AMERICA'S GREATEST FEMALE VOCALIST : PATTI PAGE

Yeah. That "Doggie in the Window" lady!

You're saying, "Ugh!" Of course you are. "The guy bothers to acknowledge the 6th year of the Illfolks blog because he wants to pay tribute to Patti Page??" Uh-huh.

The woman's never gotten much respect. Her image is White Bread. Anyone glancing at her hit song list sees a few kitschy songs with tourist-destination titles: "Old Cape Cod" "Allegheny Moon," "Tennessee Waltz." When I met Patti Page two or three years ago, she played a very modest venue. Her website hasn't been updated in a long time and she's pretty much retired now.

I'll tell you what I told Patti Page in person. What makes Patti Page the greatest, is what makes Muhammad Ali the greatest: versatility. Patti Page has not only recorded pop songs with panache and lilt, she's recorded jazz, country, Christmas, gospel and rock. As Michael Caine might put it, or Peter Sellers imitating him, "Not too many people know that." Obviously, so it has to be mentioned here!

One reason nobody knows, is the woman is humble. Her interest through her peak years was her family, especially her two adopted kids. She was just a working mom who liked to sing. She toured 40 weeks a year, she was prolific in the studio recording several albums a year...which meant that critics hardly noticed, and took for granted, the jazz concept albums, the torch ballad collections, or the rock cover songs. It was almost expected that a pop artist would do Christmas albums, collections of movie themes, religious stuff, novelty. It was only those who focused on one thing...that people really took notice of: Billie Holiday. Judy Garland. Marlene Dietrich. Patsy Cline.

Patti avoided parties, lived a suburban lifestyle, had no burning jealousies to drive her, and performed with the genial ease and gentle beauty that didn't set flashbulbs popping or make the front page of the pin-up magazines.

Judy Garland could belt. Billie Holiday had great phrasing on those jazz ballads. Rosemary Clooney and Ella Fitzgerald enunciated perfectly and were elegant interpreters of jazz and the American songbook…but you wouldn't hand them rockabilly, rock or C&W or even gospel. Julie London was fine for intimate vocals and had sexy album covers…but guess what, Patti Page had some very hot album covers, too! And she sang a much wider range than Julie London could.

Patti Page should be a Kennedy Center Honors recipient…joining such past winners as Perry Como (1987), Mary Martin (1989), Roy Acuff (1991), Lionel Hampton (1992), Morton Gould (1994), Benny Carter (1996), Loretta Lynn (2003), Julie Harris (2005), and George Jones (2008).

The stats on Patti Page are astonishing. Over 100 million records sold. 84 singles on the Billboard Top 100. Oh. And one Grammy. 1998. But she won it the first and only time she was nominated. It came about 50 years after her first hit, "Detour," and her pioneering first "double track" recording sessions. "Tennessee Waltz" is reputed to be the #2 single of all time, behind Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas." From 1948 to 1982 she always had a single in the Billboard Top 100. And while she was mostly considered either a Pop artist or a C&W artist, she remained the best-selling female artist of all time…and I don't think that title was taken away until the Madonna era.

Frankly, there are three reasons why Patti Page has not been given all the credit she's due. First, is "How Much is That Doggie In the Window." As much money and fame as it's brought her, it's also irritated critics and unfairly labeled her as just a mainstream-novelty performer. (PS, for years, she sang a PETA-type new version of the song, telling people to adopt not buy!) Second, she's middle-America, and the critics working for influential newspapers in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles have never been kind to "people's choice" performers..even national treasures such as Carol Burnett or Red Skelton, or unpretentious writers such as John Steinbeck. Third, too often her record label or her producers were off the mark with what they gave her and how it was arranged. After her cool years at Mercury she moved to Columbia. Imagine if Mitch Miller had produced Simon & Garfunkel or Dylan at Columbia! Way too many of Patti's Columbia albums were ghastly-produced to the point of gassy middle-aged back-up singers and saccharine arrangements. From there, she drifted comfortably into country-pop, which was the only place for any woman of her age to get any work at all.

Your download? Oh, no, you DO NOT get "Tennessee Waltz" or the other familiar 40's stuff from Readers Digest compilations. You can imagine (and probably don't want) the Anita Bryant-type and Doris Day-type stuff she did. What you get are six examples (from entire albums available) of why Patti Page is (unjustly denied the title of) America's greatest female vocalist. You wouldn't expect her to do a good job on:

The sophisticated Gershwin track "They All Laughed."
The country classic "I Fall to Pieces."
A typical Tony Bennett-type early 60's double-tracked pop single "Just a Simple Melody."
"The Twist."
The classic Cole Porter hooker ballad "Love For Sale."
One hell of a risk-taking gospel meltdown for "Motherless Child."

I've shaken hands and quipped with President Bill Clinton. I've been at parties with Rod Stewart and Elton John. I've had dinner with Batman (you can figure which one YOU think is the definitive actor in that part). I've been to Norman Mailer's place and spent an hour with Jim Carroll. Cool rockers, sexy superstars, and hip legends…I'm not exactly Piers Morgan but the list of celebs I've had contact with, from hours to lifelong friendships, is a pretty long one. The list does not exclude those who aren't "edgy." The book she autographed for me is on the shelf right next to the one signed by Jane Fonda. I treasure, warmly remember, and am so glad that I can say that I had a chance to meet Patti Page.



Six Examples of the Versatility of THE SINGING RAGE…Miss Patti Page Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

THE GREATEST LOVER OF THEM ALL - Mickey Press

Today, any idiot can be on YouTube and go nowhere. Any idiot can soil eMusic with a crappy album cobbled together with ProTools. And they end up in the the digital limbo they deserve…mere useless blips that most people don't even download for free. Why should anyone care when no care was taken in the recording? Knock something off for nothing and that's what it's worth.

Back in the vinyl era…you had to put your money where your microphone was. You hired the studio. You paid the musicians. You made sure what you did was worth investing in. You walked through the Brill Building with your demo. You sat in a manager's office or a producer's outer office, or stood in the sidewalk trying to sell your package to a stranger. (Uh, I think the latter was mostly on 42nd Street, several blocks from the Brill Building.)

With some luck and Payola, maybe your single got pressed. Even if you could only get interest from an indie label, there was a chance your tune could become a disc jockey favorite and the latest hit. Even if it didn't go anywhere, at least you made a real vinyl single! A piece of history! And if nothing happened, it was a family heirloom, maybe even a collectors item for some vinyl freak who's gotta have everything and thinks his hearse has a luggage rack.

I didn't know Mickey Press. I have no idea what his real name is. All I know is my father knew him, was given the indie single, and it was given to me. I've had this record for a long, long, long time. I remember also having a card with a photo of Mickey, declaring me an honorary member of the Mickey Press Fan Club. The record did get a review in Billboard, and probably some slight airplay. And it's a good bit of fake-Elvis. Meaning, Mickey Press turned in a performance well above "Conrad Birdie."

Whoever Mickey got to give that razzy-wow sax intro…and whoever charted the song…they gave him all they had, and the guy sang it with confidence. The lyrics are right down the pike, in keeping with the times, when swaggering rock n' rollers were winking about being poor little fools, and not quite towers of strength, and not always gettin' the girl they wanted even though they were so greasy and handsome and charismatic.

And so for the sixth anniversary of the blog of less renown, here's something that ain't been on the Net before, and is not on any of those "lost jukebox" compilations either.

My father died two months ago. Distinctly I remember. It was in the bleak December. He's now shelved in a very cold rectangle of cement in a mausoleum. With no records. No turntable. None of his possessions except the clothes he has on. Which I picked out to match the color of the casket. And this single....

Well...."Greatest Lover Of Them All," submitted for your approval, can be filed in the mausoleum of your external drive, under the great general category: "bid for immortality."

THE GREATEST LOVER OF THEM ALL by Mickey Press. A gift from my father. Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

FEMALE a cappella OXFORD BLUES do MADONNA & SHERYL CROW

The beauty of the human voice has led some people to believe that its purity is best heard without piano, guitar or other musical accompaniment. Sometimes a single sadist will stand up and start singing (Sinead O'Connor lost her hair doing this) but more often, a group is involved, creating a gangbang for the ears.

With rare exceptions (The Mills Brothers, for an example) a cappella has not been commercially successful. It's been pretty damn good (think of The Persuaions and "It's All Right") but not successful. And if it's been successful ("The King's Singers') it shouldn't have been. But sometimes…in some ways, it can be, to quote a David Seville b-side, "Almost good." And I'm glad that I found a CD by the Oxford Blues!

I found it despite the sloth I've felt in the past six years...as lazily downloading from blogs similar to mine replaced going to thrift shops and library sales. Why help the economy and pay so that somebody can still own a record store and be a magnet for weird old vinyl and oddball CDs when it's easy to just stay home and leech for free? Well, once in a while I find a surviving record store somewhere, or a thrift shop that still keeps a box of singles away from the mildewed floor, and one day I did rummage around, grab a fistful of oddball CDs, paid some poor wretch a buck each…and came away with some fun stuff including the Oxford Blues. And thought of YOU. And how you might like to hear a few tracks. And go on your own hunt again and buy and discover.

