Claudia Hoyser "Casey Jones" - Watch your speed. ROBERT HUNTER TOURED TO PAY HIS BILLS

While a lot of city-boy music critics think that Grateful Dead music was about as pleasant as stepping in cow dung, they usually gave a pass to Robert Hunter's lyrics. 

Sure, the Dead could drift on and on for 20 minutes or 20 hours or whatever, behind the strumming and that wonderfully whiny voice from Jerry "it's so cool he has a missing finger" Garcia. 

But listen, this Robert Hunter guy is profound. No, I don't mean "Truckin'." Don't show me selfies of your ugly body in an R. Crumb t-shirt. No, I mean "Casey Jones." I mean, "Trouble ahead, trouble behind." That says it all, don't it? Don't you know that notion just crossed my mind...after HE wrote it? 

Well, we all know that Robert Hunter is now one of the truly dead. 

But here's something most don't know: he was struggling to PAY THE BILLS. What? You mean that thanks to piracy and Spotify, Robert wasn't getting big royalty checks? Gosh.

Darn, too bad about Robert having to PAY HIS MEDICAL BILLS. 

He should've been glad to know that some really, really, really, REALLY hip guy in Sweden or in Turkey or in Croatia, gave away the complete Grateful Dead discography and posted a Crumb "Truckin'" cartoon and wrote: "No infringement intended. I'm just having fun!" 

Robert Hunter wrote some songs with Dylan, which is quite something. Not too many people have a Bob co-write. Funny, though, Bob wrote "If Dogs Run Free" but neither he nor Robert Hunter wrote "Music Should be Free." 

Meanwhile over at YouTube, which is run by GOOGLE, and "GOOGLE IS YOUR FRIEND" and will give you all the blogs you could ever want to give away all the music you won't have the time to actually listen to or understand, plenty of people are covering Robert's words.

Not that they actually KNOW what he meant. You can bet Claudia Hoyser isn't thinking that "trouble ahead" might be some situation where she'll be in the hospital and might be in trouble even if somebody sets up a GoFundMe account. That notion ain't crossed her mind. "Casey Jones" is still a damn catchy song, and she sure is purrrty. Sing it, gal, and shake that thing. 

The late KAREL GOTT -- singing Roy Orbison "PRETTY WOMAN" in Czechoslovakian

Most English-speaking people never heard of Karel Gott. I, of course, did. That's because when I'd go to big cities and hit the record stores, I paid attention to the bargain racks where obscure albums, foreign language items and other non-sellers could be had. 

Got Gott? Czech him out. Sad he Czeched out. 

OK, the obvious puns are done. 

Mr. Gott (July 14, 1939 – October 1, 2019) was arguably (go ahead) the most popular and successful singer in Czechoslovakia, and since he could sing in other languages, he was welcome throughout most of Europe, particularly Germany, where he sold over 20 million records. In the 70's, when politics were twisted around, he put out "Soviet Union," an album that sold over 4 million copies in Russia.Through the 80's he racked up honors and awards, and was coaxed out of retirement in the 90's to continue entertaining around the world. There were enough fans in America for him to play Carnegie Hall for a night (September 29, 2000). A diagnosis of cancer set him back in 2015.

Gott began his career around 1962, and an early hit for him was a cover of "Moon River." He often recorded cover versions, and that's why our paths crossed. At least, via record shops. One of my pet hobbies was, and is, collecting cover versions in foreign languages. Most people don't really follow lyrics anyway (what does "Wooly Bully" mean, or "Me and Julio" or a good chunk of Dylan or Mylene Farmer?) What sells is the melody and how much emotion the singer can convey. 

It's a special twist when the familiar words are missing, like here with "Pretty Woman," and you encounter something incomprehensible instead. It can also be slightly amusing when, to reference Steve Martin and Dan Ayrkroyd as those "wild and crazy guys," somebody from Europe tries to compete with the "cool" of an American or British hit version. Gott was so comfortable with this, that he even dared to cover Tom Jones, mostly in English, as you see via this TV medley: 

Yes, he pays tribute to "Delilah," "Help Yourself," and even the country classic "Green Green Grass of Home" written by the late great Curly Putman. 

When I'd come across an oddball album from a Karel Gott, Sylvia Vartan or Wencke Myhre, I'd check the record label to see if a familiar composer's name was somewhere under a foreign language song title. Ahh...covering Leiber and Stoller? Orbison? The Beatles? Gotta hear it. Music IS the universal language, huh? If only Gott had covered the Orbison song, "You Got It" or The Beatles "Got To Get You Into My Life" or the "Bye Bye Birdie" show tune "Got a Lot of Living to Do." But if you got the time, you can find some almost-as-amusing gems in his catalog. Be warned, the man made several albums a year so the total is nearly 100. Hope you Gott the time....

OCTOBER 9th - JOHN LENNON'S 79th - an Eleanor McEvoy song

Yoko, Ringo and Sean (who was also born on October 9th) participated in a ceremony in Finland honoring what would have been John Lennon's 79th birthday.

So much could be written about this. But you have his albums. You have your own thoughts. Put on a few songs and think of him.


October 9th is the title of a song by Eleanor McEvoy:"Last Seen October 9th." The song isn't usually in her set list. It's pretty grim. In fact, she usually performs it only on October 9th. 

Over a decade ago, I was in the audience, on October 9th, at her show.  By way of preface, expecting her song title for an answer, she asked the audience, "Anyone know what day this is?" 

From my ringside seat, I answered, "Yes...John Lennon's birthday." 

"Is it? Really. I didn't know that..." 

My better half nudged me; she didn't think I should've called out anything, but Eleanor literally asked for it. And I thought just saying "October 9th" wasn't enough. Afterward, I had a nice little talk with Eleanor about the song and the "last seen" posters that were all over the bus shelters and walls in New York City after 9/11. And yes, even as late as 10/9, the tattered signs were still around as people still hoped that somehow a lost relative might be found in a hospital suffering from amnesia or something. 

The song is about a person gone missing, not someone assassinated, but the effect is the same. The song, in its quiet, sober, somber simplicity, says a lot about life's fragility and the emptiness that goes with loss.  

Eleanor will be playing the Clontarf Lawn Tennis Club, Clontarf, Dublin, October 19th. 

Her tour of Germany begins in November:

Tuesday 5 November, Kito Altes Packhaus, Bremen
Wednesday 6 November,  Leverkusen, Notenschlüssel 
Friday 8 November, Nürtingen, Kuckucksei
Saturday 9 November,  Studio Zr6, Wiesbaden
Sunday 10, November, Salon Schmitt, Kaiserslautern
Monday 11 November, Folkclub, München
Thursday 14 November, Kammerspiele, Ansbach
Friday 15 November,  Rathaushalle, Hassfurt  SOLD OUT
Saturday 16 November, Schalandeer Karlsruhe, Karlsruhe
Sunday 17 November, Noris Folkclub, Nürnberg

 OCTOBER 9th Listen on line, no pop-ups, porn ads or wait time.

BADURA-SKODA nearly made it to 92 - His Piano Quirks and Blazing Etude Work

"Missed it by...that much..." Paul Badura-Skoda would have turned 92 on October 6th. 

Many figured he would make it. After all, he was STILL gettin' it done at 91, doing concerts around the world. Below you'll find a complete performance from May of 2019. 

The Austrian piano genius (October 6 1927 – September 25, 2019) was one of the most prolific — and neglected classical recording artists. Anyone out there have a whole bunch of his records and CDs? I can't say that I have all that many, as I tended to look for the acknowledged masterful performances of Rubinstein, Horowitz and Richter. When I looked for alternate versions of a piece, or didn't have the bucks to spend, I filled out my collection with what was on the budget labels; a lot of Alfred Brendel, Earl Wild, and guy whose work was in mono and so kicked by Angel down to Seraphim or from RCA to Victrola.  

