Saturday, February 16, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #665
Sat, February 16, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #665.327!
The Rolling Stones – 1962-2019 (57 Year Anniversary) :: “The
Rolling Stones lasting twenty, thirty years—what a stupid idea that would be.” – Lester Bangs, CREEM, December
Stones – Madison Square Garden 1972 (Idle Mind Productions) :: This ultimate expression of obsessive
fandom insanely takes silent, audience filmed, Super 8 footage of the Stones’ two MSG performances; combines it with
what looks like silent pro-shot outtakes from Robert Frank’s infamous CS Blues shoot; and then expertly syncs
it all up with a live recording of both shows. Watching a blank screen suddenly and sporadically erupt into full color, high
decibel footage of the Stones on stage in ’72 is more than an uncanny glimpse into a cinema vérité
view that, by rights, shouldn’t even exist; it’s as if Abraham Zapruder had quit his Dallas dressmaking business
and put his new found documentary skills to use by joining the Maysles Brothers. Oh, and speaking of Dallas…
Stones – Dallas Rehearsals: June 23, 1972 (Teague Raw) :: Sonically speaking, these two discs are
recorded a little on the hot side, but who gives a hoot when they contain over two hours of otherwise good quality soundboard
stereophonics, all presented pretty much in ‘as it happens’ order. Oh, and don’t worry if the performances
are a tad too laconically laid back for your liking ’cause it’s the surprising song selection that’ll make
you sit up and take notice. Y’see, of the thirty-six tracks contained herein, only two or three of them ever saw nightly
service on the ’72 tour. Instead, we’re treated to a suitably scruffy Exile outing that contains an unexpected
plethora of previously unperformed puds ranging from “Ventilator Blues” to “Let It Loose” to “Shake
Your Hips.” Bonus points for including an instrumental “Monkey Man” with an immoral “32-20 Blues”
thrown in for bad measure. It’s an alternate universe song set that never happened—yet strangely did!
VIDEO OF THE WEEK: Muddy Waters & The Rolling Stones – Checkerboard Lounge: Live Chicago
1981 (Eagle Vision) :: It may be Muddy’s show but you’d never know it after seeing how those upstart Stones
make their grand entrance. Anybody else would’ve waited backstage to be introduced by the headliner, but not these
whipper-snappers! Instead, they rudely walk in off the street, smack dab in the middle of Muddy’s set, lollygag in front
of the stage, blocking everybody’s view, until they find a few empty spots in the third row.
Then, when Muddy
graciously asks them to come up and sit in, they ignore him because they’re too busy drinking! Finally, when
they do take him up on his offer, the guitarist decides to take a short cut by walking on top of the tables
to get to the stage. All this plus Ian Stewart tickling the ivories? And Buddy Guy? And Junior
Wells? You’d best believe that’s reason enough for you to stop reading this and buy it now!
Be seeing you!
Saturday, February 9, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #664
Sat, February 9, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #664.326!
Mr. Dead – Original Television Soundtrack Album (Columbia Pictures)
:: Back in the ’60s when horror-themed fare like The Munsters and The Addams Family ruled the rabbit
ear roost, this family favorite was the most avant-garde spook show to ever grace the orthicon tube. Best of all was the catchy
theme song that became an instant chart-topper and school yard sing-along classic: “A corpse is a corpse. Of course,
of course. And no one has heard of a talking corpse. Unless, of course, the talking corpse is the famous Mr. Dead.”
And they call Dylan a poet.
Talking Deads – More Dirges About Funerals And Burials
(Dire) :: Includes the hit single “Death During Wartime.”
Ziggy & The Stooges –
Metallic Tin Machine (Skydog) :: They all laughed when “Jim Bowie” announced that they were going to
swap bands and record an album together. Well, they're not laughing now.
The Rolling Stones – Super
Bowl Live! (Rolling Stones Archives) :: I don't know which is worse: the lousy album title or the fact that they actually
had the nerve to release a 12 minute set on an 80 minute disc.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Cafeteria Dance Fever
– Danceology (Hovercraft) :: I guess I could wax rhapsodic about what kind of record this is, but
everything you need to know about it is contained in the following two vital statistics:
24 songs, 30 minutes.