And to keep things fun, and not snarky (which is so hard for any blogger to resist) I will not, NOT make fun of an all-girl college a cappella glee club who combined vocals and menstrual cycles at Haverford College and pointlessly named themselves the "Oxford Blues" when they weren't at Oxford and never sang the blues. I won't say that Haverford College is located a good distance away from Philadelphia because Philadelphia insisted on it. I won't say that being in an a cappella choir is generally considered the best way of maintaining virginity.

I won't laugh at how late the "Oxford Blues" came into existence (1985) compared to Yale's poufter-esquely named Whiffenpoofs who have been pooffing away since 1909, or the all-female Smiffenpoofs (of Smith College, and I'm not making that name up) who began harmonizing in 1936. Nor will I lapse into faux-hipster rock critic lingo by trying to write out what this group sounds like as they attempt to mimic musical instruments on "Like a Prayer" and come up with: "Dang kidda dang! Oooooh! Ahhhhhhhh!" Nor will I make a lame joke about scat-singing being shitty. Gabba gabba hey! No, not ME.

Because I respect any singers that DO something. That take a chance. Seriously, there's something pretty sick (even for ill folks) about getting an evil kick out of enjoying (to the point of grand derisive laughter) the well intended failures of others. Here's two cuts from the 1997 CD, issued when Emily Dorean was the musical director for the "Oxford Blues." You'll hear soloist Sarah Byrne (class of '99) handling Madonna's Connie Francis-like opening to "Like a Prayer" before the rest of the choir kicks in. No way a cappella is entertaining? Way!


LIKE A PRAYER
Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

I SHALL BELIEVE

The Old Baby Farmer - Ladykiller Amelia Dyer via Derek Lamb

Sweeney Todd was a myth. But another mass murderer immortalized by the British Music Hall, was very real. Her name was Amelia Dyer.

She may be the most prolific serial-killer of all time. She's most definitely the worst female murderess in the history of the English-speaking world, and might only be rivaled by some historical figure such as Countess Bathory.

She killed babies. This is one reason why she hasn't had the "cult" appeal of such superstars as Charles Manson, Ed Gein, John Gacy, Richard Speck, or everyone's favorite, Jack the Ripper.

I knew nothing about her until my love of British Music Hall led me to an obscure Folkways album by a guy named Derek Lamb. Unlike, say, Ian Whitcomb, Peter Noone, or an authentic old-timer such as Stanley Holloway, Lamb didn't choose to guff-up his assortment of old tunes with Cockney brawling or Lionel Bart-ish camp and good cheer. He sang the numbers in a sincere, unassuming way. Might've been because he wasn't primarily a singer. He was an artist. Specialized in animation. You've seen his animation on those Edward Gorey drawings used on "Masterpiece Theatre" as hosted by Vinnie Price and Diana Rigg.

Lamb's album, out of print for many years, but now digitally available (and cheap, if you go to eMusic), is wonderful. From an eerie version of "Sweeney Todd" (first I'd heard of that fellow, too), to comical and droll numbers such as "Don't Cry Daddy," "Roll Tiddley Ole" and "The Hole in the Elephant's Bottom," it covers the scope of the Music Hall, in all its sentiment, ribaldry and, yes, pathos and horror.

The saga of the malicious, psychopathic baby farmer finally yielded a researched book by the appropriately named Allison Rattle (co-authored by Allison Vale), and Dyer's story was also featured in a one-hour episode of the "Ladykillers" British TV documentary series. "She was a bad woman, it is not disputed..." In other words, this baby farmer was no "Little Buttercup." Lamb's wistful rendition is probably quite different from how they sang it back when broadsheets accompanied Dyer to her hanging.

The late Mr. Lamb's wife, Tracie Smart, is also on eMusic with two unusual albums of rather stark and somber folk-rock. If you know Bridget St. John's work, you might want to get Smart. Just don't think you can grab something free off the Captain. He never heard of her. A few samples are on Tracie's website.



THE OLD BABY FARMER - the wretched MRS. DYER Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

Ill-ustrated Songs #21 - COMIN' ON BACK TO YOU

Among the many sublime little hippie-chick ditties out there, there's "Comin' On Back," barely two minutes on the obscure quadraphonic RCA album Carolyn Hester made in 1973. Billboard called it a "good mix of country, rock and folk from (the) veteran singer." It was, as rock critics love to say, an "eponymous" release (artist's name being the title). And in this nostalgic mood of the 6th anniversary of the blog, a little return to genteel "hippie dippie" thinking seemed like fun. Imagine, a chick who actually thinks of selling some newspapers to raise money to meet her man. What, she can't just steal 2000 eBooks and collect Fileserve spare change or get a blog and some Paypal donations??

Hester probably remains best known for being a Greenwich Village icon pre-Bob Dylan (at Club 47 among others) and for her pioneering connection to him: allowing Bob into the studio to play on her Columbia album before he was signed to the label. Though eclipsed by Bob, and by Joan Baez and Judy Collins among female folkies, the "Texas Songbird" was on vinyl as early as 1957, had already married (and divorced) a major player on the folk scene in Richard Farina, and as a symbol of the new era of folk music graced the cover of the "Saturday Evening Post" for May 30, 1964.

Her big albums of that era were "This Life I'm Living" (Columbia) and the two "Carolyn Hester at Town Hall" albums for Dot (re-issued on CD by Bear Family). Legend has it that Hester was so big, she turned down the chance to become part of a trio with Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey. The trio instead became "Peter Paul and Mary."

As folk music evolved from traditional to commercial, Hester's somewhat flinty delivery left her trailing the more pop-oriented ladies. She ended the 60's by marrying David Blume (he wrote The Cyrkle hit "Turn Down Day") and they worked on various projects together and individually, including albums on their own Outpost label. She made some attempts to adjust and update herself ("The Carolyn Hester Coalition" album featured a trendy cleavage-showing album cover…partially copped for the Photoshop job above). But by the 70's, with Carly and Ronstadt among the top sellers, the high-voiced Hester wasn't getting airplay. "Comin' On Back" in 1973 didn't bring her back. She's remained busy with solo tours, which included Blume as a side-man (he passed on in 2006).

Even now, when most sophisticated listeners are used to high voices (Kate Bush) and somewhat wayward ones (Iris Dement), there hasn't seemed to be enormous interest in Hester, and when people grab a Nanci Griffith album, they haven't added a Hester, thinking "I'd like more in Nanci's groove." At least Nanci Griffith and Carolyn Hester teamed up to sing "Boots of Spanish Leather" at the Bob Dylan 30th Anniverary show at Madison Square Garden back in 1992. In 1995 long-time hippies who'd finally couldn't patch the belt-drive on the turntable rejoiced at a double CD reissue of her Outpost material. Hester then issued the new "From These Hills" in 1999, a "Tom Paxton Tribute" in 2000, and her most recent album is a collaboration that includes her two daughters, Amy and Karla Blume: "We Dream Forever" (2009). All are available via mail order and can be ordered at her carolynhester.com website.

"Comin' on Home" remains outta print. But listen to the title cut, with its charming references to getting' by simply by selling alternative newspapers or finding someone to buy a patched-up waterbed. Back then, it was a sunny example of the still-naive way some hippies intended to live their lives…without stealing, selfishness, and without joining the Yuppies. Listening to it now, it's as evocative of the hippie scene of the late 60's and early 70's. While a minor part of the Hester legend, it's an introduction that may lead you to her folk era past, and to her contemporary CDs today.

CAROLYN HESTER's COMIN' ON BACK to YOU Instant download or listen on line. No capcha codes, wait time, or whines about paying for a premium account.

#6 and Six Years Ago Today - Illfolks in "The Village"

Six years ago, this blog arrived in "the village" of sharing. In honor of #6, a download of the original "Prisoner" theme by Ron Grainer. It was rejected as a little too weak for such a groundbreaking, dramatic new TV series. Ron re-scored it with dramatic counterpoint, ominous brass, and stunning shifts between a single melody and literal thunder.

In these half-dozen years, the copyright owner has emerged as The Prisoner, or, to use a Lennon song title, "Nigger of the World." Everyone recognizes now that Blacks, gays, Muslims and even illegal immigrants have rights...but Google and Hacktivists and greedheads don't believe copyright owners do. Copyright is not considered a human right, and people snigger at the very words "intellectual property." Having black skin could get you killed. Now, it's having an idea and asking to be paid for it. You're told: "Give it away free. If you don't, you'll be sorry! We won't let you win, you bastard!"

Marie Antoinette said "Let them eat cake," and what do songwriters hear? "Let them sell t-shirts." What do writers, photographers, artists hear? Some shit about "invent a new paradigm. What you do should be FREE." Recently, simple laws to block Russian thug websites and PirateBay from making huge profits off what they steal, got stalled because Google and other Internet giants (who make a fortune off all this) brainwashed the already brain-dead by declaring "war" against "censorship." Oh, that's what it is. A bunch of avowed "Pirates" want to steal, mock DMCA's (the polite "please cease and desist stealing from me, and gee, it would be nice if you don't re-up) and take royalties for their "hard work" in giving thing away, are lauded as freedom fighters. Jesus what a world, confusing "freedom" and "we want shit free."