One of Badura-Skoda's labels was Westminster (some collectors of "deep groove" vinyl still pay a high price for that label's products). For his 90th birthday, a 20 CD box set of the master's 1951-1965 recordings was re-issued, some material re-mastered at Abbey Road. It's about $65. Likewise in price, is the Kleos 7 CD box set "Man and His Music." There are box sets of compete Mozart and Beethoven sonatas, and much more. He recorded well over 200 albums. Perhaps in some shoutbox or other, someone at this very moment is saying, "I am a poor man, I can not afford music, so does anyone want to look in their closets for a complete discography on Badura-Skoda via Zippyshare? Pretty please?" 

One of the prize quirks for collectors is "Schubert: The Complete Piano Sonatas on Period Instruments." 9 CD set. Why is this quirky? 

Because one of the more unusual things about Badura-Skoda is that he was not only concerned with the quality of stereo sound, but the difference between old vintage pianos and modern ones. He would often record the same piece of music on a piano that could've been played by Schubert himself, and on his favored Bosendorfer. 

Consider that a concert violinist lucky enough to own a Stradivarius -- would not switch in mid-concert to the best recently made violin, and play the same piece over again for connoisseurs to find the difference. Yet this pianist expected that there were people out there ready to hear the same interpretation of a sonata, but enjoy the differences in sound quality on pianos made centuries apart. 

Here's his last concert, May of 2019 

Badura-Skoda began his career in the late 40’s, and worked with some of the legendary German conductors, including Furtwangler and Von Karajan. As he prospered, his private collection of musical instruments grew. Not only did he seek out a vintage piano, but quite a few other keyboard instruments, even accordions. 

He was praised mostly for his interpretations of the standards: the concertos and sonatas of Mozart and Beethoven, as well as the works of Schubert and Chopin. Below, for those who really don't like classical music too much, is a very familiar Chopin work under three minutes: Etude #12 in C Minor. 

Heyyyyy Abbott & Costello fans, yes, this is the piano piece that Lou Costello pretended to play on one of their TV episodes. The comedy was in when Lou, seated with his hands on the keyes, would pretend to start and stop, as Bud incompetently manned the record player in the room next door. 

This is a VERY fast and powerful version of what is probably Chopin's most dramatic and showy piano piece. Few have the dexterity to pull this off, and most have to take it a bit slower. Or, they just figure Chopin meant it to be taken a bit slower.  Think Emerson or Wakeman could handle this? Think again.

Chopin Etude #12 in C Minor - listen online, download, no password or dodgy spyware-loaded website. No paypal demand or Rapidgator hypocrisy

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE .... with LYRICS - THE KANE TRIPLETS

One of the most sensational TV themes of all time, "Mission Impossible" by Boris "Lalo" Schifrin  spent over 3 months on the Billboard Top 100 chart, and won him two Grammy awards. 

Un-naturally, somebody figured, "Hey, why don't we try and put lyrics to this thing, and see what happens?" 

What happened is that you probably didn't know such a travesty existed until now. There have been many unlikely words thrown at famous instrumentals, including the themes for the TV shows "Peter Gunn," "Hawaii Five-O," "Bewitched" and "Bonanza." It's possible even Mack David would've taken a look at the Schifrin music and tossed his pen aside saying, "this mission IS impossible." So is trying to make sense of what the Triplets are actually singing, but go ahead and give it a try. 

The Kane Triplets began their career via modeling for magazine ads. Lucille, Jeanne and Maureen turned up on the early TV talent show hosted by Arthur Godfrey, performed the awful "Inch Worm" novelty song on Perry Como's show in 1961, and were sort of comically paired (or tripled) with The McGuire Sisters for some novelty TV appearances. The McGuires were sisters, so were The Andrews Sisters, but hey, the Kanes were TRIPLETS and looked quite a bit alike. So what's not to like? They turned up on "The Ed Sullivan Show."  Give them girls a record deal!

Kapp raised the Kanes with a 1964 single: "A Word to the Wise" b/w "Spanish Boy." They would get their big chance when Fred Milano and Angelo D'Aleo (who were in the doo-wop group Dion and the Belmonts) put lyrics to "Mission Impossible." 

The Kane Triplets blossomed (as you see in the photo above) but wilted due to the lack of a big hit single. Their Facebook fan page is notably barren except for one comment: "We live in New Jersey We no longer sing anymore We lost our sister Jeanne tragically in 2007." 

How...tragically? Jeanne's ex-husband John Galtieri was an ex-cop. A wife-beater. He still owned a gun, and though it had been four years since the divorce, and he re-married, he was not through with Jeanne. On January 30, 2007, the cold-blooded killer drove up from Florida and stalked his prey. Jeanne, 58 years old, was waiting in a Pleasant Plains parking lot for her daughter to arrive via a bus. Galtieri shot Jeanne in the head. 

Two years later,  February 19, 2009, Staten Island judge Stephen Rooney, said: "What's particularly chilling here is the calculated and premeditated nature of this murder." The judge allowed Jeanne and John's daughter Patricia to read a statement:

Today, I would finally like my mother's voice to be heard. Throughout the trial, many people have shared their feelings, but my mom, Jeanne, has not yet had the chance.

I also hope to be able to share with you who my mother really was and not just the tragic event that took her from us. My mother, Jeanne, was funny, loving, vivacious, self-assured and loyal.She brightened up any room she entered. No matter how bad everything was, she could always make you smile. My mother was and always will be my hero and my idol. Her strength and courage were incredible. To me, what made her truly special was her ability to always put loved ones before herself. She truly was selfless. There was never a time in my life where she didn't put me first. My mother loved with her whole heart. Not many people can do that. She was that amazing. The day my mother was murdered, the world lost someone truly special. 

John Galtieri tried to take all that away from her and me. My mother endured years of verbal and physical abuse. I watched John Galtieri hit and kick her. My childhood is littered with these images. I used to find my mother with black eyes and a split lip. During one incident, he blamed my mother for his best friend dying of cancer. He threw a glass he was drinking out of at her. At the hospital, the doctor said she had to get so many stitches he stopped counting. Another incident occurred when our golden retriever jumped up at the table and spilled his coffee. He blamed my mother for this because she let the dog in from outside. He threw her to the ground and started punching and kicking her.

A third incident involved him hitting me. As soon as she heard him, she ran into my bedroom to stop him from hitting me. He threw her to the ground. She had just had surgery for her kidneys the same day. He viciously kicked and beat her. At one point, he was kicking her in the lower back around her kidney area. I was so scared that I just cowered in the corner. I regret that to this day. I could not protect her.

It was that night she decided to leave him. She said it was one thing to hit her, but she would never allow him to do the same to me. She had stayed all those years because she was worried he would kill her family or kill me. She finally got the courage to leave him and I was so proud of her. I had been waiting a long time for her to stand up for herself. I always told her that I was strong. I told her he couldn't hurt me but being the mother she was, she still wanted to protect me.

After 23 years, she finally got her life back. Even through all the drama and heartache, she was able to smile and laugh. I would do it all over again just to let her have those nine years of complete happiness. She was together again with our family. We did not have to live in fear of what would happen when John got home. Our happy moments were just that. Happy. When my mother was murdered, I thought I had to be the unluckiest person in the world, but then I realized that I had 25 years with the most wonderful mother a girl could ever dream of. That makes me the luckiest girl in the world.

John Galtieri:

I should have said this a long time ago. You are a coward. Only a coward would hit someone who can't hit them back. Only a coward doesn't take responsibility for their actions. Only a coward hides behind a gun. You might think you have won. You might think you have beat my mother. One thing you underestimated is me. I will finish everything my mother started, but the difference is I will not stop until I have taken everything from you like you tried to do to me. I won't rest until you have lost everything, starting with your freedom. Judge Rooney, I ask you to put this monster away for the rest of his life and as he sits in his cold, lonely cell for the remainder of his days, he will be tortured by this for eternity:

Jeanne beat him.

