed a scathing review of Lundberg’s disc, dismissing it as ‘an
item that anybody can hate’.
Victor Lundberg who, according to an article in The
Village Voice (November 16, 1967) spent WWII working for the Psychological
Warfare Department (presumably the joint Anglo-American Psychological Warfare
Division) died on February 14, 1990. His daughter Terri (commenting on www.unpleasant.org in 2006), stated that
Lundberg ‘died a drunken man on state aid in Michigan alone in a run
down apartment’. There was no love lost
between Lundberg and his family: ‘He was estranged from all of his
children and never provided financial or emotional support to any of them,’ Terri wrote.
Unsurprisingly there were a good number of "response" records to An
Open Letter To My Teenage Son, and I’ve
included three of the best here for you today: Keith Gordon's A
Teenager's Answer, A Teenager's
Open Letter To His Father by Robert
Tamlin, and Open Letter To The Older Generation by radio and television personality and the World's
Oldest Living Teenager Dick Clark.
Enjoy!
Note: I'm trying out a new MP3 player and download site: click on the track to stream the audio or click on the Tindeck logo to be taken to the download page. Let me know how you get on with it!
A gifted artist, in 1959 he entered the École des
Beaux-Arts, two years later becoming the youngest artist to ever have his work
displayed in the Museum of Paris. In 1964 he left France for the USA, settling
in New York, and taught himself English by watching
television. He continued to work as as an artist and photographer, and
began acting in Off Broadway productions. He even did some modelling for National Lampoon magazine.
In 1974, after appearing in Oliver Stone’s debut film Seizure he got his big break, landing the role of the tiny
villain Nick-Nack in The Man with the Golden Gun. A move to California, where he met Aaron
Spelling, resulted in his being cast opposite Ricardo Montalban in a 1977 ABC Movie
of the Week pilot called Fantasy
Island. A sequel - Return to
Fantasy Island - followed in 1978 and a
series was soon commissioned. Fantasy Island went on to run for six seasons from 1978-1983,
making a household name out of Herve’s character Tattoo and his catchphrase ‘The
plane! The plane!’
Unfortunately Herve’s
newly found fame – and reported $25,000 an episode pay cheque – would also lead
to his downfall. He met actress Donna Camille on the set and in September 1980
she became his second wife. The marriage quickly turned sour, with Donna filing
for divorce in December 1981. A little over a year later, after demanding the
same money for his role on Fantasy Island as front man Montalban, ABC dropped Herve from the show.
Herve quickly found himself short of money and was forced to
sell his 2.5-acre and move into a rented house in North Hollywood. It was
reported that he would often consume two bottles of wine in a single night – a
huge amount for such a diminutive man. His health was suffering too: in
increasing pain from internal organs that were too large for his body, Herve
was forced to take a cocktail of pills each day to alleviate the symptoms.
Unsurprisingly he began to suffer from frequent bouts of depression.
In the early morning of September 4, 1993 Kathy Self - Herve's friend of 14 years - found
his body in the yard of his house. Herve had written a suicide note and,
ghoulishly, also made and audio recording of his last moments. After saying
goodbye to Kathy he aimed his gun into a pillow placed against his chest and
pulled the trigger. The tape recorder caught the sound of Herve cocking the
pistol and of Kathy arriving on the scene. She rushed him to hospital where he
was declared deceased. He was 50 years old. Herve's body was cremated and the
ashes scattered at sea. A sad, sad end.
However he did leave us with a legacy. Luckily for us Herve
made several stabs at a recording career: in 1980 he released the single Why/When
a Child is Born. Both of these tracks also
featured on the charity album Children of the World: the Time is Now…and
both of these tracks are included here for you now.
I’m massively indebted to David Noades and WFMU for
rediscovering this curio back in 2007, and to eBay and Discogs for helping me
land a copy of my own!
It’s not often that you get to listen to the sound of a
surgical procedure put to music, but that’s exactly what the Dutch-based
pharmaceutical company Norgine (established way back in 1906) decided its’ UK
sales force needed to help them sell their laxatives to chemists’ shops around
the country in the mid-1960s.
Livingstone Recordings, a short-lived London-based label
that specialised in religious recordings and had previously put out an album by
Billy Graham, manufactured the disc.
The B-side features A Representatives Visit, an audio vignette which features a Norgine
salesman selling Normacol to a GP: ‘can we begin by talking about
constipation?’ Ugh! ‘Now let’s jump from the bowel to the
stomach’…
But it is the A-side that’s the pip.
Tableau of a Lithotomy was
written by the 17th century French composer Marin Marais. A busy man, as well
as writing several books of instrumental music and being a court-appointed
musician to the king, he also managed to find the time to sire 19 children. The
piece, as described on the gatefold sleeve of the disc, is ‘a musical
description of a bladder operation’ It appears that Marais intended
that Tableau of a Lithotomy would
demonstrate the versatility of the viol (also known as the Viola da Gamba), a
bowed string instrument similar to the cello.