Six years ago, "sharing" was the innocent word for what we were doing. Quickly, the power to have an Internet audience led to corruption, self-inflated stardom, inane rationalization, and warped philosophies about why taking somebody else's property without permission was a good thing. With music blogs and forums, it became a bonfire of vanities, with everyone gleefully tossing whole albums in FLAC out there, entire discographies, and even demands for Paypal donations and urgings to download so that the "hard work" could get rewarded with Rapidshare points, Megaupload money pay-outs, etc. etc. Good bloggers found themselves in the company of inane ones who turned their silly names into graffiti tags, over-posted like mad, made themselves out to be Gods of some kind or cool outlaws or hipsters (rather than fat, middle-aged nobodies) and their stubborn and dead-wrong behavior led to scorn and disgust from the music world.

"Sharers" insisted they did no harm, even as record stores folded and recording artists good and bad, from Joni Mitchell to Lee DeWyse got kicked off their labels due to low sales. The domino effect meant everyone from secretaries to janitors got the boot, and thriving offices that employed hundreds and thousands of people (not just greedy CEO's and nasty rich songwriters and singers) were headed for the dole. The utter madness continued, nastier and nastier, with "here's my re-up, here's my new blog, let's make sure the bastards don't win." What bastards? The Beatles? The indie band that just put out their first album and went $50,000 in debt to do it?

Let's quote from the Doubleday book "Free Ride," by Robert Levine. Or rather, the quote from it published in Rolling Stone, November 24 2011: "At what point did free music become a social cause? If artists want to give away their music, that's great. They just shouldn't have to do it when they don't want to." Oh. Well, then again, Mr. Levine, you probably know your book is being given away via eBook and mobi and you're being told to rationalize "the people who stole it wouldn't have bought it" and "get yourself a new paradigm" and "so what if the advance you got was minimum wage in terms of the time it took to write it, and your royalty check will be a joke."

We have since discovered that Kim Schmitz, a professional conman, was making $100,000 a day with Megaupload. What happened when he was jailed? People mourned. They wept. Nevermind that Schmitz, who smugly changed his name to "Dotcom" and was the richest man in the country, could've given us all premium accounts FREE. Instead we paid him, at the same time we stiffed artists and grunted that maybe, MAYBE we'd buy a whole CD if the download was a dollar or two. Somehow Megaupload wasn't a sleazy corporation run by a crook, just Sony.

No no, Herr Kim and his mob weren't evil manipulative corrupt bastards like the suits at Sony, targeted instantly with silly trick-or-treat "denial of service" website attacks. No, no, Fuhrer Schmitz wasn't perceived as evil as the CEO of McDonalds, Burger King, Tesco, Wal-Mart or Nike or Coke or the other places nobody protests and everybody visits. No, let's all scapegoat the companies that we can rip off with anonymous downloading, and don't do any "occupy Wall Street" tactics in front of Burger King...even if the employees there barely get minimum wage while the CEO's make a bundle. Hacktivists who happily block a corporate website for daring to stand up for their legal rights, wouldn't even ring the doorbell of a Tesco exec and run.

Kim Dotcom somehow deserved $100,000 a day? 99% of it built on getting paid for what he was stealing?

Who is The Prisoner now? It's the copyright owner. But the "village" is bigger than that. Generated by the writers, actors, musicians, the "village" is in danger, too. Sure, George Clooney is rich. But the staff on a movie set are not. So what happens. Clooney's movie is given away on every torrent. He still gets a fortune and his CEO's do. But union members get laid off, and the grips, the make-up assistants, the guys who shlep scenery…don't get work because the jobs are farmed out to Canada or Romania somewhere, and staffed by minimum-wagers, just like the ones at the Nike and Apple factories in China. California movie union people are as screwed as guys picking lettuce in a field in Barstow. It goes overseas. Or not at all; notice how few movies are being made. How few TV shows. How few albums. It's reality shows, cheap cartoons and a bunch of rap assholes using auto-tune and ProTools. "Find a new paradigm."

The Prisoner rails about being pushed around. But over his head comes the laughter of "Number Two" (the shit-head with the graffiti name tag he uses for his re-ups, his blog, his Torrent posts, etc.) laughing and saying, "You are NOT a free man!" But, heh heh heh...the movie you made, the novel you wrote, the song you sang. That's free!"

Yes, "sharing" has changed quite a bit from what it was six years ago. Somebody else might post every "Prisoner" soundtrack album. Over here, and not in FLAC, is the fairly obscure original "Prisoner" theme. A "share" that's more like jaywalking than attempted murder.

ORIGINAL PRISONER THEME by RON GRAINER Instant download.

GEORGE JONES - I'VE AGED TWENTY YEARS IN FIVE

This is the anniversary of the Illfolks blog.

"And so it was," (to borrow Mr. Brooker's towering voice for a moment) that since 2006, on the 9th, 19th and 29th of every month, unusual and often obscure music began turning up here. Five solid years of music. Some folks even noticed:

"Highly original blog; obscure pop/folk/indie/retro cuts/mixes of all sorts; a real smorgasbord" (Gravybread) and "...Weird and wacky and a lot of underappreciated stuff. Mostly oldies from all kinds of genres…." (Totally Fuzzy) and "So many ill folks, so little time - great neglected artists, celebrity recordings, themed collections, the occasionally weird, & more." (Youdonthavetovisit). Some artists left encouraging remarks, and there's been individual perception from a small circle of music fans and angels of the odd. But, enough looking back on what's happened here since February 19th of 2006.

The choice of celebratory song is "I've Aged Twenty Years in Five," because it's a funny title, not because the blog has driven me to drink. George Jones is offering a drinking song here, and whatever's happened to me in the past five years, good or bad, has not been the result of reckless usage of spirits fermenti, or such vices as smoking, doing illegal drugs, or consuming animals that walk the planet same as I do. George isn't exactly your typical Illfolks "unknown," but he gets sampled here because he's not nearly as respected as he should be. Frank Sinatra thought him the greatest singer in America (except for a guy named Frank Sinatra). George is a too traditional C&W for some tastes (abetted by musical arrangements that often include a squeamy violin) but his phrasing on ballads is hard to beat, and like Jolson he got better as he got older. He also has a good sense of humor. Which means "He Stopped Loving Her Today" and "Wino the Clown" are balanced by "White Lightning" a "No Show Jones."

George has had some health problems lately, but what can you expect? If he's aged twenty years in five, the guy is actually about 395 years old.

I'VE AGED TWENTY YEARS IN FIVE

THE ROCK

As previously mentioned (see BORDERS' SONG) whether it's global warming, or over-population, or abuses of human rights or even animal rights, nobody's listening.

It would easy to point a finger at the greedy landlords who raise the rent on the poor, Joni Mitchell's army of "short-sighted businessmen" who strip mine the land and pollute the rivers, or the religious fanatics who believe their way is the only way, or the politicians who pander to special interests and maintain the status quease. But we see that the Internet has turned into a nightmare of cyberbullying and selfishness, and several monopolies have risen to break laws and make billionaires out of punks with no morality. The blog and torrent world's gone from an eccentric "sharing" community to a spammy, smarmy, selfish assortment of glory-grabbing Paypal-demanding fools who rationalize the unthinkable and have no empathy for the creative people they rip off. Their power has corrupted, and their notion that everything should be free spits in the face of all the logic that says that an economy thrives on paying for goods and services.

It's reasonable to expect moderation…some form of gun control, some acceptance of birth control, some responsibility about replenishing our natural resources, some realization that piracy is not the answer and that taking what doesn't belong to you is nothing to be proud of. Selfishness rules, not the Golden Rule. The bigger they are, the less they care, and the more unreasonable they become. People are pleading for simple human rights, for copyright protection, for a job and a place to live that is safe from violence. They might as well talk to a wall.

"The Rock" is a little story song about someone who sees a problem and can't convince anyone to do anything about it.

The solution is so simple we ignore it. It's the Golden Rule. It's empathy. It's moderation. It's using self-control or the arm of the law to curb the all-too human instincts of greed and power.

Harry? He's here on the blog of less renown because despite having a hit song or two, he's largely forgotten now, and was often the target of critics who hated his story-songs, his sentimentality, and his passionate views on morality. Face it, even his biggest hit, "Cats in the Cradle," makes people uncomfortable, because…well, the truth tends to make people uncomfortable.

Some of his fellow musicians weren't so wild about Harry either, frowning on the whole concept of the "story song," or complaining about the man's voice, which did become increasingly harsh thanks to his heavily committed touring schedule. I was hanging out with Meatloaf one evening, and he scowled that one of the things he really didn't like, was when people compared his voice to Harry's.

Harry himself knew that he often went way too far with his pathos, and sold "Harry, It Sucks" t-shirts at his gigs. But at his best, he wrote some touching, moving songs. Thankfully, when he was around, he had a record label that stuck with him long after the hits weren't coming. I'd heard of him, but hadn't paid much attention till a woman handed me one of his albums and asked me to listen. She figured if I liked some folkies, like Mr. Ochs, I might find a place in my heart for Harry. She had an ulterior motive. A song on the album was "A Better Place to Be," and she said she identified with the waitress, and what she said to the man at the diner: "I wish that you were mine." And she was looking at me when she said it.

Harry sure had a way of getting to people. I saw Harry in performance, and it was one of the best concerts I ever saw, because the man was an exuberant showman. As good as some existing footage of him might be, it doesn't remotely capture what it was like "being there." In person, he almost sent out microwaves. Some people really come alive on stage, and the energy ignites the audience, and vice versa. Believe me, I walked in expecting Harry to do a competent show as everyone from Ian Dury to Ray Davies can do, and was not expecting to walk out buzzed or blown away. So Harry surprised me.