Jeanne beat him.

Jeanne beat him.

Galtieri was sentenced to life in prison, and died in the slammer. Which did leave one last question...

The answer: daughter Patricia, who was also collecting Galtieri's $2,770 a month police pension. The money was contested by Galtieri's second wife Marilyn. Galtieri, perhaps in response to his daughter's impact statement, had tried to sign his pension off to Marilyn after his conviction. He also tried to declare bankruptcy to keep his pension away from his daughter. He was clobbered on all of this, and he lost all his assets in a wrongful-death lawsuit. The second wife got nothing. His mission to avoid having to literally pay for his crime: impossible. 

The Kane Triplets - MISSION IMPOSSIBLE instant download, no password, dodgy porn-loaded website, no Rapidgator pay-me hypocrisy

GOFUNDME - THE 3 TOED IAN WHITCOMB

Now that the bizarre header has gotten your attention, let's add this, quickly: 

“Wish you get well, Ian Whitcomb.”

(signed) Well Wisher.

Once noted for wide-eyed grinning novelty songs, Ian Whitcomb matured into a funny and poignant singer of old songs. Unfortunately, after you mature, you get old, and when you do, things happen. Like a stroke, which is not something you like. In 2012, Ian’s stroke left him unable to continue his career. The bills began to mount, and now, following more health problems, there’s a GoFundMe page for him. 

As veterans of this blog might recall, an entry back in 2010 listed a few “songs you’ll love to hate.” As Spike Milligan would say, “there’s a lot of it about.” Some of the more obvious examples might be “Who Let the Dogs Out,” “(My Angel is the) Centerfold,” “Come On Eileen,” “Purple People Eater,” etc. etc.  Catchy stuff. You can play it for a party prank and half the room will leave and the other half will clap and sing along. Since this blog ISN’T prone to the obvious, the three-prong pitchfork was “In a Mellotone” by Carol Stevens, “Maybe” by Bobby Pedrick and… “The Awful Tale of Maggie May” by Ian Whitcomb. The entry mentioned that Ian’s “nudge-nudge wink-wink” delivery didn’t show much “respect” for the British Music Hall classic.

Ian himself offered defense: 

“I'm sorry you find me an irritant."Maggie May" was recorded in 1965 as a throwaway. I'm not proud of it but since then I've written a few books,provided songs for a few movies, and at my concerts tried to spread a little happiness.From the picture you use I guess you've been to my website so you know what I've been up to. I'd love to convert you but I guess it's no use…..”  

In my reply, I mentioned “Camp artistes can be brilliant...I told Tiny Tim that my favorite song of his was "Bring Back those Rockabye Baby Days," which I'm sure was hated by many a disc jockey and reviewer at the time. I keep an open mind, which is why something whistles through my ears when the wind blows….”  Another comment in defense of Ian started with: “I for one of many, LOVE Ian Whitcomb. He was a true British Invader…” 

There was something in the water, or in the rum and Ribena, at one point in the U.K.  Somehow the classic, brilliant, boisterous and charming world of British Music Hall (I’m thinking Harry Champion, Vesta Victoria, Billy Merson and Billy Bennett in particular) got mutated by a new generation. The first variant, in the 50’s and early 60’s saw the old spark twisted around via musicals. “Oom Pah Pah” in “Oliver” and “I’m Getting Married in the Morning” from “My Fair Lady” were obvious tips of the hat to the Music Hall days. 

There was also Tommy Steele’s “Half a Sixpence,” and the popular and annoying “Flash, Bang, Wallop” which is still the subject of jokes on “I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue.” The reprisals from Whitcomb and Herman’s Hermits, and the coy and frantic nonsense from Freddie and the Dreamers were much more obvious. So was “Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport” and other Rolf Harris tunes. Larry David might say “Curb Your Enthusiasm” but “You Turn Me On” from Ian Whitcomb was a hit in 1965. A real bit of cheerfulness, innit?

While Freddie faded away, and Herman (Peter Noone) became a remarkable Dorian Gray-type oldies act (he’s never gotten old and he sings the same perky songs same as the first time), Ian Whitcomb matured.  Do something in your 20’s and you might be called affected or coy or whatever, but if you do it in your 50’s and beyond, and the youthful leering is replaced by a knowing gaze, then maybe you’re a sincere showman. There’s a mark of respect in your preservation of old songs. Tiny Tim, though playing obscure venues, was acknowledged as not quite the freak show he appeared to be, but a true musical scholar who could sing in a more normal voice, play his uke, and give people nostalgia without being too condescending or apologetic.

    Likewise, Whitcomb was no longer the campy clown raising his eyebrows and grinning over “Where Did Robinson Crusoe Go with Friday on Saturday Night?” Here’s “Hungry Women,” which Ian actually performed on Johnny Carson’s “The Tonight Show.” Look, you don’t get to perform in front of Johnny if you’re a total twit. As you can see, Ian grew into an Eric Idle-type of guy who is slightly nuts; old enough to know better, but young at heart enough not to care. 

    A few decades later, and here’s an item that requires no caveat.  “Heartaches” is not a novelty song really, although it was turned into a doo-wop wack-a-doodle by “The Marcels.” Here, acknowledging its age but also its sincerity, is crooner Whitcomb, doing a damn good job of it. I’d liken this to Nick Lowe aging into a contemplative low-key balladeer without apology or any worry about relinquishing his title as Jesus of Cool. While George Harrison was a big fan of the ukelele, almost NOBODY ELSE is. George himself didn’t exactly play it in public did he? No, he’d say “let’s get the ukeleles out” in private. Whitcomb gave the uke some respect. In that regard, you might liken him to Joe Brown strumming the uke and singing “I’ll See You In My Dreams” to close the “Tribute to George Harrison” show in November of 2002.  

    I’ll put it this way. A high school friend of mine reconnected with me a few years ago, thanks to finding me through social media (yeah…a hazard of social media). We met, and had a nice time talking about the old days. It turned out he had a stage name and sometimes performed a “nostalgia act.” This involved crooning “old time” songs while playing a ukelele. Let’s just say that this was a terrible surprise. Dressed like an old-timer, complete with fedora, hoping to come off like the spawn of Bing Crosby and Rudy Vallee, he strummed “Blue Skies” with his uke cradled in his arms, and warm, friendly smile that was as intimate and creepy as a pedophile holding out candy.  I never saw him again. He was no Ian Whitcomb!  

 Ian is alive and…well, not so well.  Things got worse for him last month. September 26: “Ian's big toe plus the one next to it (right foot) were amputated on Tuesday. They were gangrenous from the lack of circulation caused by the blood clot. Yesterday his foot checked out healthy. That's good. Today, Ian sounds determined to do the work to get securely back on his feet…this could have been worse. I know many people have experienced and survived such challenges. We all play the hand we're dealt…”  From his GoFundMe page:

    “Ian Whitcomb received  Surgical Thrombectomy on Sept. 19.  A blood clot, in his right leg,  severely limited circulation…/There have been many complications since Ian had the stroke in 2012.  He hasn't worked…No income for 7 years. Now we must ask for your help.  Any amount. Ian's recovery and rehabilitation will be long and expensive.  Left to what medicare covers he will not improve….” Yes, blame Obama or Trump or both, Medicare is not the carefree panacea it was envisioned to be. Go to a hospital and have a nurse give you an aspirin, and you could be billed $250 for the visit and $250 for the pill. In America, unless you pay a huge amount of insurance for “total coverage,” the person on Medicare is most certainly going to have to pay 20% and with all the over-charging for a hospital bed, treatment, and a nurse or doctor looking in, this can easily send anyone into bankruptcy. I recall that Dave Van Ronk became ill, and a fundraiser was needed for him, and I’m sure one could create quite a list of famous and beloved names that have had similar problems due medical bills during the “golden years.” More on the GoFund Me campaign:  

GO FUND ME - IAN WHITCOMB

Ian’s wife writes that Ian “loves to receive cards and letters. He re-reads his cards several times. It warms his heart. Address to P.O. Box 451, Altadena, CA. 91003. I'll deliver them wherever he is.”