'Some 250 years ago a French composer, Marin Marais,
wrote - to the best of our knowledge - the only musical description of a
surgical operation. He called it "Le tableau de l'operation de la
taille" or "Tableau of a Lithotomy". This most unusual offering
was taken from an old edition of the Library of the Conservatory of Music in
Paris; it had not previously been performed in modern times.
Marin Morais (1656-1728) - the greatest player of the
viola de gamba of his time - was a pupil of Lulli and a soloist in the Royal
Chamber Orchestra at the time of Louis XIV. He wrote profusely and brilliantly
for the viola da gamba, but his compositions for this 7-stringed instrument are
in such complicated polyphonic style that they defy transcription for the
4-stringed violin-cello and today, unfortunately all but forgotten.
Our recording was made by the famous Dutch viola da gamba
player Carel Boomkamp, accompanied by the distinguished harpsichordist,
Millicent Silver.
The verbal commentary which you will hear with the music,
announcing the phases of the operation as it progresses, is based on the
composer’s original annotations, which were intended to accompany the music’.
A lithotomy (from Greek "lithos" (stone) and
"tomos" (cut)), is a surgical method for removal of stones formed
inside organs such as the kidneys, bladder, and gallbladder, that cannot exit
naturally through the urinary system.
Again: ugh!
Apologies for the poor quality of the B-side: I'll replace the link after I've converted my own copy.
Yummy Yummy Yummy by
the Ohio Express is one of the most diabolical bubblegum hits ever inflicted on
the world – a truly wretched record (although, to be fair, it’s not quite as
abominable as the follow up Chewy Chewy). So why on earth would the wonderful Julie London – the angel who
crooned the definitive version of Cry
me A River – decide to cover it?
You can’t really blame the members of Ohio Express, as the
band didn’t really exist. ‘They’ were a studio project put together by Jerry
Kasenetz's and Jeffrey Katz's Super K Productions with an ever-changing
line-up: at one time Ohio Express featured the four men who would go on to form
10CC. Miss London, however, should have known better.
Born Julie Peck on September 26, 1926 in Santa Rosa,
California, Julie London began acting in movies in 1944. Ten years later the sultry
singer signed to Liberty Records and issued her first album, Julie Is her Name, in December 1955. Here first four albums were all
top 20 hits in the US. She died in 2000, having never fully recovered from a
stroke suffered some five years earlier.
Released in 1969 – as her 29th and last LP for
Liberty - London’s album Yummy Yummy Yummy is
a misguided hotch-potch of contemporary covers, including Light My Fire,
And I Love Her (as And I Love Him),
garage band favourite Louie Louie and
Bob Dylan’s Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn).
It’s beyond ridiculous. And that’s why I’m including it
three of the tracks from this awful album here, for your delectation.
You’ll have all heard about L Ron Hubbard, the mediocre pulp
sci-fi writer, bigamist, inveterate liar, convicted felon and racist who
founded the cult of scientology… a ‘church’ populated by crazies who believe
that anyone can attain immortality so long as they have the money.
I don’t need to go in to details here, but unless you’ve
been living under a rock you’ll be more than aware of the controversies that
surround this so-called religion; the numerous court cases, the allegations of
human trafficking, of holding people against their will and the exploitation
and blackmail of stupid rich people. As Hubbard once noted: “Writing for a
penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars,
the best way would be to start his own religion."
I’m not here to poo-poo their bizarre beliefs, to argue
about people being dropped down volcanoes millions of years ago, to talk of
Xenu or Thetans, to discuss Hubbard’s battle with mental illness (he was diagnosed
with schizophrenia: a recent documentary, Going Clear, produced letters Hubbard wrote begging for help with
his illness) or even about why Shelly Miscavige, the wife of cult leader David
Miscavige, has not been seen in public for eight years – for all we’re interested
in today is the godawful ‘music’ made over the years by L Ron Hubbard (usually
referred to as LRH).
For Hubbard was not only a writer of fiction, he also
fancied himself a musician, writing, producing and helming several ridiculous
musical projects in an effort elicit funds from his faithful followers.
Alongside endless albums of lectures, readings and
interpretations of Hubbard’s personal philosophy, there are at least four
records that fans of bad music need to be aware of: Space Jazz, Mission Earth,
the Road to Freedom and the Joy
Of Creating.
Space Jazz, conceived
as the soundtrack to the book Battlefield Earth, was released in 1982. There were plans too to turn
the book into a movie, with Scientology poster boy John Travolta in the lead as
hero Jonnie Goodboy Tyler. However the movie did not appear until 2000, at
which point Hubbard was long dead (well, his physical body was, anyway) and
Travolta – now far too old to play the hero - was cast as the villain Terl
instead. The film was a huge flop. However Space Jazz remains an essential listen.