While you could sit alone and be touched by a song like "Mr. Tanner," or enjoy a story with a wicked punchline such as "The Mayor of Candor Lied" (I'm not ashamed to say I didn't see that one coming), this guy could also work magic of a different kind in live concert. Aside from being a performer, and a very good songwriter, and a fair vocalist, Harry was a humanitarian. On the day he died, the 39 year-old was as always, in the midst of a heavy schedule of activities…phone calls and promotions for his "World Hunger" organization, driving into town for meetings, and mindful of a scheduled free concert in the evening. He saw a lot of problems, small and intimate ones between people, are large ones involving countries and corporations. Depending on the target, he could be tender and patient, or strident and urgent. There are boulders in our paths, cinders in our eyes, and sometimes a teetering rock on a hillside. Who recognizes these, or becomes convinced that action must be taken, or takes that step from being part of the problem to part of the solution?

THE ROCK

Ill-ustrated Songs #20: FROM THE INDIES TO THE ANDIES IN HIS UNDIES

It's taken a while, but finally, here's a sample of The Hoosier Hot Shots. They're a kind of lost link between Spike Jones and Homer & Jethro. They were not quite as tetched and eccentric as Jones (despite some fierce use of the slide whistle, washboard and car horn). Their tendency to go for hee-haws rather than laughs has also marked them "for corn lovers only," but a lot of their stuff is mighty fine mental moonshine. "I Like Bananas Because They Have No Bones" is a classic, but it's not as inspiring for a startling visual image as "From the Indies to the Andies In His Undies." I tried not to be TOO startling. (PS, "Andies" is how they chose to spell "Andes." You can see it for yourself if you buy Columbia's CD collection "Rural Rhythm") )

The song opens, as it so often does, with brother "Rudy" Trietsch giving a shout-out to brother "Hezzie" Trietsch. Are you ready? Can it still get a laugh? You should trietsch some time.

"He carried for a charm a kippered herring.
To protect him when the tropic sun was glaring.
Whoever met him thought he needed airing…"

From the INDIES to the ANDIES in his UNDIES

ARRIVEDERCI HANS - Laura Lynn & RITA PAVONE

Sometimes a blog entry really doesn't need a commentary. A photo and a link will do fine.

Laura Lynn's one of the latest schlagers to slog through the Arrivederci to Hans.




Perhaps freckled, sassy Rita Pavone sang the definitive version...

....which (check the comments) had been incorrectly attributed to Caterina Valente.




ARRIVEDERCI HANS - LAURA LYNN

ARRIVEDERCI HANS - RITA PAVONE

BORDERS SONG - Sung by Aretha, Writ by Elton

"Holy Moses, I have been removed…" In filing for bankruptcy, the Borders book chain will be removing 6,000 jobs, and shutting down 200 stores.

"Holy Moses, I have been deceived…" they're the latest bunch deceived into thinking what worked for the past century would still work now.

For over 100 years, creative artists could make a living by selling recordings, having a career on radio, photographing or writing or editing for periodicals, or writing books.

I've been involved in all the above, and I can tell you that it was never easy, and now it's almost impossible.

"Now the wind has changed direction. I think I have to leave…"

Remember when people said music sharing doesn't hurt anyone? Then Tower Records went bankrupt and CD sales plummeted, and sales of legit mp3 music leveled off. Remember when they said torrents pumping out movies and warez wouldn't hurt anybody? Blockbuster video filed for bankruptcy as did Circuit City, and there have been less movies made, less choice in electronics, and fewer TV programs that aren't cheaply produced "reality" fare, quizzes, or dumb talent contests.

While Amazon relentlessly pushed their Kindle, we were told it was "good" for the publishing industry. Instead, newspapers and magazines have gone under and advances for books are a joke. Used book and magazine stores began to disappear as soon as pdf versions became easy to download of forums and Google began digitizing entire libraries. Has Amazon hired all the talented bookstore personnel now out of work? No, they don't need 'em. They already have enough minimum-wage people putting toasters and blenders into boxes...and shipping them via UPS while the U.S. Post Office runs further into debt and post offices around the country are closing.


"He's my brother…let us live in peace."

No, if your brother's a songwriter, a photographer, a magazine editor, a singer, a novelist…then he's the nigger of the world, and he should do his work for free, and if he objects or stands up for his rights, he should be whipped. If he was the honest working man who ran a bookstore or worked in a record store he can go fight with an immigrant for a job washing floors somewhere.

Mp3 files, avi, pdf etc. are easy to duplicate and toss to the great army of "zero should pay." One copy sold, ten copies stole'd. Marie Antoinette said "let them eat cake." Today, it's "let them sell t-shirts." Or "what the (movie, publishing, record) industry needs is a new paradigm." This, coming from people who don't have an idea what that paradigm might be, and aren't in those industries.

Let's also remember people out of work because their jobs were connected to the industries hit hard by piracy. For example, the Sony CD pressing plant in Pitman, New Jersey that was shuttered...it also affected the mom and pop diner that relied on those workers to buy breakfasts and lunches. Also destroyed, the take-out places that brought in coffee and donuts. Cleaning people who served that factory are out, too. As you could read, free, at worldtvpc.com, the factory closure meant "300 employees out of work….There’s no question that iTunes and piracy have helped to kill off the CD….the piracy culture that started way back during the Napster era has flourished, and now people have an even more difficult time swallowing the price of a CD." Apple doesn't need to hire those 300 people to process mp3 files for download, they have a small staff that handles it easily.

Which brings me to the photo of Elisha Cook Jr, which movie buffs will recognize as a climactic moment from "House on Haunted Hill." His character in the film knows that he is going to be destroyed. His pursuit of happiness is over. He speaks the reality: "They're coming for me now…AND THEY'LL COME FOR YOU."

If you're a retired teacher or union man, you might find your pension shaved down. If you're young and want to go to college, or old and want social security, you'll find a small government check that doesn't pay for tuition or a new comforter for the bed. As the domino effect continues, because "we want free" means less money going into the economy and more people fired, you may lose your job and be treated with the same scorn and indifference as the workers from Tower, Blockbuster or Borders.

"...AND THEY'LL COME FOR YOU."

The anonymous Internet that we love so much, which gives us the opiate of free downloads of music, movies, warez and books and magazines…is the same faceless, soulless place that will cyberbully you, steal your identity, invade your privacy, and swindle you with impunity. In the past you could talk to a store owner, but you can't talk to someone at eBay or Paypal or Google. The faceless Wikileaks people who so heroically expose secrets…may choose to expose yours. If they don't somebody on Facebook might. These are anonymous people who think nobody has a right to remain anonymous - except themselves.

At one time, progress didn't mean destruction. The factory that made 8-tracks simply made cassettes. The factory that made cassettes simply made CD's. But now an mp3 blip and an avi speck are so innately worthless you can't re-sell 'em on eBay for a penny. There are people who say we should have no laws regulating the Internet, no rules, no moderation. They don't want borders on the Net. And hey, there's 200 less Borders in real life. The chain will probably shutter completely in a year. Maybe the stores will reopen as Starbucks…but not everyone will be able to afford a cup of coffee there. Many can't afford it right now. Holy Moses!
BORDER SONG by ARETHA Listen on line or download…no pop-ups, pop-unders, Paypal donation request or wait time extortion.

AL HIRT - THE GREEN HORNET THEME

In another time (1964, to be exact), instrumentals were often million-sellers. Al Hirt scored a Top Ten with "Java," and won a Grammy Award. Two years later, he gave the performance of his career with the gut-busting lip-blistering "Flight of the Bumblebee," jazzed up as the theme for the TV series "The Green Hornet."

That show failed, perhaps because "Batman" (also on ABC) was so campy and the Hornet was dull by comparison. Besides, we'd already seen a guy in a mask with an ethnic sidekick: "The Lone Ranger." The Ranger's creators (George Trendle and Fran Striker) simply figured a modern-day urban version could diversify their portfolio. They even made Hornet Britt Reid a distant relative to the old Ranger John Reid, when the show premiered on radio in the 30's.

The theme song outlasted the TV series, and was used on the soundtrack for "Kill Bill." Today, with a new attempt at "The Green Hornet" in theaters, the character as originally played on TV by Van Williams is a hazy memory…but the theme song by Al Hirt still has some sting.

Hirt was a big star throughout the 60's (literally, too) but had a setback in 1970 when some fan, just having fun, used him for target practice during a Mardi Gras parade. Hirt was on a float, playing his trumpet, when he was hit by a flying object that nearly tore his lip off. Fortunately Al was able to recover, but by that time, tastes had changed and instrumentals, as well as "middle of the road" performers, were not part of the Top 20 AM radio scene.

Hirt retained his title of "King," mostly because he was the last of the line, with no other trumpet player about to come along and have hit records. For most any kid learning trumpet, the role model was Al Hirt…as opposed to big band guys such as Harry James or Louis Armstrong. The only other guy out there was Doc Severinsen, who led "The Tonight Show Band" and made comic, near cross-eyed expressions after hitting a high note. As I struggled to hit an E above high C, I did marvel at those notes Doc hit…but more the dexterity of Al Hirt…whom I also couldn't match with my sticky-valved trumpet and underdeveloped embouchure. Finding myself sounding more like bugler Gunga Din just after being shot, I decided to take up instruments that didn't require oral contact. And yes, I can play "Flight of the Bumblebee" damn well on any of 'em. As for the trumpet, I no longer try and will not be Hirt.