Lorne Greene and the Jewish "RINGO" called...SHLOMO - Happy Rosh Hashanah

Jewish holidays always shift around. When's Rosh Hashanah this year? Yom Kippur? Chanukah? And are we sure we've spelled them correctly?

Rosh Hashanah starts today at sundown. And I'm sure it wouldn't interest anybody, outside of a small circle of Jews.  The biblical term isn't "Rosh Hashanah" it's "Yom Teruah," which translates as "day of shouting." As in shouting HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

It sure wouldn't interest Patti Smith, Peter Gabriel or Roger Waters. Those are three antiSemites who support BDS against Israel, and only Israel. Syria is fine. North Korea is fine. Russia is fine. Red China is Fine. Turkey is fine. Nigeria is fine. There are people fighting about land, doing ethnic cleansing, and conducting violent religious psycho-wars all over the place but SOME people ONLY look at Israel. Gee, why would that be?

The argument is "This isn't antiSemitism, it's against Israel." And what is Israel? "The Jewish State." It's the one little sliver in the world where Jews can't be told "Get Thee Out" or have their tombstones desecrated, their synagogues spray-painted or see a rabbi smacked to the pavement for wearing religious garb. But let's lighten up...

...and going with our C&W theme of posts this time, here's SHLOMO, the Jewish version of Lorne Greene's novelty classic "Ringo." 

Lorne Greene (Lyon Himan Green) was Jewish. So was Michael Landon (Eugene Orowitz). Yep, half the Ponderosa were Jews! What a "Bonanza." 

"Shlomo" is by Country Yossi. Yossi Toiv debuted on radio in 1986, and this sample of his fine work is from the vinyl version found on "Country Yossi and the Shteeble Hoppers Strike Again." Most of his early albums include Jewish versions of classic pop (Sedaka, Beach Boys, etc.) and country (Johnny Cash). 

"Shlomo" has that galloping beat that you find with so many cowboy songs. It was also appropriated by another Jew, William Shatner, for "Has Been." In that song, he takes on his critics who are "riding on their arm chairs...while they have not done shit." But I digress. 

If you want to follow Yossi, he's on Twitter (https://twitter.com/countryyossi) but the 70 year-old radio star and comedian hasn't posted since 2015. His CountryYossi website seems likewise dormant.

Country Yossi's stuff is pretty orthodox…if you just light Chanukah candles and eat bagels and lox, you might not get all the references. If you keep the Sabbath, know the last words that differentiate a prayer for bread and a prayer for wine, and can at least sing "Adon Olum" from memory, you shouldn't have much trouble. And if you are an observant Jew, you will notice the link is below. (Unobservant Gentiles can see this, too!) 

SHLOMO - instant download or listen online - no Pay-to-Hear Rapidgator crap, no webstie full of malware or porn ads

THAT OLD OUTLAW...TIME - Bob Nolan one of the Sons of the Pioneers

"Now as I go along, he steals from me.
My way of life. My woman's love. My peace of mind.
If I could see him I'd hit him. If I could reach him I'd kill him.
That old outlaw...Time." 

In 1979, Bob Nolan, one of the original "Sons of the Pioneers," emerged from long retirement to cut "The Sound of a Pioneer." The most gripping song was "That Old Outlaw Time."

A year later, June 16, 1980, he was dead.  

Johnny Cash would later be part of a morbid video for his cover of "Hurt," and in a flurry of activity before his death, cover a variety of grim songs and warning ballads, including "The Man Comes Around." 

"This shadow I can't seem to shake is not flesh and blood. This is a stranger each man faces in his own mind; filling him with fear and doubt. And behind it all, is that old outlaw: Time." 

Karloff couldn't have narrated it better. 

"No way to win...no way to win...against that old outlaw...TIME."

That Old Outlaw Time - instant download or listen online - no password, no make-you-pay Rapidgator crap, no freak website taking you to Spyware-ville

The Johnny Cash "FOLSOM PRISON" PARODY - conception co.

Here's a reply to request from FOUR PRISONERS who escaped from jail the other day. The got out because they were no match for TWO FEMALE guards. 

They contacted the blog and wrote, "How about posting a funny prison song?" 

You got it, guys. 

Below is a laugh-a-minute parody of "Folsom Prison Blues." Guys, you can download it or hear it online on whatever laptop you stole. Where are you, making your way East to fuck Joyce Mitchell?

When these guys are captured, they'll probably be charged with VIOLATING THE #METOO movement. You guys deliberately overpowered two FEMALE guards, and that's very sexist of you. 

Since women can do ANY job as well as a man, including guarding MALE PRISONERS, you four will have to be charged with a hate crime against women. You misogynists. You acted like common criminals. 

This obscure parody of "Folsom Prison Blues" was done in 1972 by the Conception Corporation.  They, along with Credibility Gap and Congress of Wonders, tried to be broader, bolder versions of the hallucinogenic Firesign Theater.

The Corporation open with a nudge-nudge in-joke reference to Lenny Bruce, inventor of "Yaddi-yadda" via his prison bit "Father Flotski's Triumph." Maybe the funniest thing about the parody is the crowd sound effects...how easily an audience can be manipulated into cheers or boos. 

The original "Folsom Prison Blues" could've gotten Johnny Cash locked up for plagiarism. (This was back in the day when plagiarism and piracy were actually considered criminal activity). See, the melody for the tune is actually "Crescent City Blues." Johnny may have thought it was just an old folk song when he grafted the new lyrics onto it. Legend has it that he offered to switch the tune around but Sam Phillips, owner of Sun Records, said it wasn't worth fussing with. When the song became a hit, the original composer sued and won a settlement.

The lyrics are a tad funny. All Johnny did was get arrested for vagrancy. Here, he's a mean cuss who claimed to have shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. That's worth a chuckle. I myself was in Nevada once, and I shot some craps in Reno just to watch them die.

FOLSOM PRISON PARODY - listen online or download - no creepy porn ads, no dodgy website and no ego password

UPDATE SEP 30. That didn't take long, did it! The fab four are back in jail....

Say, that "TITANIC" is in a "SHOCKING STATE" these days! Let SAILOR sing...

Talk about a SILLY headline...here's THE GUARDIAN complaining about how "shocking" it is to find The Titanic looking like a WRECK.

Yes, this is from a BRITISH newspaper website.  They're shocked, SHOCKED, that after 100 years in salt water, the WRECKED TITANIC doesn't look so good!

I love the Brits, but they do have a tendency to wear the bowler hat just a little too tight while they sip the sherry:

"Such a kerfuffle. Why can't something be done? Imagine, a wrecked ship is deteriorating! Surely, something can be done about it. Where's Christopher Chope? Oh, taking upskirt photos. Jolly good luck to him, then. Where's Prince Harry and the Duchess of Sex? Off spending taxpayer money? We love them. Well, even so, this is rather shocking, what? Some diver should go down there with a can of polish or something."

The comical problem of complaining about the deterioration of a wrecked ship had me....

....remembering the ABBA-esque song "Danger on the Titanic" performed by the obscure group SAILOR. 

In the late 70's, many tried to copy ABBA's cheesy harmonies and fizzy enthusisasm. This quartet has more than a dab of Abba, and they drag in some aspects of Queen as well, in this No-themian rhapsody. The result makes the Titanic's winter horror quite summer campy. 

The lyrics by Philip Pickett pluck some gamey strings of wordplay: "I'm drowning in my salty tears…Don't leave me drowning with tears in my wine. Just when I found you we hit an iceberg. It's man overboard!" 