Overseen by Jazz great Chick Corea, the album features dull
piano pieces, snippets of comic-book dialogue and childish sound effects. It
uses the then-new digital sampling synthesizer the Fairlight CMI throughout –
most notably in the utterly ridiculous Windsplitter – an instrumental track that sounds like it was
recorded for a ZX Spectrum game and is peppered throughout with neighing
horses.
Mission Earth is an
altogether different animal, issued as a solo album by guitar great Edgar
Winter in 1986. The words and music were written by Hubbard, with the album
produced and arranged by Winter. Sessions began in 1985, but were not completed
until after Hubbard’s death in January 1986. Apparently Hubbard left detailed
instructions and audio tapes for the musicians and producers to follow when
making this album, which Winter has described as "both a return
to rock’s primal roots and yet highly experimental". It isn’t: it’s perfectly dreadful. Mission
Earth was published by Revenimus Music
Publishing, the music publishing division of the Church of Scientology, which
also published The Road to Freedom
the same year.
Credited to L. Ron Hubbard & Friends, The Road to
Freedom features John Travolta, Chick
Corea, Leif Garrett, Frank Stallone, and Karen Black amongst others. According to
the Church of Scientology, the album achieved gold record status within four
months of release, although to the best of y knowledge it has jet to be awarded
anything like a framed disc from the RIAA.
A March 20, 1986 press release put out by the Church of
Scientology announced a series of tribute events in honour of LRH’s birthday,
and stated, "Crowds applauded the surprise release of an album of
popular music composed by Hubbard entitled The
Road to Freedom, featuring leading artists John Travolta, Chick
Corea, Karen Black, opera star Julia Migenes-Johnson, Leif Garrett, Frank
Stallone, and more than two dozen other recording artists and
entertainers." According to Wikipedia,
The Church of Scientology directed its’ members to order multiple copies of the
album to give to associates as a means to introduce people to the concepts of
Scientology. The advertising calls this album "the perfect
dissemination tool". Jonathan Leggett
of The Guardian wrote that "the
lyrics are rotten. At one stage Travolta croons: "Reality is me, reality
is you. Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Although praised on websites as 'a musical
masterpiece' it actually sounds like the kind of jazz noodle that they used to
demonstrate CD players in Dixons in the 1980s." Luckily for us, The Road to Freedom features a performance from LRH himself – the
preposterous L’envoi, Thank You for Listening.
And so to The Joy of Creating. Subtitled The Golden Era Musicians And
Friends Play L Ron Hubbard, this pile of
dross features Isaac Hayes, famously ousted from his role as Chef on South
Park after refusing to poke fun at
Scientology on the programme – although he was happy to take their dollar when
producers Matt Stone and Trey Parker extracted the Michael from other belief
systems. Other artists include Doug E. Fresh and our old friends Chick Corea
and Edgar Winter.
Cobbled together from Hubbard’s writings and released 15
years after his death, The Joy of Creating
(according to the CD booklet) “reminds us that a being causes his own
feelings, and this truth alone has revitalized many artists and professionals
the world over.” What it actually does is
reinterpret the same piece of shabby writing six times, slathering LRH’s words
with fake smiles and forced bonhomie. It’s nasty, dated, unnecessary nonsense
and sounds like a Cosby Show soundtrack. Just awful.
Anyway, here we have a track from each of these four albums:
Windsplitter from Space Jazz,Joy City fromMission Earth, L’envoi, Thank You
for Listening, from The Road to Freedom
and Doug E Fresh’s The Joy of Creating from the album of the same name.
Enjoy!
Thanks to The Squire for inspiring this week's blog post!
Two Sides of the Moon,
Keith Moon's 1975 solo album, has been described as "the most
expensive karaoke album in history".
It’s a horrible album made by an inspired drummer who – bizarrely – decided not
to play drums (he jumps behind the kit on just three tracks) but to sing
instead, even though Keith was not known for his vocal prowess. He had recorded
a few lead vocals for The Who, most notably Bucket T (from the Ready
Steady WhoEP)
and Bellboy from Quadrophenia
(he would go on to sing Fiddle About on
1975’s Tommy soundtrack; the original 1969 version was sung by
the song’s author, John Entwistle), and had recently appeared on the misfiring
Beatles tribute All This And World War II singing
When I’m 64, but the man known as Moon The Loon would cheerfully - and honestly - admit that he was completely tone deaf.
Inspired by the fact that all of the other members of the
Who had been indulging in solo projects (with distinctly different levels of
success), Two Sides of the Moon should
have been Keith’s moment to shine. However even bringing in a bunch of his
superstar friends - including Spencer Davis, Bobby Keys, Rick Nelson, Harry
Nilsson, John Sebastian, Ringo Starr, Joe Walsh and Flo & Eddie (Mark
Volman and Howard Kaylan from the Turtles/the Mothers of Invention) failed to
raise the LA recording sessions above carnage, and the resulting album is a
travesty. The bastard cousin of other mid-70’s studio excesses – Nilsson’s Pussycats,
the Lennon/Spector sessions that resulted
in Roots/Rock ‘n’ Roll and the
bloated, brandy and cocaine-fuelled Goodnight Vienna sessions - Two Sides of the Moon shines as a beacon of the unrestrained generosity of
the music industry. Who today would fork out $200,000 (well over $1million
today) for such an exercise in vanity?