AL HIRT "GREEN HORNET THEME" STEREO

AL HIRT "ORIGINAL TV SOUNDTRACK" MONO

ALIVE AT NINETY-FOUR: ZSA ZSA GABOR + DION

On February 6th, the unlikely happened: Zsa Zsa Gabor reached her 94th birthday. If you haven't been following the Paris Hilton of the geriatric set, Hollywood's original celebutard was counted out back in 2002 after a car crash, and in 2005 after suffering a stroke. She had the obit writers ready to roll after more surgery in 2007, and then hip replacement in the summer of 2010 (a procedure that killed Eddie Fisher). Complications from the surgery were so severe Zsa Zsa asked for last rites. She was in and out of danger, but back in the hospital in January of this year, ultimately requiring the amputation of her right leg above the knee.

Now she's home, and before anything else happens, it's time to give a little celebration of her life, rather than a eulogy and the typical Illfolks "obit with music."

For some of us, Zsa Zsa Gabor has always been a benign, sexy joke. Yes, she made a few movies that had or still have some critical or cult appeal. She was a hit in "Moulin Rouge," though her musical voice was dubbed by black opera singer Muriel Smith. Gabor was also in Orson Welles' "Touch of Evil," and the campy "Queen of Outer Space" among others. She showed a sense of humor on sitcoms, variety shows, and course as a guest villain on "Batman." Way before "bad girls" became the norm, there was Zsa Zsa, slapping a cop in 1989 during a traffic dispute. But she was best known for chattering on talk shows, mostly about the joys of sex, being rich, and marrying nine times, including George Sanders and Paris's grandfather Conrad Hilton. She's currently wed to some lunatic named Prince Frederic von Anhalt.

Back in her heyday, Gabor managed to get almost as much face-time in fan mags as her much more accomplished contemporaries such as Elizabeth Taylor and Brigitte Bardot. She was name-checked by, among others, Spike Jones (in "Knock Knock," on the "Music America Hates Best" album), Allan Sherman (Joshua and the Battle of Jericho morphed into Zsa Zsa and a bottle of Geritol) and Dion and the Belmonts in "Donna the Prima Donna."

So what do we have now? Nothing much. Lindsay Lohan, the Kardashian idiots, and Paris Hilton are all very cheap and tawdry by comparison. None's come up with a quotable line, or have Gabor's cheerful panache. As slutty as Gabor may have been, you never realized it, because she did it with...class! Vocally, if you're desperate for the Zsa Zsa sound, you'll find it burbling from the gullet of Arriana Huffington. Arriana is not Hungarian, though, she's Greek, and her scandals have merely involved complaints of plagiarism for writing bios that copied material written by others. Though she followed Zsa Zsa's lead in marrying a millionaire mostly for his money (he turned out to be bisexual), Arriana will most likely never come close to Gabor's list of marriages and discards. Gabor was an original, which is why, 20 years after she bitch-slapped a cop and 40 years after she could be called a MILF, people are saddened by her illnesses and her decline gets almost as much news as the latest Lindsay Lohan court appearance.

So while most end up with "the girl next door," here's a salute to the one and only (all right, it's time to sneak in a mention of wonderful sister Eva), ZSA ZSA GABOR….sing it, Dion:


"I remember the nights we dated,always acting sophisticated,
Talking about high society,
Then she tried to make a fool out of me...
She always wears charms, diamonds, pearls galore,
She buys them at the 5 & 10 cents store.
She wants to be just like Zsa Zsa Gabor,
Even though she's the girl next door…"

Dion mispronounced Gabor's name as "Za Za" in the original single, but below you get a 2009 bootleg from a Connecticut concert, in which he corrects it to "Zsa Zsa…"

Hear the 2009 live boot:

DONNA The PRIMA DONNA - who wanted to be just like Zsa Zsa Gabor.

POLLUTION! Tom Lehrer in German: VERSCHMUTZUNG

There's a lot of schmutz in the world!

In the years since Tom Lehrer sang "Pollution" on TV's short-lived "That Was The Week That Was," nominal efforts to clean some rivers or recycle some of our garbage have been overwhelmed by short-sighted pigs destroying this overpopulated planet.

No polar bears, tigers or oysters in 50 years? Who's to say the human race will be around in 50 years? Oil spills are as toxic and common as Kardashians. You can spot islands of garbage floating in our oceans as if they're franchises of Taco Bell.

While a city dweller may breathe in the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes a day in air pollution, his country cousin isn't doing much better thanks to coal mines and factories as well as chicken farms and pig farms. Nobody seemed to care when 20 million gallons of hog shit ended up in a river in North Carolina, but even backward states that used to have plenty of room are no longer havens for simple pursuits such as squirrel shooting, armed robbery and rape. Many rural residents are suffering cancers and finding less fresh air and water because of stupid and/or crooked politicians overlooking obvious menaces. A giant pig farm oozing shit and blood into streams and lakes is a problem even a moronic lazy rebel should find offensive.

Remember the last Olympic games? People were much more concerned over China cheating with underage gymnasts, than they were with China's horrendous pollution putting a literal pall over every stadium and event. Some athletes could barely function in that environment. But that's better left unsaid, and unsung. It's been many, many years since Lehrer sang "Polllution" and Joni Mitchell pointed out the paving of paradise or grumbled "short sighted businessmen…nothing lasts for long." Well, why should we be surprised that obnoxious greed-heads turn their backs on pollution or global warming and say it doesn't exist? We have bloggers with Paypal donations and websites decrying every copyright owner's DMCAs, sneering: "Nobody can prove that "sharing" hurts the economy or the artists."

What can one do, except put on a skull-like grin and wait for the end of the world? Germans, so noted for a dark, gross, (if not Grosz) sense of humor, are enjoying the fiercely acidic and cheerfully pessimistic works of Tom Lehrer thanks to an album of translations by pianist-singer Felix Janosa (he's in the photo above, in a hat I hope he realizes is comical). Let's face it, Tom's works do sound even more menacing in German!

"You're right," Max Prendergast said to Emma Peel, "it is a rather brutal language."

Janosa's German-language versions of Lehrer lieder are often funny even if you don't speak the language. Lehrer isn't given enough credit for catchy tunes that are in fact comic parodies. "Masochism Tango" is tangier than its inspiration, "Kiss of Fire," "Vatican Rag" is more relentlessly cheerful than anything Scott Joplin did, and there's no calypso that flaunts its vulgarity as fiercely as "Pollution," here titled "Verschmutzung." So wipe the schmutz out of your ears and give a listen...


FELIX JANOSA:
POLLUTION - TOM LEHRER in german VERSCHMUTZUNG

La Puta Christina Aguilera Throttles the National Anthem

Any publicity is good publicity. When was the last time Christina Aguilera mattered? Once you show your cooch, that's it. What else can you do? Rolling Stone (Feb 3, 2010, page 18) said her "Gaga-style makeover didn't work - and neither did her movie (Burlesque) or tour (it was cancelled)." In other words, has-been Aguilera could barely manage a dumb gig like singing the National Anthem. Fortunately, she blew it, and became front page news.

Everyone's been howling over Christina's foul-up. Joyce Chen in the Daily News: "Wardrobe malfunction? More like warble malfunction." As if Chen is perfect? She reported on Christina's final note held "for just over six seconds in her trademark guttaral growl." GUTTARAL? Speaking of typos, a mere hour after Aguilera seared everyone's ears, the USA Today website rushed to report it…and spelled her last name wrong:



Here's the truth: the rage over Christina Aguilera has little to do with her memory lapse. Many didn't even notice that she sang words from another line over again and made up some stuff: ""Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, what so proudly we watched at the twilight's last reaming." So? She forgot "o'er the ramparts we watched?" What's this bitch know about "ramparts?" Except her parents probably ate them along with goat balls.

Most of us would have trouble memorizing that song, and most of us can't sing along to it. The lyrics aren't helped along by the dodgy, octave-lurching stolen tune, the drunken British "Anacreontic Song" (you can hear it below.)

No, the fury is not really about Christina dis-honoring the song by forgetting a line, but by her ethnic over-emoting...that hackneyed Whitney Car-Alarm Houston style of braying. Everyone howled at her because of the lyric lapse because it's just not politically correct to complain that adding ten syllables where there should be one, is tiresome, moronic and in the case of "The Star Spangled Banner," an insult. We wouldn't expect a redneck hillbilly to yodel our anthem, and we'd be allowed to call that person "white trash" if it happened, but critics couldn't say "Christ, Christina and her black-influenced pseudo-soul vibrato and syllable extensions suck." So they could only flog her for messing up a few words...a gleeful excuse for what they really disliked...the unspeakable sin of monkeying around with the melody. Simple words like "night" and "wave" shouldn't be tormented vocally like a child twisting a worm and then pulling it apart. PS, singing a line loud and long (as Streisand and Garland did) is also a very poor substitute for conveying a lyric's emotions.

If you showed up at a Beethoven festival, invited to play the "Moonlight Sonata," and you did it in reggae style, or played it on a bent saw or a collection of half-full bottles, you'd be disrespecting the memory of Beethoven. If you're in concert, and you feel like doing your own interpretation or butchery, fine…you're doing it on your own time in front of your own audience. Otherwise…do it THE RIGHT WAY.