Predictably, "Titanic" rhymes with "panic." 

Was it a dream? Is a ghost doing the singing? Maybe so:

"We danced the tango as the waves crashed down upon the dance floor.
We carried on, 'cause this was our favorite song." 

Then they began to do "The Swim." Look elsewhere for a download of Harry Chapin's "Dance Band on the Titanic." Here, on the blog of less renown....

SAILOR sings about THE TITANIC! Instant download or listen on line

"Lift Up Your Hearts" and remember the ebullience and humor of the late PHYLLIS NEWMAN

        The last time I saw Phyllis Newman, she had breathing tubes in her nose. She was being interviewed by some local news channel while seated at a cheap (no costumes) off-Broadway revival of "Subways are for Sleeping." 

          Despite her obvious poor health (the woman did manage a comeback from cancer surgery years ago), she answered questions about her early days on Broadway, and gave her opinion on the current production. She said the young cast did a very good job and had her blessings. 

          As for blessings, Barbra Streisand probably is still cursing under her breath about what happened some 50 years ago.  In a Tony Award shocker, Streisand in "On a Clear Day..." LOST the award for best new talent to young Phyllis in "Subways are for Sleeping." You can bet that even today, she might grumble a Seinfeld-like cry of "NEWMAN!" 

          Phyllis died a few days ago, at the age of 86. 

          No, this isn't a blog that covers the Broadway sound too often. Still, Newman was an ebullient performer who many remember fondly from not only "Subways are for Sleeping," but "The Apple Tree," "Prisoner of Second Avenue," and her own one-woman show "Madwoman of Central Park West." They'll also tell you that her husband was the great Adolph Green (who wrote musicals not with Phyllis, but with Betty Comden). I never saw Newman on Broadway but I did catch up with "Madwoman" recently thanks to a blurry YouTube upload of the TV version done by PBS. There's a parody number in it mocking the world of feminist anthems, and it demonstrates her great talent and versatility.

          For those more prone to tuning in the TV rather than prancing down the aisle at a Broadway theater, Newman was a presence on TV quiz shows such as "To Tell the Truth" and "What's My Line," and on the edgy "That Was the Week That Was" variety series. She played a Russian spy on "Amos Burke Secret Agent," and had a number of similar credits.

          Like many Broadway actresses (including Chita Rivera, Georgia Brown and Angela Lansbury), Newman was rarely given a real shot at solo recordings. That field was dominated by the likes of Peggy Lee, Rosemary Clooney and the rest of the nightclub professionals. Still, when she did get a chance in front of a studio microphone she didn't disappoint. Songs such as "Clouds" or "Those Were the Days" or "Your Mother Should Know" were easily within her range of both key and credibility.  

          Below, the bittersweet nostalgia of "Your Mother Should Know." Like "I'm Henry the 8th" the second verse is same as the first... 

YOUR MOTHER SHOULD KNOW that this is a DOWNLOAD or LISTEN ON LINE link. No password, no detour to a dumb porn site 

MARSHA MALAMET - "On records selling 25 million copies worldwide" THAT'S WHO

In case you haven't checked her out on Facebook, Marsha Malamet changed her profile photo a while ago: 

It's been many a "Coney Island Winter" since she made her debut solo album for Decca. She was 21, and she sang art-pop in a voice that even Kate Bush would say was a LITTLE BIT HIGH. 

She looks a bit happier than she did on the photo inside her album's fold-out: 

 I still remember buying that record. Not that it did Marsha any good. There was a record shop that sort of "fenced" review copies of albums that the local disc jockeys didn't or couldn't play. The very obscure stuff was a dollar, sometimes two for a dollar. For an inquiring music mind, this was indeed a bargain. If an artist was signed to a major label, how bad could the music be? Maybe the artist was just too adventurous for mainstream tastes, but perfect for a small circle of oddballs. Maybe the artist had a bad manager or simply fell through the cracks.

That day, I picked up an album by Nanette Natal because she looked pretty cool and was on Vanguard, and for the two-fer, I added Marsha Malamet because "Coney Island Winter" reminded me of the play "The Goodbye People" (which took place on Coney Island in winter) and she had such a delicious name. Marshmallow? Malamars? Hmmmm.

Below, the rather stunning track that is STILL pretty good, if you take Kate Bush and turn left to Brooklyn, and show the influences of "big moment in the spotlight" Broadway ballads, little girl lost Carole King piano playing, and a segue into"MacArthur Park" symphonic flourish. 

What happened to Marsha? Apparently not all that comfortable on stage, she did play some venues to support the record, but ended up writing songs for others. As her eponymous dotcom tells everyone,  "Marsha’s songs have been recorded by Barbra Streisand, Faith Hill, Luther Vandross, Jessica Simpson, Meatloaf, Diana Ross, Hugh Jackman, Chaka Khan, Patti LaBelle, Barbara Cook, Judy Collins, Lea Salonga, and Sheena Easton and many others. Marsha’s top ten international hit single, I Am Blessed, sung by the UK’s pop group, Eternal, moved the Pope to invite them to perform the song at the Vatican..." 

"For the first New York AIDS WALK, her song “Love Don’t Need A Reason”, written with Peter Allen and Michael Callen, was selected as it’s theme song. Since then, many AIDS WALK’s across the country, have used the song in their opening ceremonies. Marsha has sung it at many of them. To date, there have been over 35 recordings of the song..." 

Sometimes it helps to be "openly gay," especially in the entertainment world in the 21st Century, and as Seinfeld would say, "there's nothing wrong with that." If it helps people know the music of Marsha Malamet, fine. And that includes her very quirky high-strung solo album. With much salt water under the Koch-Queensboro bridge, and a lot of winters gone, the singer-songwriter-loving Japanese compiled a CD of some of her demos, and released it as her second solo album, "You Asked Me To Write You A Love Song."

Windy City Times ("The Voice of Chicago's Gay, Lesbian, Bi, Trans and Queer Community") duly noted that four co-writes by Malamet appear on "Dangerous Man," an album by Jason Gould. It was produced by Quincy Jones for Qwest Records.  Gould was the vocalist on "Amazing," a song co-written by Marsha and used over the credits of "Scrooge and Marley," a 2012 GAY version of "A Christmas Carol" produced by Sam I Am Films in Chicago. If you're connected in the gay community, which gets a lot of grant money and Art Council funding, you can do well even in this era of low royalties and "we want it free."
 
In the song below, the plucky Brooklynite with cabaret sensibilities, ventures forth into the cold (it's Coney Island in winter) world. There will be heartaches, there will be moments of doubt and dare, but hey, there MIGHT be 25 million records out there with your songwriting credit on them! 

TIM EVANS WAS EXECUTED -- "CHRISTIE WAS THE MURDERER, AND THE JUDGE AND JURY TOO"

One more example of the power of music: "Go Down Ye Murderers" by Ewan MacColl, also known as "The Ballad of Tim Evans." 

Arguably the injustice in the case (the man was executed for a crime he did not commit) was brought to the public's attention by a song. Protest songs didn't start with Bob Dylan, they have always been part of the broadside world and the folk tradition. 

While the Christie case got some notoriety at the time, it was the enduring ballad from MacColl, covered by many artists, that kept the case in the public's mind. His song did not focus on Christie, the way the media focused on him (and as the media focused on John Gacy or Ed Gein or Charles Manson). The song didn't focus on the victims either. MacColl's attention was drawn to Tim Evans, who was hanged before the real killer was revealed. In fact, Christie testified against Evans at the trial.

John Christie managed to kill a number of prostitutes, his wife, and an upstairs neighbor (Mrs. Evans, who was seeking his help with an abortion) but he managed to elude detection...until a new tenant at 10 Rillington Place discovered a hidden body. More bodies were found. 10 Rillington Place became such a notorious address that the building was torn down and the street re-named. 