Preceded by a single, a cover of the Beach Boys’ Don't
Worry Baby (re-recorded for the album with
Keith singing in a lower register: both versions are horrible), the album
consists of cover versions – he revisits the Who's The Kids Are
Alright, massacres the Beatles' In
My Life " beyond all recognition –
and new material provided by his pals, including Ringo (who ‘duets’ with Keith
on Together), Harry Nilsson and
John Lennon, who provided Move Over Ms L. Lennon would later re-record the track as the B-side to his hit cover
of Stand By Me.
One school of though has it that Two Sides of the Moon was supposed to be messy: how can anyone take this
seriously? The reversible inner cover for the LP, which shows Keith’s naked
bottom doing a ‘moonie’ out of his car window, should have been sign enough that
this project was meant to be a joke. Why then did he begin sessions for a
follow up, shelved after the appalling sales of Two Sides of the Moon?
Recent reissues have added a slew of bonus cuts, including
tracks recorded for the aborted second solo album. Would it have been any
better? We’ll never know. Moon died three years after this sole solo project
came out.
So, to save you the pain of having to listen to the entire
album, here are three wholly representative cuts from Two Sides of the Moon, the aforementioned Don't Worry Baby, In
My Life and Together.
Big thanks to WWR reader Graham Clayton for suggesting
today’s horror.
Born March 31, 1948 in Melbourne, Vietnam veteran (he served
with the 7th Battalion of the Royal Australian Regiment) Graham Studley Cornes is
a former Australian rules footballer, coach, and sports presenter.
Luckily for us, he also fancies himself as a bit of a
musician, fronting Cornesy's Allstars, playing guitar and taking on some of the
vocal duties. A surprise really, as his vocal prowess – or distinct lack
thereof – had already been showcased on his appalling 1977 45 I Gotta Girl, with its glam rock (some might say Status Quo
rip-off) pomp,and the equally
atrocious B-side Untying the Laces – whichdrops every
football-related metaphor and simile in to the lyrics you can imagine in under
three minutes.
Cornes played for Glenelg Football Club in the South
Australian National Football League (SANFL) between 1967 and 1982. In 317 games
for Glenelg he kicked 339 goals. Graham represented South Australia 21 times,
including as captain in 1978. He was selected in the All-Australian team in
1979 and 1980, winning the Tassie Medal in 1980 and the Simpson Medal in 1979.
He went on to become coach of the Adelaide Football Club,
and played 47 games with them in 1983-1984. After leaving South Adelaide he
returned to Glenelg in 1985 as coach, winning premierships in 1985 and 1986 and
also taking them to three Grand Finals in 1987, 1988 and 1990. He was the
All-Australian coach in 1987 and 1988, and in 1991 was appointed the inaugural
coach of the Adelaide Football Club in their first year in the AFL. Cornes is
now a football media personality, hosting televised football matches since the
1990s and writing regular sports commentaries News Limited.
Both sides of this turkey were written by Evan Jones,
another Vietnam veteran, who was co-author of The Pushbike Song, an international hit for The Mixtures in 1970.He really should have known better.
The GTOs (not to be confused with the male group who
recorded for Parkway and scored a hit with a cover of the Beach Boys’ Girl
From New York City) were a six or
seven-piece girl ‘group’ consisting of Miss Pamela (Pamela Ann Miller, later to
become better known as supergroupie Pamela Des Barres and author of the memoir I'm
with the Band), Miss Sparky (Linda Sue Parker who, in 1976, would
sing on Zappa’s Zoot Allures album),
Miss Christine (Christine Frka, who would appear on the cover of Zappa’s Hot
Rats album, was Moon Unit Zappa’s
babysitter, helped boyfriend Vince Furnier become Alice Cooper and who died tragically young after
overdosing on prescription painkillers), Miss Sandra (Sandra Lynn Rowe, later
Sandra Leano, who died of cancer in 1991), Miss Mercy (Judy Peters), Miss Lucy
(Lucy Offerall, later Lucy McLaren), and Miss Cynderella (Cynthia Wells, later
Cynthia Cale-Binion, at one point married to the Velvet Undrground’s John Cale
and who died in 1997). Legend has it that the ladies were given their nicknames
by Tiny Tim, who had a penchant for addressing all of the women he met (and the
three he wed) as Miss something-or-other.
Although it is usually claimed that their acronym stands for
Girls Together Outrageously (and indeed, that’s how it appears on the cover of
their one and only album), according to Sid Hochman’s 1972 book Readings in
Psychology, (which discusses the girls’
bisexual community and quotes several members of the commune), the GTOs began as ‘a community of
seven girls between 18 and 21’ called Girls
Together Only, living together in Frank
Zappa’s Laurel Canyon log cabin. Miss Lucy (who does not perform on the album
but who appeared in Zappa’s movie 200 Motels and sadly died in 1991 of an
AIDS-related illness) stated in a filmed interview that Girls Together
Only was their correct name.