That’s right, each
fully-formed song clocks in on average at a seriously svelte sixty seconds apiece—and for those of you keeping score
at home, that’s a new supersonic speed record that makes Ramones sound like Berlin played at 16 rpm.
But wait, there’s less! Recorded over the past seven years, some of these songs are new; some of them are old; and all
of them are complex proto-spunk rave-ups which admirably redefine what it means to be a punk band in the 21st Century. Even
better, most of the tracks sound as if they’d been waxed back in 1977 Great Britain.
Cafeteria Dance Fever have a sardonically
scabrous sense of humor and a joyous overwhelming command of their instruments that’s downright primitive—you
know, kinda like that other inspirational group of three guys and a gal, the Velvet Underground. And with space-devouring
song titles that take longer to read than the songs themselves take to hear—such as “Jonathan Taylor Thomas Is
Too Good To Be True” and “A Rainbow That Shoots Nunchucks At People” and “Add Hominid Attack (To Your
List Of Fears)”—what’s not like?
Well, probably plenty since most likely they’ll go their way and you’ll
go yours after just one listen. Which only proves that CDF didn’t make Danceology for you; they made it for
me—and even I can’t listen to all of it in one sitting, it’s that overpowering. But that’s
equally okay because it reminds me of what John Cale once said about his above-noted former band: “Always leave them
Be seeing you!
Saturday, February 2, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #663
Sat, February 2, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #663.325!
Pantera – Official Live: 101 Proof: Pure Against The Grain American
Metal (Elektra) :: I never stop being a rock critic, even when I’m asleep. That’s why I dreamt the other
night that Pantera had released a reunion album with a new recruit to replace their late guitarist. Whereupon, after listening
to it, I opined to some faceless dream denizen: “I love Pantera, but an album without Dimebag Darrell just isn’t
a Pantera album.” So if you never saw them perform live—and have the added pleasure of hearing Phil Anselmo’s
boozy between song Lizard King pontifications on the sorry state of the art—this is the perfect vein to tap. Oh, and
you can take that exhaustive album title to heart because Pantera don’t fool around; if you could distill this record
into a flask it’d make a bottle of 5 Hour Energy look like an industrial strength dose of sleeping pills. Heart monitor
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Bill Nelson And The Gentlemen Rocketeers – Recorded Live
In Concert At Metropolis Studios, London (Convexe) :: Some would tell you that the music business is dead and buried
in a pauper’s grave somewhere, but I’m here to tell ya it ain’t necessarily so ’cause Convexe
Records is here to save the day with a new series of high-end; primo packaged; double audio and single video disc sets which’ll
make you a true believer once again!
First up to the plate to blast one outta the park is none other than Mr. Magnetism Himself,
everybody’s favorite futurist, that supersonic scourge of the airwaves, Bill “Mr. Deluxe” Nelson. The last
time I spoke with Bill was during Be-Bop Deluxe’s final Drastic Plastic tour, wherein he confided to me that
what he really wanted to do next was ditch the big arenas; put a speaker cabinet on some faraway beach; and then
record the sound as the incoming waves deconstructed it. Eventually that plan evolved into Red Noise and the more aurally
astute Sound-On-Sound album, which subsequently led to literally dozens of other electro-ambient air age adventures.
Now Bill is back with
this new three disc set of modern music performed in Metropolis—seen the cover to Live! In The Air Age recently?—that
clocks in at 95 minutes on the auditory scale and weighs in at a respectable 110 on the visual meter. It’s an eclectic
eighteen track time trip that spans his days as a deluxe be-bopper (“Ships In The Night” and “Panic In The
World”) to his solo spasms (“Do You Dream In Color” and “Furniture Music”).
But listening to tracks
like “Sister Seagull” and “Adventures In A Yorkshire Landscape” is only part of the package; to get
the full futurama effect, you have to fire up the video and watch Bill work his axe victim magic ’cause
his voice is as distinctively strong as ever and he can still play a guitar just like a rocket blasting off.
Be seeing you!
Saturday, January 26, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #662
Sat, January 26, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #662.323!
SIZZLING JAZZ PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Animation – Agemo (Rare Noise)
:: Although it’s been decades since Joni Mitchell recorded the world’s first Miles Davis tribute album Aisles
Of Miles, few have followed her exemplary example. Indeed, the last one I can recall that was worth listening to was
2007’s double disc delight Miles From India—until now.