Under the title "The Ballad of Tim Evans," Americans heard the song via Judy Collins. The Ivy League Trio got there first, but nobody seems to remember them. Over the years, many others have recorded the song as a reminder of how final Capitol Punishment can be. Indeed, many rightly believe that unless it's a very obvious case with total proof, or involving a career criminal, it might be wise to settle for life in prison (which is also cruel and unusual). If it's some bastard who kills his family, or murders and rapes, or kills just to cover up a chump change robbery...hell, fry 'em and be quick about it. 

"10 Rillington Place" was a book by Ludovic Kennedy, which became a grim movie (with perennial victim John Hurt as Tim Evans). It was re-made in England recently as a 3-part TV drama. Several TV documentaries have chronicled John Christie, and if you have a morbid interest in the case,  Kennedy's excellent book is easy to find. There's also the more recent "John Christie of Rillington Place" by Jonathan Oates, which isn't quite as vivid a read, but offers extra details on the case. You can avoid the idiot book that insists that the address housed TWO killers by coincidence. In this scenario, Christie didn't seize the opportunity to perform an abortion (and kill and rape and pretend the procedure just went wrong). Instead, Evans somehow went nuts over the impending second child, and killed both wife and child. 

Christie, amused by his celebrity, and his new status as a dangerous man and not just a mild-looking middle-aged weasel, vacillated between admitting to ALL the killings and just SOME of them. Knowing how people feel about child murderers, he insisted he didn't kill the Evans child. Above, the story as it appeared in the digest-sized PEOPLE WEEKLY (no relation to the current gossip mag called PEOPLE). Below, the Karan Casey version of the song,

THE BALLAD OF TIM EVANS - instant download or listen on line. No bogus link taking you to a porn site or pay site

JIMMIE RODGERS - Happy Birthday and TROUBLED TIMES

Jimmie Rodgers turned 86 on September 18th. Also turning 86, Robert Blake and Fred Willard! There was something odd going on back on September 18th, 1933.
 
It's a miracle that Rodgers survived into his 80's, considering the near-fatal beating he endured after moving from Roulette Records to A&M. Like Phil Ochs, Jimmie chose to switch to A&M in order to explore new and adventurous styles in music. Unfortunately for Jimmie, the label he left was a bit vindictive. Unlike Jac Holzman at Elektra, Morris Levy at Roulette had deep ties to organized crime, and was a thug of near Meyer Lansky proportions. 

At the time, nobody was too sure why Jimmie was followed along the highway, pulled over by apparently bogus cops, and beaten. All kinds of lurid theories were offered. At this point, and thanks to Tommy James' autobiography which outed Levy as a dangerous man, it's apparent that a "hit" was ordered. Roulette was known to not pay royalties and to even issue bootleg-type records that the artists never authorized for release, including tapes of live comedy shows and even audio from TV variety shows. Threats were routine over there. 

Jimmie had moved away from light hits such as "Honeycomb" to more profound material reflecting the late 60's, including "Child of Clay." He was covering middle of the road hipness ("Windmills of Your Mind") as well as the new wave of singer songwriters. He sang Leonard's "Suzanne," and Joni's "Both Sides Now."

But after the attack, the handsome singer lost vital months to rehab, and the affects of his near-fatal beating haunted him and hindered him. "Troubled Times" was the appropriate name of the "lost" album A&M released after "Child of Clay." Other cuts include "Woman Crying" and "The Good Times Are Gone." Rodgers, still suffering relapses and health issues, emerged with his own Honeycomb Family Theater in Branson, did the oldies circuit now and then, turned up at some memorabilia shows, and when his voice was just too shaky, he would do lip sync for his devoted fans, and sign copies of his book and his albums after the show. 

He showed a lot of determination to get through the years. Never lose optimism, even if the reality is that there were troubled times and violence in the 60's, and even more of it now.  PS, also below, you can hear Jimmie's nostalgic and somewhat grim "When I Was The Leader of the Band," performed live for some of his friends.

TROUBLED TIMES by Jimmie Rodgers - no ego password, no link-within-link hoops, no malware
  
LEADER OF THE BAND - no password, no link to a dodgy porn-gif website, no Dutch lunacy

Sinead O'Connor the Martyr, now singing Prince again: Whatever Gets You Through the Crazy

You remember Yusuf Islam. Is that his name? Is that whose name? Some Georgio guy? Is that how it's spelled? Oh, you know, CAT STEVENS. 

People stopped buying his music, around the time he was saying that if a crazy old bastard in Iran thought a harmless writer should be killed, then he should be killed. That Rushdie to Judgment deal. 

Once the money wasn't coming in, the name came back. "Hey, it's ME. It's CAT STEVENS." 

We're all happy that Sinead O'Connor, the one who ripped up the Pope's picture, the one who called white people repulsive...is BACK SINGING "Nothing Compares 2 U." Even if nothing compares to Allah. Let's not be cynical and say that she's in need of money and some good publicity.

All is forgiven. What's a little blasphemy about the Catholics, or white people in general? It was the "crazy" talking. The vapors. 

You remember her tweets from a year or so ago?

"What I'm about to say is something so racist I never thought my soul could ever feel it.
But truly I never wanna spend time with white people again (if that's what non-muslims are called). Not for one moment, for any reason. They are disgusting."

That's ALL white people. You might call it White-o-phobia, but there's no such thing. Islamophobia is what's important in the world. Certainly not anti-Semitism, as nobody cares much about the Jews. Why should they? You think Jews are going to blow up a nightclub? Back to Sinead. 

Seriously, we were worried about her when a few months ago, reports had her going from the frying pan into the fire. I mean, she wasn't in Ireland, she was in....NEW JERSEY.

We don't want the woman sitting in a motel in New Jersey threatening to kill herself. People were desperate to find her because so many people sit in a motel in New Jersey threatening to kill themselves. 

Ah, here we go. Sinead in her lovely bright red nun's habit..er...hijab. Oddjob. Whatever: 

She performed on "The Late Late Show" in Ireland. Not to be confused with "The Late Late Show" in America, which is actually on every weeknight, and has actual viewers. 

The host of the show, trying very hard to be inoffensive, supporting, kind, and nice...and clearly not wanting to get his shirt ripped in half or a bomb shoved down his pants, politely asked Sinead how the new Allah thing was going. Sinead, a model of logic and coherence, said, approximately: 

“Ireland was a very oppressed country, religiously speaking. Everybody was miserable, nobody was getting any joy in God. Whatever the church were teaching, they weren’t happy either. Whatever they were telling you God said, it makes no sense, because everybody’s miserable…"

She's speaking for the entire oppressed country of Ireland, apparently. That was Sinead growing up in Ireland. At the same time of course, in Iran or Iraq or Egypt or Syria or wherever...women like Sinead were delirious with joy. They liked not driving a car. They liked being put into forced marriages after their clits were circumcised. Most of all they liked the fantastic MUSIC they were hearing. Oh yes, and they liked that anybody gay was thrown off a roof and Christian churches were being burned, along with Christians. 

Say, you can't burn churches in Ireland and make people happy. Sinead claims that over the course of her crazy life, she dabbled in other religions, but...maybe she didn't hear much about Islam till ISIS came along? Till a French magazine office was blown apart? Till a disco was bombed to shit? Till people running in the Boston marathon were crippled? Who knows. Oh, right, she does:

"I left Islam last because I had so much prejudice about Islam. I read just Chapter 2 alone of the Koran and I realized oh my God, I’m home. I’m a Muslim all my life and I didn’t realize it…it’s a way of thinking…you could almost be a Muslim without actually officially being a Muslim. It’s a head set…." 