Originally calling themselves the Laurel Canyon Ballet
Company (and, for a short time, adopting the name of the legendarily awful, turn of the century vaudeville act The Cherry Sisters) the girls signed a contract
with Zappa, who kept them on a retainer of $35 a week each. The GTOs toured
with Zappa and the Mothers of Invention, appearing on stage as dancers and
performing covers of songs as perverse as Getting to Know You from The King and I. According to Des
Barres they ‘only played a few gigs, maybe four or five’, however, as well as appearing with Zappa and the
Mothers they also performed with other Zappa-related acts including Alice
Cooper and Wild Man Fisher.
Their only album, the Zappa-produced Permanent Damage, was released in 1969. And what a record it is.
Featuring contributions from Frank Zappa, Nicky Hopkins,
Jeff Beck, Rod Stewart, Lowell George, Russ Titleman, Ry Cooder and Monkee Davy
Jones (who co-wrote the album’s closing track I'm In Love With The Ooo-Ooo
Man and the Beefheart–inspired The
Captain's Fat Theresa Shoes), Permanent
Damage is in parts naïve, charming and thoroughly horrible. Songs
are mixed in with conversations between the members of the group, their
friends, and other ‘stars’ including the infamous Cynthia Plaster Caster and
Rodney Bingenheimer, known as the Mayor of the Sunset Strip and one of Davy Jones’ stand-ins on The
Monkees.
Some of you will love this, some will hate it. Personally
although I can see the charm, I find the voices grating and the humour stilted.
I’m not a Zappa fan, although I have a lot of time for many of the projects and
acts he was involved with. I appreciate him for his boundary pushing and for
challenging censorship, but I’ve always found him a bit too clever for his own
good. Does humour
belong in music? You be the judge.
It’s telling that Frank famously eschewed drugs (apart from
caffeine, nicotine and a moderate amount of alcohol), yet members of the GTO’s
– and other musicians involved in Permanent Damage - have freely admitted that they were often out of
their heads, and this album screams acid trip. “We only lasted a
short time because of the drug use,” Miss
Mercy told interviewer Steve Olsen of Juice magazine in 2008. “Frank was very anti-drugs, and
because of our drug use, he had to get rid of the GTOs.” Miss Pamela has claimed
that Lowell George was fired by Zappa for smoking marijuana (on leaving the
Mothers of Invention George formed Little Feat: he died of a heroin overdose in
1979). Zappa himself died of prostate cancer in 1993; he dismissed the idea
that it was in any way linked to his smoking. “To me, a cigarette is food,” He observed. “Tobacco is my favourite
vegetable.” Frank’s wife, Gail, died
earlier this week after a long battle with lung cancer.
Here are three of the songs from Permanent Damage: the album's opener The Eureka Springs Garbage Lady, its closing track I'm In Love With The Ooo-Ooo Man and the ode to Captain Beefheart, The Captain's Fat Theresa Shoes.
No Post next week – I’m taking a well-deserved week off – so
here’s a bumper bundle of badness to tide you over until I return.
I love 60s French pop music – the freakbeat stylings of
Jacques Dutronc, the genius pop of France Gall’s Poupee du Cire and the nutso pairing of Brigitte Bardot and Serge
Gainsbourg for example – but why on earth would the world need a French
Screaming Lord Sutch (or Screaming Jay Hawkins for that matter)?
Yet that’s exactly what it got in 1963 when Jean-Pierre
Kalfon, better known under his stage name Hector, released a handful of records
via Philips France.
Not to be confused with the French actor of the same birth
name (that particular Monsieur Kalfon is eight years older than our Hector and
would launch his own singing career later) our Jean-Pierre was born in 1946 and
was only 15 years’ old when he became Hector, the flamboyant singer of the beat
combo Les Mediators (which translates as The Picks). Stealing liberally from
both Hawkins and Sutch – he used to emerge on stage from a coffin just as
Hawkins (and later Sutch) had done – Hector would appear in white tie, tails
and cape (as Sutch often did) accompanied (in a nod to James Brown) by his
faithful valet Jerome. He was also known to emulate Sutch’s caveman look from
time to time. His incredibly (for the time) long, bushy hair earned him the
nickname The Chopin of Twist.
After recording an (unreleased) cover of Screamin’ Jay
Hawkins’ The Whammy he left France in
1967 and moved to Canada, where he dabbled in artist management and rubbed
shoulders with Tony Roman, the man behind Mme St Onge, before returning to
Paris and re-emerging in 1970 as part of the trio Hector, Tom et Jerry with the
one-off 45 Un P’tit Beaujolais/La Societie. Tom et Jerry had previously recorded as a duo for
RCA.