The one also has two discs, but with
a novel twist that’s easily worth the price of admission alone. Y’see, each disc contains covers of the same six
songs, from “Bitches Brew to “Pharaoh’s Dance” with the difference being that the fusionish first
74 minutes disc is a trippy “Headphones Mix” while the Stockhausenish second 49 minute disc is meant
to be blasted outta your speakers at maximum Miles-like volume. And yeah, as you might’ve guessed from the radically
different total track times, each disc contains different versions.
Trust me, this one’s almost as good as if Miles had recorded
– Miles Runs The Voodoo Lounge Down (Columbia) :: Worst Rolling Stones tribute album ever.
ROCK PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Desmond Grundy – Tiles From The Amber Room (Mouthful Of Records) :: In case
you weren’t paying attention the first time around and don’t remember what I said about DG’s first self
released album Oddly Enough way back in MB278, I’ll reiterate for ya:
“So I’m spinnin’ the
first song and suddenly thinking that, no, the absolute last thing I wanna do is say that Desmond is the new Lou
Reed ’cause he seems to be way too normal to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag. But every time I
hear the gnarly destorto guitar grinding up behind him, I get flummoxed into thinking that I’m listening to some kinda
vintage Velvet Underground gradation. And suddenly I’m thinking, yes, that’s cool because nobody sounds
like Unca Lou anymore—not even the old reprobate himself ’cause he’s way too normal these days
to be saddled with that kind of calamitous tag.”
In other words, I didn’t need to have the wisdom of Solomon
to know that this here Grundy had what we in the rock writin’ biz call potential. But the big question on every seasoned
tout’s mind the second time around is: can Desmond deck ya again? Well, as my old pal the Kingfish would say: “He
sho’ nuff can!”
First of all, the album title is straight outta spooky Lynch City where the busses never run
on time—if ever. Even better, he plays all of the instruments by himself in the best Todd Rundgren studio-spazz tradition.
Finally, his voice—which vacillates between Loaded romance and Tonight’s The Night dissipation—is
buried beneath a swirling miasma of destorto fuzzed up beach blanket bohemia that makes Exile On Aladdin Sane St.
sound like like Wish You Were Here.
I just hope that his next album sucks ’cause I’m getting tired of sounding
like a palooka from Payolaville.
Be seeing you!
Saturday, January 19, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #661
Sat, January 19, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #661.321!
Black Mahal – Music + Love + Dancing (self released) :: Strangely
believe it, this one sounds like an ethno James Hyman mash-up that’s been mixed from the soundtracks of several Quentin
Tarantino movies which haven’t been filmed yet. Liberally slather with a sonic spew topping of NPG-era Prince-style
rappolas and you’ve got the ginchiest get down groove since the Love Unlimited Orchestra’s similarly titled Love
Canary Mine – Between A Rock And A Heartbreak (self released) :: Before I got tired
and ran out of rigid digits, I counted close to a baker’s dozen of musicians who created this eminently enjoyable eclectic
collection that covers just about every base you can touch from wailin’ harp blues and acoustic folk to violin country
and e-lec-trickle pop with a sensational side order of stripped-down vaudeville, so get a-steppin’!
– Winter Garden (Rare Noise) :: So I slap this one on the old Victrola without looking at the credits—where
I come from, we let the music do the talking—and the first thing I think of is that this is the greatest
album Eno never recorded way back when the blonde bombshell’s binary brain was continually cranking out music for airports,
films, and high scale hook shops. At which point I’m sufficiently intrigued enough to finally sneak a peak at who’s
responsible for such sparse ethereal piano-fed atmospherics and I see that the guilty parties are none other than Eraldo
Bernocchi, Robin Guthrie, and Old Uncle Een’s Obscure Records label-mate Harold Budd. Which explains why
this excellent ambient album is already on my 2012 Top Ten list: because just when you thought that they literally no longer
made albums like this, along comes one to prove you rongwrong.
SIZZLING EP OF THE WEEK: International
Swingers – International Swingers (self released) :: If you’re in the market for some good old
fashioned rock ’n’ roll that’s been forged to a finely honed edge of exuberant excellence, then you’ve
come to the right place—and that’s because these here pleasure providing International Swingers are none other
than Blondie and Romantics drummer Clem Burke; Sex Pistols and Rich Kids guitarist Glen Matlock; Gen X and Cult bassist James
Stevenson; and Supernaught singer Gary Twinn. Impressive, I know.