PS, "The Star Spangled Banner" should not be sung at stupid events. Who the fuck said that before two teams of millionaires play a game — a GAME — we need to hear about how our flag managed not to get destroyed by gunfire during one lousy battle in one of our country's many, many wars? How about boxing matches? Some guy from America fights some guy from another country…and the national anthems are sung (badly) just to incite the fans toward racial hatred! This is a sports event between two men, not some symbolic battle over whose country is best.

Lastly, if a patriotic song HAS to be sung, hire an inspiring presence. I think of Ronan Tynan, who stands up…on artificial legs…to sing "God Bless America" at stadium events. I think of the late Robert Merrill and his great version of the "Star Spangled Banner" at baseball games. He brought opera-style singing to people who'd never know it otherwise, and his is probably the best version of the song ever recorded. We don't need our national anthem to be an "American Idol" event where the more inappropriate syllables you add, the more street cred you're supposed to get.

Here now, the "Anacreontic Song" and its sobered-up sister, "The Star Spangled Banner." Why even bother with a download of Christina's performance? Because it justifies the rant above, and it could be useful if you've run out of Haley's M.O. or Syrup of Ipecac. You can follow along on the lines YOU don't know by heart either:

"Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming?

Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?

AGUILERA NATIONAL ANTHEM 2011

John Gower - THE ANACREONTIC SONG, original music later used for Key's poem "The Star Spangled Banner."

DAVID FRYE - 1934-2011 Nixon's Worst Enemy

Just how obscure was David Frye when he died? The news wasn't made public for nearly a week. The New York Times broke the news today, in their Saturday, January 29th edition: "David Frye...died on Monday in Las Vegas, where he lived. He was 77. The cause was cardiopulmonary arrest, a spokeswoman for the Clark County coroner’s office in Nevada said." No publicist, no manager, no friends, no wife to report the news? It comes from the coroner's office?

I have no idea whether Frye was actually working in Vegas lately, or what minor venue it may have been. All I can really tell you about the guy, is that he was extremely intense, even by the standards of a nightclub comic, and at his peak of fame when he should've been blazing with confidence, he'd sometimes pause on the talk show couch, grab for photos in his inside jacket pocket, and have to see a celebrity's face to psych himself to do an impression. He seemed to have no personality when he wasn't doing the voices, but when he was on stage, he was a powerful performer satiric and acidic. He was manic when he launched into his furious Nixon, his clownish LBJ, a Porky Pig-like Hubert Humphrey or a slithery, glowing-eyed William F. Buckley Jr., contorting his face to match the vocal.

Frye's star dimmed 37 years ago…his last major album was "Richard Nixon: A Fantasy" in 1973. Your sample below is from that album, an incredibly brutal kick when Nixon was down, which envisioned him jailed and on death row! If it was any consolation, Ted Kennedy's recent scandal was treated with even more gleeful venom. What a masterpiece of "gone too far" comedy that record was. Oddly enough, there's still so much interest in Nixon that Frye's two Elektra albums have been re-issued on CD, and his "Fantasy" also re-issued, just re-titled "He's Back: David Frye Is Nixon," which no doubt hoodwinked some who already had the vinyl into buying it again, thinking it was a new release.

Frye's bad luck was to see Nixon disappear, replaced by a succession of bland Presidents that were much more suited to a sappy mild mimic like Rich Little. Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, Ronald Reagan…they kept Rich Little rich while Frye's heat turned ice cold. Frye issued an indie Reagan album in 1980 that went nowhere. In 1998, when everybody imitated Bill Clinton, Frye issued a pointless comedy CD on a small indie label. By then few cared about comedy audio, and they could get their fix of Clinton via a look-alike on Leno's show, and Darrell Hammond on "Saturday Night Live." If David did either George H. or George W, there's literally no record of it on CD or mp3.

Las Vegas is a place where fat-asses with long memories go to see people they remembered from 30 years ago. That would explain Wayne Newton, wouldn't it? A lot of comics who became popular in the 60's stayed active there, in some small room or other, and a tourist might be delighted to check a Vegas newspaper and discover he could see Pete Barbutti or Shecky Greene. So I'm assuming David moved to Vegas and used it as his base, able to get some bookings there when there were none to be had in the gradually decreasing nightclubs around the country. Fact is, nightclubs ceased to be lucrative for even a Don Rickles or Bob Newhart, forcing them to play casinos or stay home.

David Frye's YouTube channel turned up only a few months ago. The site says he joined on November 6, 2010. Up went some clips from 3 decades ago. I don't think David actually was posting this stuff himself, because I noticed a YouTube notation that he logged in "1 day ago" when I visited today, January 29th. And David died January 24th.

I hope he wasn't looking at his YouTube page too closely, and seeing some of the "compliments" left for him. Imagine how he felt reading David Snyder of Buffalo New York open with: "If you've ever done Phil Silvers, you'll understand this: "Glad to see ya!" Uh, yeah, a comedian likes nothing better than to be greeted by another comic's catch phrase. Not to mention the fact that Frye was noted for doing politicians and intense actors, not has-been top bananas from the 50's. Snyder ended: "pleased that you're still alive and active." Why that's just what any performer in his 70's would love to hear: "You're still alive!" Sorry it's no longer true.

DAVID FRYE does a Folsom Prison/Johnny Cash on RICHARD NIXON

JACK "JIMMY OLSEN" LARSON DIDN'T SING "ROACHES"

For TV fans, there's only one Jack Larson, the personable actor who played Jimmy Olsen on "Superman" in the 50's.

But what about those dusty 45's that say "Jack Larson" on the label? Haven't record stores jacked the price to $20 or $30 because "It's the guy from "Superman?" Didn't the album notes for the CD "Hollywood Hi-Fi" include "Roaches" and state it was sung by the actor from the "Superman" show?? Yes! Yes! Which only proves that the average record seller is a dope, and not everyone who writes album notes does research.

Illfolks exposes the truth. There are TWO guys named Jack Larson, a robust young singer and a mildly husky-voiced actor. While people often talk one way and sing another (Jim Nabors comes to mind), anyone hearing "Jack Larson" sing would instantly have to doubt if it was the same guy who played Jimmy Olsen. Here's the facts...

In 1959, Fraternity Records released a single by Jack Larson, a year after "Superman" left the air. Larson the actor was born in 1928 and was 30 when the show ended its run in 1958. So how could Jack Larson be marketed as a teen idol? He couldn't and wasn't. You can bet if actor Larson suddenly began singing, he would've capitalized on his "Jimmy Olsen" fame, and all the books about Superman and George Reeves would've mentioned his foray into music. They don't.

Let's check Billboard, August 24, 1959. There's an article about "the signing of Jack Larson singer-impressionist of the U.S. Army's "Rollin' Along" show, to a six-year management and recording pact." No mention of "Superman." The article continues: "Larson, who for two years in a row was voted the No. 1 talent in the Army show, had his initial release on the Frat label last week, a novelty tune titled "Roaches." Flip is "Little Miss Starry Eyes." He opens for Lee Zeiger at the Casino Royal in Washington, Monday night…Larson is also set for a spot on Ed Sullivans' all-Army show August 30. He winds up his Army hitch Tuesday…"

The singing Larson was given many a chance at Fraternity. Following Roaches/Little Miss Starry Eyes, there was the 1960 release Autumn Hurt/Drifting Down the River, and in 1961 two attempts. First came "Hammer Bell Song" (a variation on "If I Had a Hammer") backed with the novelty "The Way She Laughs," which has the lines: "I don’t know what’s the matter with this heart of mine, I’m in love with a girl that looks like Frankenstein”

Jack's second single for 1961 was "Back to School Blues" (b/w Lonely Part of Town) which was the number he sang in the 1961 movie "Teenage Millionaire." After one more single for Fraternity in 1962 ("The Beauty"), Jack got a brief major label deal with Dot, issuing Do Yourself a Favor/We're Goin' Back. My research leads me to the Billboard issue of April 7th, 1962, when the deal was announced:

Article title: "Dot to Release some Fraternity Album and Singles Record Product." And the details: "Fraternity's president, Harry Carlson, announced his deal with Randy Wood of Dot. The idea was for the indie label to get better distribution…Carlson, whose Fraternity label began operation in 1954, will retain his rights to the Fraternity tag, but two of his top artists, comedian-singer Jack Larson and the Charmaines, femme trio, will also appear on the Dot label. Two singles, one by Larson…and another by the Charmaines….will be released by Dot around mid-April…The lot of the smaller independent record firm is becoming increasingly difficult and the sale of the album catalog to Dot is the only thing that made it possible for the Fraternity label to continue in business….Some Fraternity titles, including a few of Larson's, were released in the UK on the Top Rank label…."

Young Larson's last memorable show biz moment came in November of 1963, when he deliberately sang off key and did hack comic impressions on a "Dick Van Dyke Show" episode called "Big Max Calvada."



Sheldon Leonard played the title character, a gangster who is seeking a nightclub booking for his nephew, talent-challenged entertainer Kenny Dexter (played by Jack Larson, Illfolks screen captures to your right).