There you are. It's a head case. In case you think the woman has got it together and is firmly a Muslim, allow her to hedge:

"There are things I identify with and things I don’t identify with, but I really really felt oh my God, I’m home…Holy God I’m home…(the hijab) I wear when I feel like wearing it. I don’t know, there’s no rules…I’m not required to wear a hijab…I was born into Christianity…what I like about Islam is I get to keep Christianity and I get to keep Judaism, which are both two religions I love and studied…I used to wear a Crucifix…(in a hijab) people don’t recognize me…it’s cool…” 

Cool. There you are. She can still enjoy aspects of Christians and Jews, and she can take or leave the hijab. Except you know how very severe religions are. Let's take the shi'ites and the sunni. Same religion? Nope. There are subtle differences and they are worth killing over. Same as in Nigeria where Procol Haram or whoever they are, figure they aren't raping and killing black women if they're Christian. Being Christian means they are no longer human. Something like that. 

The Boko bunch aren't like Sinead, who is now Muslim but insists she also represents the best parts of Christianity AND Judaism. Maybe even Druidism, depending on whether she ever walks a dog and lets it pee on a tree.

That stuff about saying how DISGUSTING white people are. Please forgive her, for she knows not what she says when she is periodically out of her mind: 

"As regards to remarks I made while angry and unwell, about white people… they were not true at the time and they are not true now." Believe it because she tweeted it. She's like Trump. Believe in the tweets, and don't wonder if a follow-up tweet may contradict it. 




“I was triggered as a result of islamophobia dumped on me. I apologize for hurt caused. That was one of many crazy tweets lord knows.” 

She doesn't mention who dumped Islamophobia on her. Maybe somebody who wanted to see an Ariana Grande concert and got her leg blown off. The good news is that it's not likely to happen when you go to see a Sinead O'Connor concert, so go ahead. It'll make up for NOT having bought her last album, the one with some pretty good songs on it like "Reason with Me." No, seriously. A good, dark song and it was ACTUALLY titled "Reason with Me." It's about a junkie:

"I stole your laptop and I took your TV. I sold your granny's rosary for 50p." 

That's the way it is with a junkie. They will do anything when they're nuts. And changing their name won't help. Will it? As for Sinead O'Connor...pardon...she's Sadaqat Shuhada. Shuhada is Arabic for "martyr" and Sadaqat means "truth" in Urdu. 

I'm not fluent in Urdu. I'm not even fluent in Erykah Badu. Say, she changed her name to THAT, and was born Erica Wright. We'll get to that when she turns up on "The Late Late Show" in Ireland. 

CREEPY BACHARACH #1: “TWO HOUR HONEYMOON” - Paul Hampton

Why the long face, Burt? Is it because you recognize that you look a bit like Paul Hampton and Jeffrey Epstein? 

Epstein died before he could cover some Burt tunes, like "Do You Know a 3-Way in San Jose," "What the world needs now is love...with 14 year-olds," or maybe "Always Pubic Hair to Remind Me." 

Meanwhile, Paul Hampton can't live down the astonishing "Two Hour Honeymoon," which was a pretty obvious attempt to tap into the "Teen Angel" market of disaster tunes. In fact, it arrived (or rather, crashed) in 1960, well before that look-out, look-out masterpiece, "Leader of the Pack." So give credit for the first song to have skidding sound effects. 

In all fairness, Burt is only responsible for the music. The perp behind the sicko lyrics is the performer himself, Paul Hampton. Hampton at the time was not only involved in the music world, he was an actor, notably in "Senior Prom," (which co-starred comic James Komack and had a brief role for Moe of the 3 Stooges). 

As you see, or squint, the single was "arranged and conducted by Burt F. Bacharach." He was responsible for adding cricket noises to denote the desolate area in which the crash occurred.
He chose the slimy noir sax in the background, one that recalls the Mike Hammer theme song “Harlem Nocturne." This was the era when cynical narrators (including Lee Marvin on "M Squad") described life's miseries while cool jazz played in the background.

People who say “that’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard, bwaa  haaa haa,” are generally dimwits or limp-wrists. If something is terrible, it’s terrible. That’s all. There’s nothing funny about it. What makes songs like “Tell Laura I Love Her” or “Dead Man’s Curve” fun is that they are not only sincere in their dementia, but turn tragedy into art. Somehow.

The problem with Paul Hampton is that his choked-up sniveling is so unpleasant one doesn't feel sorry for him at all. Within a minute, you wish he'd hurry up and drop dead. Usually, you like to savor the agony (as in the gore connoisseur favorite “DOA” by Bloodrock). At least, if the singer is martyrd and woebegone, like Mark Dinning on "Teen Angel," you feel for him even if you have trouble hiding an amused grin. 

Hampton is over-acting as he lies in the wreckage, grumbling that the timing is so lousy and it's his honeymoon, and that his surviving wife should get on with her life. Imagine if the narrator was a hard-luck country star like Jim Reeves or even Jimmy Dean? How about if it was Don Ameche as John Bickerson?


Burt is still with us at 91, and so is Hampton, at 82.  His schizoid career includes singing (not narrating) the peppy theme song for “My Mother the Car,” and for writing the classic “Sea of Heartbreak,” which has had many cover versions, including the pairing of Rosanne Cash and Bruce Springsteen. Hampton's last album was back in 1974 for Ray Stevens’ bathos-loaded Barnaby Records label, and his last film appearances were in 1992 and 1993 (“Waxwork II” and “The Thing Called Love”).  

You'll not be laughing about it being "one of the worst things" you've heard but such a knee-slapper. It IS an experience, though. You might even want to play it a second time, or send this link to some friends, just to shake 'em up. After that, the honeymoon's over. 

TWO HOUR HONEYMOON - instant download or listen online - no passwords or porn ads  

CREEPY BACHARACH #2 “Feelin’ No Pain” - Paul Evans

The guy looks like he's feelin' no pain, right? He might soon be feeling like he's gonna throw up, but that sound effect would only add to the fun of this oom-pah rock waltz. Yes, before the bombastic Tom Jones and "What's New Pussycat," here's Paul Evans, putting on a happy face as he does a tipsy dance. Maybe later on, his high will wear off and he'll drip the tears of a clown, and some piss down his pants leg. 

Burt Bacharach's lyricist for “Feelin’ No Pain” is the usually reliable Bob Hilliard, the guy who co-wrote the hilarious yet passionate “Tower of Strength” (Gene McDaniel) and “Any Day Now” (which had a fine cover version from Judy Henske.). 

We can't say Hilliard is an un-sung genius. His lyrics have been sung very often. With music by Mort Garson, Hilliard gave us “Our Day Will Come.” With music by David Mann, Hilliard penned “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning." With Phil Springer, he came up with “Moonlight Gambler” for Frankie Laine. And with Lee Pockriss, he knocked off the too-cute novelty “Seven Little Girls (Sitting in the Back Seat),” sung by this very same (but sober) Paul Evans.

Bob Hilliard either was sought after by every composer, or he couldn’t get along with any composer too long. Either way, he is long gone (he died in 1971 at the age of 53). "Feelin' No Pain" remains, if not for your amusement, then the same shock diversion as looking at car accident pictures and skank model wardrobe malfunctions in the London Daily Mail. 


Some campy limp-wrists chortle about things that are “so BAD they’re GOOD.” No, they’re NOT.  It's just a symptom of cruelty to snicker on the sidelines and make fun of somebody trying their best and being sincere about it. Or as Shatner would put it, “never was talkin’ about still trying.”
  
No way should you be laughing and enjoying “Feelin’ No Pain.” It’s here to CAUSE pain. Like a car accident, the point might be to see what went wrong and what could've saved it. Evans is no Tom Jones, so his voice can't fight the bombast of the band. He lacks the pathos of an Anthony Newley so you don't feel sorry for the guy who may know what kind of fool he is. 

Then again, this was a B-side, so sometimes you take a swing and you miss, and back then, nobody really expected a B-side to be any good anyway. 