Most of what passes for pop these days is pap but, as might
be expected from such a stellar line up of proto-punk professionals, this extended player will have your hot bod bouncing
off the walls and scattering plaster faster than you can whistle in Dixie.
My favorite tracks are the Elmore Leonard-ish “Honey’s
Room” and the aptly-titled rave up “Out Of Control” but go see what your faves will be when you
buy this one at any International Swingers gig. That’s right, these four hep cats don’t have a record contract—yet.
But talent will out, so do your ears a favor and pick this one up after you treat yourself to the kind of live rock
’n’ roll show that Mother used to hate.
Be seeing you!
Saturday, January 12, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #660
Sat, January 12, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #660.320!
Rick Johnson – The Rick Johnson Reader: Tin Cans, Squeems & Thudpies
(Mayfly Productions) :: If the late Lester Bangs is indeed “America’s Greatest Rock Critic”—I happen
to come from the land of the ice and snow where I rank number one in a field of one in a country where I’m literally
the only Canadian rock critic of note; you could look it up if indeed there was anything to look up other than my
own extensive international body of work spanning six decades—then the late Ranger Reek Johnson is arguably number two.
And although Rick sure knew his sports teams and his television shows, it’s his record reviews which ultimately anchor
this excellent anthology, as evidenced by the following accurate analysis of Rush’s wretched Caress Of Steel
album: “Anemic Led Zep with rats sneezing in the background.” And you thought I was good…
PLATTERS OF THE WEEK: Terry Knight And The Pack – Terry Knight And The Pack & Reflections
(ABKCO) :: A long long time ago, I can still remember how the music used to make me smile—especially when I could purchase
it as an abandoned long playing platter at 69 cents a pop.
Which is why, over 40 years ago, I shelled out a cool buck fifty
to buy these two albums at Sam The Record Man where the entire third floor was relegated to being one big dingy dimly-lit
delete bin, ignominiously stacked with thousands upon thousands of dusty drilled out efforts that nobody wanted anymore—assuming
that anybody ever wanted them in the first place—including such cult classics as Lou Christie’s Lighting Strikes,
which reminds me: didja ever notice how the photo of falling rain that they superimposed over Lou’s mug on the front
cover was slovenly slapped on upside down so that it rained up?
Now, thanks to the unbridled benevolence of the Allen And
Betty Klein Company in conjunction with the Greta Garbo Home For Wayward Records And Singles, it’s still raining
up in the world of rock ’n’ roll reissues because these two seminal slices of mid-sixties snapola are back on
the racks as a revived and restored single disc of proto-pop delight which, some would say, puts the “mono”
back in monotonous—but not me!
Terrance would later go on to use these initial efforts as a springboard to ramrod, manage, produce,
and sue Grand Funk Railroad. And although these nascent noodlings do feature a Beatle-banged Mark Farner and an eerily
Afroless Don Brewer, some would say that one listen to this pair of primitive Pack pop paeans will have you running
to Grand Funk’s Live Album to wash the dullness out of your ears—but not me!
Oh, and whatever you do, don’t
dare deprive yourself the pleasure of hearing Reflections’ stand-out track “Dimestore Debutante,”
which eerily evokes Dylan’s “Like A Rolling Stone” from the opening organ notes to the nasally poetic-spouting
vocals, even though some would say it’s a blatant theft—but not me, Babe! No, no, no, but not me, Babe!
Be seeing you!
Saturday, January 5, 2019
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #659
Sat, January 5, 2019 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #659.319!
The Steepwater Band – Dharmakaya (Funzalo) :: Sometimes ya just
don’t wanna think. Sometimes ya just wanna run on feral instinct alone and drain that keg, roll that doob, snout that
line, crank that spike, and then howl rabidly like a speared boar for more more more how d’ya like it how d’ya
like it more more more.
So if wretched excess is the religion you worship daily, then Steepwater’s Dharmakaya
is the sordid soundtrack to your devout dissipation. Weaned on a steady diet of the Allman Brothers Band, not only do these
four longhairs know their Johnny Winter and their Johnny Walker, they sure as shootin’ dish it all out in a
nuclear hoedown of dirty fuzztone lead and slide guitar riffs.