So there you have it. You read it here first, at Illfolks. The "Hollywood Hi-Fi" CD issued a few years ago, with liner notes claiming Jack "Jimmy Olsen" Larson sang "Roaches" is wrong. So is the 1994 book "Celebrity Vocals" from Goldmine. Pretty sad that two authors didn't think to question what they were hearing, or wonder if there were two guys named "Jack Larson." Back in the late 90's the actor Jack Larson was very easy to reach (I have a few autographed photos to prove it) and he would've written back if asked a question intended for publication. Sadder that a CD company and Goldmine failed to catch the error and neither had an editor or proofreader good at fact-checking. And most surprising of all: this is one of the few times that information you find on an Internet blog actually has the correct information! Illfolks is RIGHT and the other two are WRONG. Jeepers, do yourself a favor and hear the singing "Jack Larson" sing "Do Yourself a Favor."

JACK LARSON - DO YOURSELF A FAVOR

JOHNNY CARSON didn't sing YOU TALK TO MUCH. Did he?

You can find several 45 rpm singles with "Johnny Carson" singing. Sometimes they'll turn up on eBay or in a record store with a hefty price tag and the notation: "Rare: The Tonight Show host sings!" Is it really the King of Late Night singing??

In a word, NO.

These songs from the early 60's were by a young British singer who just happened to have the same name. Since both were rising stars at the time, and in different countries, and technically different professions, no manager or agent was demanding that one of the two change his name to avoid confusion.

Carson's "You Talk Too Much" was released in November of 1960 in England, well before Nebraska's Johnny took over "The Tonight Show" from Jack Paar. In fact, by the time our Johnny began his historic 30 year run on late night TV, the British Johnny was through, having issued just two other singles for Fontana (Fraulein/I Wish It Were You and Train of Love/First Proposal) and a few for Ember, the 1962 Teenage Bachelor/ Are You Anyone's Girl and the 1963 "The Tears Came Rolling Down/ One Track Mind").

If Johnny Carson, king of the late night talk show, actually did cover "You Talk Too Much," it might've been pretty good. Sadly, though Johnny was a very good drummer and didn't hide that fact, he was very sensitive about his singing voice. He once did some impromptu song early in his talk show days and the audience began to titter, anticipating parody lyrics. From then on, Carson almost never sang on his show, and if he did, he made sure the audience knew it was a joke. Coaxed by Pearl Bailey into singing along on "Our Love is Here To Stay," he quickly lapsed into a parody of debonair lounge singers. One night he came out as the "Rhinestone Cowboy," singing the hit song in his imitation-"Reginald Van Gleason" nasal tenor. Toward the end of his run, a more confident Johnny did a good parody of Willie Nelson, with new lyrics for a comic duet with Julio Iglesias. And finally, on that last show with Bette Midler, he felt comfortable enough to sing along in his real voice.

Heeeeere's the British Johnny Carson doing a fair cover version of "You Talk Too Much," but it would not have gotten him a booking on "The Tonight Show."

the British
JOHNNY CARSON - YOU TALK TOO MUCH

BOB DYLAN: JITTERBUG RAG BY BLIND BOY FULLER

Bob Dylan's wide-ranging musical and film scholarship has left his fans frantically leafing through hundreds of books and articles to check footnotes that explain his references. His song lines often include quotes from others, and fans are fascinated by obscure name-dropping or references to dusty items like the "Jitterbug Rag."

Sometimes Bob expects you to nod and wink as he turns a favorite film quote into a song lyric. For example, in "Seeing the Real You at Last," he opens with "Well, I thought that the rain would cool things down. But it looks like it don't." Which you should recognize as his homage to a quote in Hitchcock's "Rear Window," as spoken by Thelma Ritter: "I thought the rain would cool things down--all it did was make the heat wet." Later in the song: "I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble," which is an exact quote from "The Maltese Falcon," and I'm sure Bob's intentional short-hand in making a tight connection between himself and the cool and stoical "Sam Spade" as played by Humphrey Bogart.

Lots of times, it seems Dylan's stream of conscious leads him to drop a name, a place, or a person into a line, and the effect or symbolism is more emotional, like a Dali painting, than intellectual. In his brilliant, Oscar-winning song "Things Have Changed," he drops in "Jitterbug Rag." But first he juxtaposes all kinds of "fight or flight" images as he portrays a man in conflict, trying to convince himself "I used to care," when it's clear he still does. His conflicts include contradictory solutions ("Gonna get low down, gonna fly high") as well as chilling equations that shouldn't add up but do: "All the truth in the world adds up to one big lie." Yet another paradox: "I'm love with a woman who don't even appeal to me."

He gave a great performance on the Academy Awards show, starting off by glaring into the camera, turning his face to view us with his left eye, then his right…only to later note in his acceptance speech that his song didn't "turn a blind eye to human nature."

Here's that particularly strange set of contradictions in the song: "Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag/Ain't no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag." Of what help is learning to do an ancient dance like the Jitterbug? And how can drag (especially Bob in drag!) possibly fool anyone or be the answer to a problem? Well, the song is, like the best of Dylan, open to lots of interpretations, and even in abstract, has a lot of fascinating imagery, and there had to be a reason for him to dredge up Blind Boy Fuller's "Jitterbug Rag."

Most anyone would agree the song has to do with panic over being close to death, trying to determine what's worth fighting for and what isn't, and the hell of optimism and pessimism dueling for the possession of a man's heart and mind. In this song, the optimism is scant, as he thinks of himself on the gallows, with the only alternative to a broken neck being "all hell" breaking loose. The spectre of futility looms large: "The human mind can only stand so much. You can't win with a losing hand." And what made this song's protagonist look generations into the past for salvation via the "Jitterbug Rag?"

Below, "The Jitterbug Rag" by Blind Boy Fuller. Listen to it as Bob did, and see if you find an answer, or if it makes you want to take dancing lessons or dress in drag! So take this download, brother, may it serve you well.

JITTERBUG RAG (Blind Boy Fuller)

VERNE LANGDON joins the CARNIVAL OF SOULS

Striking a pose somewhat reminiscent of Lon Chaney Jr., you see Verne Langdon on the cover of his 2004 CD "Out of Love." It's on top of a few "Famous Monsters" paperbacks because, well, maybe he'd have wanted it that way…a reminder of his friendship with Forry Ackerman, with whom he produced and wrote the Decca album "Boris Karloff and Friends." Another album that horror fans love, is "Poe with Pipes," narration by John Carradine, to organ music composed and performed by Verne. Verne set up an indie record label to market Carradine, Jaye P. Morgan and others…and issued his own solo material as well. More recently, Verne continued in the narration field by supplying underlying music, and sentimental words, for tracks recorded by Jonathan Winters, including "Old Folks." And so Illfolks salutes our friend Verne, who had many other interests aside from music, and had a pretty creative life in, out, and sometimes outre, of the usual corridors of the entertainment world.

Verne was a make-up artist expert at both horror masks and drag (if that isn't the same thing). The monster masks he made, marketed with Don Post, were sold in every vintage issue of "Famous Monsters" magazine. He was also an avid fan of professional wrestling going back to the days of Gorgeous George and everyone's favorite harridan, the Fabulous Moolah. When he wasn't self-publishing nostalgic, McKuen-esque croons or attending some monster convention with Forry Ackerman, he was promoting his "Slammers Gym," where the burly and the loony could grapple and grunt. At 6'2" and 250 pounds, Langdon was certainly able to perform in the squared circle, almost with the grace he used in performing music on calliopes, pianos and organs. For this blog, the emphasis is on the latter.

Verne (September 15, 1941-January 1, 1911) was known to some in the blogworld as one of those "unreasonable" guys who filed DMCA's and "ruined the fun" of people who wanted to give away everybody's music because "music should be free," and the performers should make their money selling t-shirts. Or something. Verne didn't quite understand why some "fans" on the Internet were so dedicated in depriving him of income, or giving away entire albums instead of a sample track and a few words about the song and the artist.

I remember Verne shaking his head over a couple of bloggers giving away dozens and dozens of his cult albums, even the weird "Dr. Druid's Seance" novelty-narration disc and his stuff as "J. S. Bork," a kind of bastard uncle to "P.D.Q. Bach." One blogger was giving away some rare albums…to promote the CD-R copies of rarer ones he was selling at $5 a pop. A self-published author used a blog and free downloads of entire albums (on Verne and others) to call attention to himself and ask people to buy HIS stuff via Paypal. This blogger wasn't concerned if Verne lost a few dollars or if record dealers were deprived of sales.

Verne told me me how he literally called up one blogger. The reason he did, was this blogger kept re-upping the files that Verne was getting removed, and even deviously hiding the links as asterisks, or saying "e-mail me for links." The blogger was quite surprised that Verne could find him, but Internet anonymity is overrated. Verne discovered this guy was at least in his 30's, with gray hair, but still living with his parents. The blogger kept hanging up every time his mother handed him the phone and he heard Verne on the other end. "I just kept calling him back," he told me, "and I told his mother that he had to be a man and speak to me." Of course Verne didn't get any apology, just an indignant huff that if Verne's albums were given away, it was "good publicity," and if there were 100 or 200 Rapidshare downloads per album, why, that had to mean that a few people who bought the mp3 file would be delighted enough to buy the CD. Right?

As he got older, Verne gave up on pursuing the frustrating and humiliating game of trying to reason with people who felt entitled to give away music, and felt anyone who disagreed (including the creator of the music) should be subject to e-mail spam and other cyber-revenges and jihad. So Verne ignored the album photo & link guys who demanded "nice comments" for their "hard work." He stopped falling for the line "copyright owner can contact me by e-mail for link removal." Right. Except the blogger would e-mail back, "How do I know you're really Verne Langdon?" Meanwhile, if other rights owners simply had the file removed, the blogger would write: "Why didn't that prick have the courtesy to contact me directly, and ASK me to have the link removed?" No, Verne stopped dealing with the rationalizations, ego and ignorance of people like that.