Last year (2014) Hector resurfaced with several members of
Les Mediators at the unveiling of a plaque to mark the Golf Drouot – a club
where many of France’s top performers (including Hector et les Mediators)
performed between 1955 and 1981.
Anyway, here’s a handful of Hector’s finest. Enjoy!
I’ve been reading about – and listening to a lot of – R.E.M
recently; reacquainting myself with one of the finest bands this world has ever
seen. It doesn’t really matter if you like them or not, but take my word for
it: even if you never got on with their records they were – quite simply – one
of the best live acts I’ve ever been fortunate enough to see. I cannot count
the number of times I saw that band live, from a pub in London (when they used
the pseudonym Bingo Hand Job) to a TV studio in Paris: from a rugby stadium in
Wales to the Hammersmith Odeon and a Victorian theatre in Dublin. When R.E.M
played live it was a magical, cathartic experience. And I miss them. Although
in my humble opinion they should have called it quits a few years before they
did, and Around the SunHigh Speed
Train aside) is bollocks.
Anyway…to the point.
Issued in 1988 on his own Dog Gone Records label, the five
track 12” EP Come On In Here If You Want To may be credited to Vibrating Egg but is actually a vanity project from
former R.E.M manager Jefferson Holt.
Holt, who was with the band from its earliest days, was
dismissed as manager of the world’s biggest act in 1996 – around the same time
that they signed with Warners for what was one of the largest deals in
recording history at the time: reportedly $80 million for five albums. Both
camps have resolutely refused to talk about why he went – in fact the terms of
the financial package means that they cannot legally discuss why he was booted
out after 15 years’ service, but according to the Los Angeles Times (June 1996)
‘Holt was asked to leave after members of the group
investigated allegations that he sexually harassed a female employee at [their] tiny Athens, Ga., office.
The 42-year-old manager officially left the R.E.M.
organization last week after receiving a hefty severance package, sources said.
In a phone interview, Holt denied he had ever sexually harassed anyone and said
that the decision to part ways with R.E.M. was mutual.
"I've agreed to keep the terms of my agreement with
R.E.M. confidential," Holt said. "However, 15 years is a long time,
and as time passed, our friendships have changed. I think we found as time
passed that we have less and less in common. I've become more interested in
other things in life and wanted to spend more time pursuing those interests.
I'm happier than I have been in a long time."
Representatives for R.E.M. refused to comment, but
released a statement Thursday that said the band and Holt terminated their
relationship by mutual agreement. According to the statement, "the reasons
for this decision and terms of the termination are private and confidential,
and no further discussion of these matters will be made by any of the
parties."
Band members were "shocked" when a female
employee complained four months ago about Holt's alleged behaviour, one source
said. The employee did not file a lawsuit nor register a claim with the Equal
Opportunity Employment Commission, but complained to the band that Holt had
harassed her with lewd remarks and demanded sexual favours, sources said.
Band members questioned Holt and then spent about three
months investigating the allegations, sources said. In May, the band called a
meeting and asked Holt to leave the organization, sources said.’ This same story has been repeated in other media,
including the New York Times, but
Peter Buck, R.E.M’s guitarist, strongly denied that anyone connected with R.E.M
had planted the sexual harassment story. Whatever happened, Holt was quickly erased from R.E.M
history. Two songs mention him – Little America and Can’t Get
There From Here – however whenever they
performed Little America live
after his departure they changed the lyrics to avoid referencing him.
Reviewed by Trouser Press in 1988, Ira Robbins had this to say about Come On In Here
If You Want To: ‘A 12-inch of
five cool covers by an unknown band on an indie label would normally rate
little notice, but Georgia's Vibrating Egg has more than just the good sense to
dedicate its record to Leonard Cohen and Viv Stanshall. Raoul Duplott, the
unsteady vocalist on these amiable renditions of Procol Harum's A Whiter Shade of Pale, Roky
Erickson's Bermuda, an old
spiritual and two of Alice Cooper's finest, is none other than Jefferson Holt,
then-manager of R.E.M. and founder of the Dog Gone label, surrounded by a host
of pseudonymous players. (Hmm...) Good fun, but Holt had best keep his day
job.’
‘Amiable renditions’?
A Whiter Shade of Pale is eight and a half minutes of torture,
with Holt’s pointless, artless prose followed by Keith Reid’s equally pointless
and tortuous lyrics. Bermuda later
turned up on the same Roky Ericksontribute album (Where the
Pyramid Meets the Eye) that featured
R.E.M’s version of I Walked With a Zombie. The two Alice Cooper
covers - Be My Lover and
Under My Wheels – even with their
rewritten lyrics are plain awful. As far as I am aware, the only member of R.E.M
who plays (and adds backing vocals) on the disc is bassist Mike Mills. Holt
used the pseudonym Raoul Duplott for the project; Mills appears as William B
Carr.
Long out of print, here are all five tracks from Come On
In Here If You Want To – the aforementioned
A Whiter Shade of Pale, Bermuda, Be My Lover and Under My Wheels, plus Particularly Zeke, a spiritual previously covered by Elvis Presley as Swing
Down Sweet Chariot on his gospel album His
Hand In Mine.