The vocals are a gruntin’ outhouse mass o’southern refried
moonshine that mashes up everyone from Paul Rodgers to Robert Plant with an added dose of nasty blues-steeped harp. Slap this
record on auto-repeat startin’ at four on a Friday afternoon and by the followin’ Sunday morning you won’t
know where you are, who you are, or what you used to be.
But first go take that beer bottle outta the freezer before it explodes, ya dumb
PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Jawbone – Dang Blues (Jawbone) :: I was sitting in the lounge of the Empire Hotel.
I was watching as the Maple Leafs and Red Wings slugged it out. A little woozy floozy staggered over to see. “Wussa
score, Honey?” she slurred at me.
I tried to tell that woman that the game was tied late in the third. Instead she
leaned over and squinted at me like she hadn’t heard a word. She jabbed a finger at me and looked like she was gonna
scream. “Ainchoo that guy who wrote them mean things in that rag called CREEM? I saw your reviews, they’re all
so full of misery.”
I said, “You’re thinking of Rick Johnson, so why don’t you leave me alone?” I told her ’bout
a classic Motor City record I liked by Jawbone. “This guy’s a crazy one-man blues band, he plays a psycho harp.
His slide guitar style’s really raw, it isn’t razor sharp. This kid rocks because he wasn’t raised on snobbery.”
She said, “I know
about this Jawbone, the sidewalk’s where I heard this guy. He plays at all the music festivals although he never gets
I said, “Don’t worry, he will one day: Dang Blues cannot be beat. It’s filed in my collection
next to Exile On Main St. His passion for music’s on display for all to see.”
I drained my drink and grabbed my
jacket; I felt that it was time to leave. As I stood up she lurched against me, balancing herself on my sleeve. “Come
on, let’s hear this Jawbone record,” she said with gin-soaked breath.
Just then the Leafs potted the winning goal in sudden death.
The Michigan papers called it highway robbery.
Be seeing you!
Saturday, December 29, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #658
Sat, December 29, 2018 | link
MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #658!
for your needle-droppin’ groove approval, in semi-strict ethno-alpha-numerical order so as not to show any undue kickback
payola favoritism, is Jeffrey Morgan’s 2018 Top Ten List Of Records as they appear on my official ballot
for this year’s Village Voice rock critics poll, which I’ve been voting in annually ever since Robert
Christgau was kind enough to give me the nod some five decades or so ago. In other words, and I’ve got a million of
’em, these are my Sizzling Platters Of The Year, all of which deserve repeated spins on your old grand-dad’s Victrola.
Don’t ask why! Just buy them!
Frehley – Spaceman (Entertainment One) ● Lesya Rayman
– Going Up (self released) ● Ted Nugent – The Music Made Me Do It (Round
Hill) ● Electronica Pineapple Boys – Hello! EPB (self released) ● Kid
Rock – Sweet Southern Sugar (BGM) ● The Kiddiwinks – Wicked Leisure
(self released) ● The Dark Light – Keep Off The Grass (Unknown Pleasures) ●
Edward Sayer – Underdog / Overlord (self released) ● Brothers In Arms
– Trump For America (self released) ● Various Artists – 23 Classic Blues Songs
From The 1920s Volume 16 (Blues Images)
Saturday, December 22, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #657
Sat, December 22, 2018 | link
MORGAN’S MEDIA BLACKOUT #657.295.347.399.554!
is Bob “Media Blackout” Hope coming to you live from the Big Room upstairs where I’m filling in for Jeffrey
Morgan, who’s away this week celebrating Christmas by listening to some of the latest rice-paddy platters in Da Nang
Trong province. You know what ‘Da Nang Trong’ means, don’t you? That’s Vietnamese for “Exit
strategy? We don’t need no stinking exit strategy.”
but I’m really thrilled to be here on the road to ruin, as my good friend Joey Ramone would say. In fact, all of the
Ramones are up here, although it took them a while to clear customs. They were forty pounds overweight, and that was just
their hair. Yeah, and I hear Joey’s going to record a new Christmas song with Bing Crosby as soon as the old groaner
recovers from that “Little Drummer Boy” duet he did with new arrival David Bowie 41 years ago. Just wait until
he finds out that Joey’s been taking sarong lessons from Dorothy Lamour. Isn’t that wild?