Fortunately we don't have quite so many bloggers of this type around anymore. For one thing, blogs get taken down now, not just links. For another, there are so many blogs, it's hard to be a "star" and get zillions of "nice comments," which is what motivates most wanna-be's and "bathrobe boys" who are jealous of fame and having to actually be creative to earn it. So we've seen less intellectual property-wearing drag queens…adorning themselves in stolen goods to look glamorous. Many of these fools realize that all they've done is waste their time for a misplaced feeling of power, no better than slum dogs who write their graffiti tag all over toilet stalls and tenement walls. How ridiculous to fool yourself into thinking you're famous because you've got a blog for a hobby. While Verne's hardly famous, he could look back over the decades and feel like he accomplished something. He was paid for his work (blogs not withstanding) and had a good time being creative, finding paying outlets for his talents, and earning the respect of a lot of people who knew him by name, not some blog pseudonym or graffiti tag.

In the end, you can say that Verne Langdon was his own Renaissance man. He wanted to have his own radio show and in the 50's and 60's he did, including "Langdon After Dark" on KLOK in California. He wanted to write and produce music, and so he did, working with Korla Pandit, Jaye P. Morgan, and others. He became a friend of Mae West's, and could approach and engage a Karloff or Carradine not as a fan, but as a collaborator. His love of fantasy included collecting life masks of great horror stars (and grumbling over the bootlegs of them on eBay). He was among the artists monkeying around with putty and hair on the film "Planet of the Apes." He created life masks (and grumbled about the cheap copies of Lorre, Price and the others on eBay), helped create fantasy displays for "Castle Dracula" and other theme parks, and worked as a make-up artist on many classic TV shows from "Outer Limits" to "Carol Burnett."

I thought enough of Verne to buy the CD version of "Out of Love." What the hell. And he said, "Bless you!" So God bless Verne, for fulfilling his own dreams, freelancing to do what interested him, getting steady work as a make-up artist, and building an eccentric record label for himself and his friends. I think Verne probably knew he wasn't much of a singer, but his straight albums of ballads and country-tinged tunes were probably part-hobby and part demos for his songwriting. After all, "Old Folks," on the "Out of Love" album was later recorded by Jonathan Winters, and quite effectively. While a Carradine track of Poe "with pipes" or an organ instrumental would be good, I thought actually hearing Verne would be a better tribute, and "Carnival of Souls" is one of his better vocals…earnest, human, and a good example of why so many considered him a talented, sensitive soul.


VERNE LANGDON - CARNIVAL OF SOULS

BEBE BARDOT - A Song to Brigitte

You get a set of posts today, the 19th...for BEBE BARDOT (she was often called BB or Bebe by fans and writers), BEBE BARRON, and BEBE BARDON. The first and greatest, is of course, Bardot, who continues to be impressively awesome, in ways quite different from her "sex kitten" days.

Here's "BRIGITTE BARDOT BARDOT!" (now what was author Miguel Gustavo staring at to make him say her last name TWO TIMES). It was covered by many enthusiastic singers including De Emeralds from de Netherlands, and Rainer Bertram of Germany.

These guys must've got some Norwegian wood in their pants just from shouting "Bardot, Bardot!" (Today, some are chanting Badu, Badu, but we won't go there, girlfriend.) Her nickname "Bebe Bebe" is chanted over like bullets from beebee guns.

Following her retirement from the screen, which may have been due to listening to silly song-tributes bellowing her name, Brigitte Bardot has become a spokeswoman concerned about both the destruction of wildlife in this world, and the erosion of French culture and customs. While she's not always been politically correct, most of the time she's been right.

Some of her detractors like to show past and present pictures of Brigitte, as if to say she's not worth listening to because she's not worth looking at. They wouldn't think of demeaning a male political activist that way, but they figure it's a great way to insult a woman. Especially when they can't find a legitimate argument to make.

I have used "then and now" pictures here, because I think she's beautiful in both. At best, as a person ages, their wisdom should be compelling enough to replace any superficial beauty lost. Look at the image on the right. Does she not seem saintly? And Bless BeBe for not having the vanity to be a Botox cartoon or to think that being on the gossip page in a gown is better than being on the front page talking about issues in the real world. Which brings me to the other image...



It's an article from 2010 about the bizarre "entertainment" of hitching up a donkey and parasailing the terrified creature onto a beach to amuse tourists. Bardot, who has a wonderful animal rights foundation, seized upon this story, publicized the atrocity, and got action.She continues to use her celebrity in the best way possible, in raising money for animals, and in raising awareness of cruelty and stupidity. Perhaps this year, 40 years after the songs below were recorded, someone will offer a truly worthy musical tribute and celebration for one of the truly great ladies of our time

BRIGITTE BARDOT BARDOT (Rainer Bertram)
BRIGITTE BARDOT BARDOT (De Emeralds)

BEBE BARRON FORBIDDEN PLANET ANNE FRANCIS

Bebe Barron (born Charlotte May Wind June 16 1925 – April 20 2008) along with her husband Louis Barron began experimenting with sound as soon as they got a tape recorder back in 1947. Combining sonics and cybernetics, they sampled noises, made elaborate mixes, changed speeds, used reverberation, made tape loops, and began using their weird sounds as background music. While it's become very common to hear narration with eerie effects (remember Boris Karloff's two-set "Tales of the Frightened") the Barrons pioneered the concept. Living in Greenwich Village when it was very bohemian, they mated their effects to the "out there" writers of the day including Anais Nin and Henry Miller. They also attracted the attention of such early experimentalists as John Cage. It ultimately led to their most famous work…the all-electronic soundtrack to "Forbidden Planet." The outsiders were not nominated for an Academy Award because they were not members of the musicians union, and the soundtrack was technically termed "electronic tonalities," and not "music." The Barrons departed Hollywood and remained obscure experimental musicians. Bebe Barron's last work was made in the year 2000: Mixed Emotions.

The hero and heroine in "Forbidden Planet" would ironically die within 6 weeks of each other. Leslie Nielsen passed away November 28th, and on January 2nd, Anne Francis became the first major death of the year. And while the posts of the 19th have played with the Bebe Bardot-Bebe Barron-Bebe Bardon name game, this one is really a salute and tribute to Anne.

Anne was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2007. She seemed to be in remission for a while, and fans could still get autographs from her, but about eight months ago, she announced on her website that she was once again too ill to add to the blog on her site, or to answer her mail.

All I can tell you is that I wish I had been able to spend more time with Anne Francis. In my experience, she was as enigmatic and fascinating as the characters she played on the screen. Whether as "Altaira" the space girl, a doll come to life on "Twilight Zone" or even "Honey West," she was a very unusual mixture of the cool and the concrete, the ethereal and the down to earth. She could be aloof and disconnected, but she also had a very spiritual side, as you can read in "Voice from Home, An Inner Journey," the book she published through Celestial Arts.

Out of the blue, she sent a copy to me, personalized it and added, "Hope your path is joyous." (Above, a few of the pictures she autographed for me.) She called her book "my spiritual expose. It is about our essence of being, the inexplicable reality of mysticism, psychic phenomena, and the inner works of mind and spirit which contribute to the growth of the invisible and most important part of us; hidden from the glare of lights and the camera's eye." In other words, music for which the soundtrack of "Forbidden Planet" might be excellent background.

"Forbidden Planet" remains beloved on DVD, and fortunately, "Honey West" finally was released in that format while Anne was still around and in remission. Most agree that lung cancer can be beaten if you're lucky, but one must be wary of it turning up elsewhere. For Anne, it turned up in an area where it is almost always fatal. And so it was, that she passed away from pancreatic cancer. I suppose that kind of irony…fighting one fight only to be sucker-punched, mirrors some aspects of her career. She didn't get all the breaks in the world and there weren't that many roles that specifically made use of her strengths as someone erotic but distant, tough but spiritual, elusive and yet deeply passionate. Good news: she finally scored a defining role as "Honey West," on ABC, but…bad news: the show was canceled after one year because, Anne said, ABC was happy to cheaply import a newer and younger female crime-fighting heroine, "Emma Peel" of "The Avengers."

Enjoy the soundtrack to "Forbidden Planet," which is truly one of those musical pieces that can stand alone, without the visuals from the movie. The Barrons created something very special here. Back then, experimental electronic music, especially of the classic variety, was often very boring. Of course those composers didn't have to mate music to exciting and challenging visuals, or appeal to the general public, so they weren't pushing themselves as Bebe and Louis Barron did, to meld ominous footsteps to an electric atmosphere, to create melodious machine noises, or make delicate musical pirouettes for a love scene. Each track is labeled to let you know where it appeared in the film, from the heartbeat-stalking noise of "Invisible Monster Approaches" to "Love at the Swimming Hole" between Anne Francis and Leslie Nielsen.

FORBIDDEN PLANET by THE BARRONS

Update November 2011: Rapidshare deletes files if they aren't uploaded often enough to suit them. The Main Title Theme has have been re-upped individually via a better service:


FORBIDDEN PLANET Main Title Theme by THE BARRONS