It's cruel fun, sometimes, to laugh and give thumbs down to some utter idiot on one of Simon Cowell's "Got Talent" shows. Somebody comes out, unprepared and tone deaf, and deserves the boos. But here, professional musicians are at work, and if they've struck out, well, we don't laugh when a baseball player strikes out, either. We feel something, though. Which is better than feeling nothing at all, or worse, being a craven campy idiot hooting and knee-slapping because it's "the WORST!" 

Of historical note; the arrangement here is one of the first in attempted pop-hitdom, or pop hit dumb, to use a tack piano. Go ahead and say it: it’s tacky. 

FEELIN' NO PAIN - no pain in the ass password or pesty porn ad download server. no spyware

The late KYLIE RAE HARRIS died on the road. “I’d Rather Be Lonely”

At 30, with a 6 year-old daughter at home, Kylie Rae Harris had to step up the pace. She was already "old" by the standards of today. Consider that Miley Cyrus is 26, and has had years of twirking and sticking her tongue out. 30? Kylie hardly even recorded.

With the guidance of management and a record label, she could’ve turned “I’d Rather Be Lonely” from a good 4:30 song into a 3:30 hit. Just tweak it a bit, girl. Take it down a key, strengthen the hook, and add the right guitar and "beats." But that kind of thing takes money, and thanks to piracy, and people wanting everything FREE, there's not much money around for artists anymore. 

Piracy is people saying "I love music," and then disrespecting it by throwing it around. "Here, have some. Have a discography. Whatever you want, I can find it and post it. That makes me so cool, no?" Piracy also involves saying "I'm sharing!" No, you're not. You didn't buy it, you downloaded "from the original uploader." Sharing? You'll walk down the length of the train if somebody is reading your newspaper over your shoulder. Sharing is giving half your dessert to the person across the table, and you wouldn't even do that for your mother. 

So here's Kylie Rae Harris, being told "the music should be free, make money by touring." Yeah? Where? Night after night booking yourself somewhere that takes hours to get to? Who is paying for the gas and the motel and the food? With people staying home to listen to their stolen music or play video games or whatever, who is going out and paying a cover charge to hear an unknown, or even some old-timer?

Kylie loved music, and enough people liked it to give her some hope. She put out an album and went out on the road again. She asked herself: “for how long? Is there a future in this?" How often can she leave her daughter and play low-paying gigs in small towns and in bars stinking of beer? Kyle wrote a song called “Twenty Years from Now.” She sang, “God I hope I’m still around…” 

On YouTube, recorded live at some MusicFest, it's gotten 280,000 views since it was posted in 2016. The royalty for ALL those views might pay the rent — for a month. The other eleven months? Stay on the road or give up. 

Some retired asshole, using a free blog and getting a government check (to use for buying cheese and beer and action figure toys) wants "nice comments" for sitting on his ass with nothing better to do, and uploading free music for other cheapskates to "enjoy." Yeah. "Nice comments" is what the asshole wants, and whether he's a Dutch douche, a Swedish meatball, or a Croatian scrotum-face, he can translate "Thanks!" No problem. 

When Kylie was killed, some people left comments on this YouTube video, comments she will never see. Some comments, well, hopefully her friends and relatives and her daughter won't have to see, because people can not only be stupid, they can be cruel.

GOD called up a new Beautiful voice. Prayers for her family and friends. Kylie is in good hands. RIP
Nice singing voice..Sad to hear her passing.R.I.P. Kylie..My, condolences goes out to her family & friends.
She had a pretty voice so sad rip.
Kylie is in good hands. RIP
A Beautiful Angel For God ! You,ll live Forever in Heaven Kylie
Godspeed, Kylie. May the Lord bless your little girl and the rest of your family.
RIP beautiful angel. God bless your family and friends
So young, so beautiful and left us ... were their songs as eternal memories !!
What about the innocent 16 year old girl she killed?????
So beautiful.. Life is so fleeting.. We love you Kiley!
"Kylie Rea Harris". God bless and RIP
Kylie Harris is a pig that killed a child if there is a hell hope she suffers there.
KRHs amazing voice will be missed but she flies with the Angels....
RIP Sweet Angel
You went home, your heavenly home.

Kylie Rae was told of the dangers of drinking and driving, but what was the alternative? Stay home? Get a day job and just upload stuff and get a few YouTube pennies? Accept that music piracy is part of today's insane morality, which includes indifference to climate change and gun control, and an ever more overbearing sense of self-entitlement? 

She was on the road, had a little too much to drink, and somehow clipped the car in front of her and veered into oncoming traffic. A girl who never heard of Kylie Rae Harris may have only caught a glimpse of the singer before the crash. Kylie may not have not seen the driver at all in the reflection of her own headlights. Both girls were dead on the road.

Yes, some of the greats in C&W, from Patsy Cline to Johnny Horton, died in crashes. The difference is that back then, it was up to them if they toured or not. It was possible to make a decent living just from writing or performing a hit song and getting radio play and juke box play and royalties from copies sold in record stores. Some artists of that vintage didn't die in a crash, but simply had a heart attack alone in a hotel room in some obscure town, needing to keep touring because the royalty checks stopped coming. They stopped coming when people decided to start blogging: "Here's a complete discography. Come back tomorrow. More stuff! Enjoy! I like MUSIC!"

ALMA COGAN - the giggle laugh and squeak girl - Early Bacharach: KEEP ME IN MIND

I was flipping through a bunch of old magazines stacked in the closet (and I really should've gotten down off the shelf and into a chair).  In a 1955 issue of "London Life," there was a very nice picture of Alma Cogan: 

Remember when a songstress didn't show her crotch or stick out her tongue? When the attention might focus on her smile and on her face? 

Born in the dismal Whitechapel section of London (made famous by Jack the Ripper), she was Jewish, but assimilated quite well, even attending St Joseph's Convent School, mostly because it was a good school. 

When she was in 20, she began to appear on radio, and her singing style had her variously described as "the girl with the giggle in her voice," or chuckle or laugh. A music writer named Dominic Salerno, who prefers the nom-de-snark of Serene Dominic, amended this: "In fact, Cogan's voice had a frequent squeak to it that some listeners might liken more to a fingernail agasint a chalkboard than a laughing kewpie doll." Not my favorite put-down from Dominic. I prefer a line about a singer who he said needed "a huddle with her vocal coach" to find the right key. 

The giggle was spontaneous in one of her early hits, "If I Had a Golden Umbrella" (1953). She kept it and modified it, using it a bit like the hitch you hear in the baby-doll vocals of Gwen Verdon, or the more pronounced yodel-yip of Ethel Merman. With those women, it may have involved trying to sing and breathe at the same time, or generate more power for a high note.  A similar quirk can be heard sometimes with Jimmy Webb, who can't expel without a huff. Singing the word "maniac" (which doesn't come up too often in lyrics) he turns it into "mainy-hack," to get it out. Hah! 

In 1955, Burt Bacharach put music to lyrics by Jack Wolf: "Keep Me In Mind." Wolf's more famous lyric is "I'm a Fool to Want You," but this piece did fairly well for Patti Page, and across the pond, for Alma Cogan. This little trifle was enough encouragement to keep Burt experimenting with different lyricists and pushing toward a full-time career as a songwriter. 

As for Cogan, she was now a full-time singing star, and would soon be joined by another Jewish-British songbird, Helen Shapiro, in scoring hit singles. Alma's musical style started with covers of material sung in America by Teresa Brewer, Patti Page and others. When Beatlemania hit, her Connie Francis-type personality seemed a bit old school, enough for John Lennon to aim some of his sharp wit in her direction. When he actually met Cogan, he fell for her. At least, for a while. One of his many heartbreaks was when Alma died of ovarian cancer at 34. 

Quite a few still carry a torch for the girl with the giggle in her voice.

KEEP ME IN MIND - no password, Rapidgator greed link, or porn ads or sulky whine for "nice comments"