Ahh, the early 70s; a more simple time when our pop stars
were not paedophiles and when the disc jockeys on the nation’s number one radio
station were not scared that the next person to knock on the front door would be a policeman.
Ed ‘Stewpot’ Stewart – born Edward Mainwaring in 1941 - is a
British DJ and television presenter, best known for his years working for BBC
Radio 1 between 1967 and 1980 (particularly Junior Choice) and BBC Radio 2
(1980-1983 and 1991-2006) and as one of the many presenters of Top of the Pops
and Crackerjack on BBC Television. For many years he was also associated with
the children’s TV magazine Look-In.
Although he began his broadcasting career with radio Hong
Kong in 1961, he’s most closely associated with the BBC. Ed has had an often
tempestuous relationship with them: in 1983, he was ousted – along with other
old favourites including Pete Murray – by the controller of Radio 2 Bryan
Marriott with the rather vicious remark: ‘I am not prepared to let the
network stagnate. It is time to inject new blood into our programming, and
there is no room for Ed Stewart.’ Ed was ‘shocked
and disappointed’ at the sacking. ‘I
don’t think I’m any more old hat than anyone else in the network’, he said. His replacement was Gloria Hunniford… 54
weeks older than him.
But anyway, back to the music. Today’s cuts come from a
prime slice of ham entitled Stewpot’s Pop Party, one of a number of albums released under Ed’s name during the 70s. As
he was most closely associated with radio and TV shows aimed at children, most
of Ed’s recordings feature him narrating (or attempting to sing) kid’s songs
and nursery rhymes – his debut was the 1968 45 I Like My Toys, performed with the Save The Children Fund Choir, a
cover version of the Jeff Lynne/Idle Race song.
Stewpot’s Pop Party is
a kind of precursor to the awful Mini-Pops: in other words the album mostly
consists of children singing pop songs of the day in the hope of appealing to
other children and failing miserably. Pulled together as a kind of instant kids
party - the album is awash with the background noise of laughing, squealing
children; the gatefold cover features recipes and games and there’s even an
insert with pre-printed party invitation. The record includes four tracks by
TRex and one by the Move alongside several songs performed by ‘The Children’ and
Stewart’s own inane narration…which, as you’ll hear, includes several
references to well-known child molester Gary Glitter.
It’s a period piece from a more innocent age. And it’s truly
rotten.
Brian Wilson – 100% certified genius. The man behind some of
the most beautiful pop music of all time. He wrote God Only Knows, easily one of the greatest songs of all time. His
reputation should be unassailable.
But he also wrote Smart Girls… a song I would have all but forgotten about if I hadn’t been
recording a podcast with The Squire recently.
Brian is a troubled soul; his mid-60s meltdown caused the
abandonment of the Beach Boys’ Smile project
(an approximation of this missing album finally surfaced in 2011 as part of the
essential Smile Sessions box
set), signalled the end of the Beach Boys as a major chart act and would lead
to decades of pain for him and his family, years of substance abuse, and
periods of virtual house arrest from his controversial therapist Eugene Landy
before he finally re-emerged in 1988 with the rather wonderful Brian
Wilson album an its’ hit single Love and
Mercy. He’s since toured the world – both solo and with the band he
founded – to great acclaim and released several albums of new and re-worked
material.
Following the release of Brian Wilson he set to work on a second solo alum, originally to
be titled Brian. He has said that
the master tapes from the project – later titled Sweet Insanity - were stolen, although the songs were prepared for
release (cassette promos exist) and have since appeared on numerous bootlegs.
Five of the songs from the sessions were rerecorded and released on his 2004
album Gettin' in Over My Head,
and one - The Spirit of Rock and Roll - which featured Bob Dylan
on vocals, eventually turned up on the hard-to-find 2006 Beach Boys album Songs
from Here & Back. However several of
the songs remain officially unreleased to this day including the track I
present for you here, Brian’s misjudged attempt at rap, Smart Girls. I’m
breaking with tradition slightly by bringing you a recording that hasn’t
officially seen the light of day, but I thought you’d enjoy it anyway.
Smart Girls – with a
co-writer credit to Landy - was produced by Matt Dike, the co-founder of
Delicious Vinyl and part of the production team behind hits by Tone Loc and
Young MC, who chose to sample bits of earlier Beach Boys hits and sprinkle them
liberally throughout the song. Wilson played the song on the air during an
interview on Dr. Demento's show in 1992.
"Sweet Insanity
was never really released,” Wilson said in
an interview earlier this year. “You’ve got bootlegs, but it was
never released. And I thought some of the stuff was pretty good. It wasn’t the
best album I ever wrote. We just didn’t think it was good enough. They were
just like demos. We recorded about 10-12 songs, and we decided not to put it
because we thought that maybe people wouldn’t like it, so we junked it."
Good choice, Brian. The interviewer, Dave Herrera of the Las
Vegas Review-Journal, asked Brian about Smart Girls: “Was that just you fooling around and having a
good time?”
“Yeah, we were just having a good time,” Brian answered. “It was fun. We were just
kidding. I felt like I was going in the right direction. I thought if I added a
little bit more harmony, that people would like (that). Harmony is something that people love.”
In 1920 one of the most iconic masterpieces in cinema
history, Robert Wiene's Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari, shook filmgoers worldwide. This expressionist,
minimalist horror film introduced the world to Conrad Veidt, playing the
terrifying Cesare a somnambulist that can seemingly predict the future, and his
‘keeper’, the awful Doctor Caligari… and changed the direction of movies
forever.
Hans Walter Conrad Veidt was born in Tieckstrasse, Berlin in January 1893 (many biographies incorrectly state that he was born in Potsdam). he was a poor student, leaving school in 1912 without his diploma, yet within a year he was appearing on stage - in Shaw's The Doctor at the prestigious Deutsches Theatre. In
1914, at the beginning of World War I, he was conscripted into the German Army
and sent to the Eastern Front as a non-commissioned officer, where he took part
in the Battle of Warsaw. Contracting jaundice and pneumonia, Veidt was
evacuated to a hospital; while recuperating, the army allowed him to join another thetaer troupe, this time entertaining the troops at the front.
Deemed unfit for service, he was given a full
discharge in January 1917 and returned to Berlin to pursue his acting career. Although he rejoined the Deutsches Theatre he soon moved in to movies, attracted by the larger salaries paid to film actors. Signing first with Deutsch Bioscop, and later moving to the more famous Universum Film Ag (or Ufa), he would go on to appear in more than 100 films, including The Hands of
Orlac (1924) and The Man Who
Laughs (1928), based on Victor Hugo's novel
in which the son of a lord is punished for his father's disrespect to the king
by having his face carved into a permanent grin (providing the inspiration for
The Joker. Veidt also appeared in the pioneering gay
rights film Anders als die Andern (Different
from the Others, 1919) which was a huge
influence on the Dirk Bogarde film Victim.
He had a leading role in Germany's first talking picture, Das
Land ohne Frauen (Land Without
Women, 1929), but an early attempt to break
Hollywood failed due to his thick, almost impenetrable accent. Then, in 1932 he
starred in F.P 1 Does Not Answer, a
bizarre science fiction epic about a future trans-Atlantic air service where
planes land and refuel on a series of mid-ocean Floating Platforms. Like many
talking pictures of the time, multi-lingual versions of F.P 1 were made (several Laurel and Hardy films were made in Spanish, French and German). The German version starred Hans Albers,
the French version Charles Boyer and the British starred Veidt - all of whom
were compelled to 'sing' a singularly inappropriate ballad about lost love in a
lighthouse - When The Lighthouse Shines Across the Bay.
Soon after the Nazi Party took power in Germany Joseph
Goebbels purged the film industry of liberals and Jews, and copies of Anders
als die Andern were destroyed (it only
exists now in fragments). In 1933, a week after Veidt married Illona Prager, a
Jew, the couple emigrated to Britain. He improved his English and
starred in the title role of the original version of Jew Süss
(1934). Fervently opposed the Nazi regime, he donated most of his
personal fortune to Britain to assist in the war effort and became a British
citizen in 1938. While in England he made three of his best-known films - The
Spy in Black (1939), the Powell and Pressburger
film Contraband and The Thief of Baghdad (both 1940).
In 1941, he and Ilona moved to Hollywood, principally to
assist in the British effort in making films that might help persuade the US to come to Britain's aid against the Nazis. Realising that Hollywood would most likely typecast him in Nazi roles, he had
it written in to his contract that if he were to play Nazis then they must always be villains. He starred in
a few films, most notably A Woman's Face
(1941) with Joan Crawford and Casablanca (1942), but in 1943, at the age of fifty, he died of a massive heart
attack while playing golf. 55 years later, in 1998, his ashes were interred at
the Golders Green Crematorium in London.
But back to Conrad Veidt’s one stab at musical greatness...
for it is his version of When The Lighthouse Shines Across the Bay, originally issued on a 10” 78 in the UK in 1933
(backed with The Airman's Song, not
performed by Veidt) I present for you today.
Veidt's song seems to have been cut from the British release
of the movie, but was put out on an HMV 78, and subsequently reissued – not
once, but twice - in 1980 after it had been unearthed by disc jockey Terry
Wogan. Veidt's sinister delivery of Donovan Parson's awkward lyrics is one of
the most unsettling things I have ever heard.
Unfortunately I have been unable to track down a recording
of The Airman’s Song, but here’s Conrad
Veidt in all his glory, plus the two tracks that appeared on the two separate
7” reissues (both confusingly given the same catalogue number): I
Liked His Little Black Moustache by Binnie
Barnes, and Me And My Dog by
Frances Day.