Hey, how about a few reviews!
John Lennon – “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” (Apple) ::
– We Wish You A Metal Xmas And A Headbanging New Year (Armory) :: Look, even I can only take so much
of Bing singing “White Christmas” before I get a hardcore hankerin’ to dreck the halls with gobs of metal.
That’s why I’ve been listening nonstop to this twelve track compilation of carols, which features everyone from
Lemmy to Alice to Dio. I’ll be deaf for Christmas, if only in my screams.
Christina – “Things Fall Apart” (ZE) :: I thought
Britney Smears was a basket case until I heard this record. It originally escaped back in 1981 on A Christmas Record
and it’s still the most mentally disturbed Noël number ever released. And that includes Jerry Colonna’s
rendition of Johnny Bower’s “Honky The Christmas Goose.”
Rhonda Silver – “Chri$tma$ On Credit” (Silver Shadow)
:: You can forget all about Eartha Kitt mewing out the high-priced “Santa Baby” for the umpteenth year in a row
because this is the new torch song for today’s troubled times. You’ll sign up for a government bailout
when you hear sultry songstress Silver croon: “You know that Santa’s got the blues ’cause he ain’t
got no green. Looks like Mrs. Claus has picked his pockets clean!” In other words: Cash is king.
Johnny Cash – The Johnny Cash Christmas
Specials: 1976-1979 (Shout! Factory) :: Hey, and what better way to celebrate the season than by watching this four disc
box set containing the Man In Black’s holiday television specials. Cash doing Christmas would be reason enough to watch
at any time, but what really makes this a seasonal must see is the truly eclectic line up of guest stars, including
everyone from longtime stage stalwarts June Carter and Carl Perkins to country legends Merle Travis and Roy Clark to seminal
Sun rockers Roy Orbison and Jerry Lee Lewis.
Beatles – Christmas Time Is Here Again! (Fan Club Flexi-Disc) :: Hippies.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Mr. T –
“I Told You Hannibal: I Ain’t Gettin’ On No Sleigh!” b/w “Shut Up, You Crazy Yule!”
(T-Neck) :: Boy, I wanna tell ya, ain’t that something?
Be seeing you!
Saturday, December 15, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #656
Sat, December 15, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #656.318!
Jersey – Generation Genocide (Republic) :: Joe Strummer liked
the Clash, too. But he didn’t make a career out of copying them for the rest of his life.
The Cooper Temple Clause
– Kick Up The Fire And Let The Flames Break Loose (RCA) :: More proof that you should never let kids play with
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Sheesham & Lotus & ’Son – 1929: The New Kings
Of Old Time (Sepiaphone) :: The problem with the past is that it ain’t present no more—but if you’re
half the shellac supporter that I think you are, then there’s reason to tip your battered fedora and hoist
a bootleg bottle of hooch ’cause Sheesham Crow (fiddle - harp - kazoo), Lotus Wight (banjo - kazoo), and ’SonSanderson
(sousaphone) are here to transform your day from dreary to cheery with the hottest and heppest halcyon happening since R.
Crumb’s pioneering Cheap Suit Serenaders musically paved a path to the past back in the ’70s.
And for those of
you not in the know, it behoves me to point out that Robert Crumb is nothing less than the 20th Century’s greatest and
most influentially cogent comix creator that the world has ever seen; a modern man cursed with a perverted poet’s soul
who, incongruously trapped in a world he never made, perpetually pines away for a simpler day in a barely electrical era.
Well, what with it being
recorded by one measly old two bit dime store microphone and all, 1929 is the kind of bracing monophonic tonic that’d
make even an old curmudgeon like Crumb sit up and smile. For not only does this twelve track treasure take you back to those
bygone bucolic days of yesteryear, it’ll jostle your overloaded brainpan into fondly remembering how much better yesterday’s
music was compared to today’s complex caterwauling.
But don’t you go thinking that 1929 is some kinda misplaced nostalgia
act like Tiny Tim warbling “Tiptoe Through The Tulips” or the New Vaudeville Orchestra doing the megaphone bit
on “Winchester Cathedral” ’cause it’s as vibrant and vital as a headline torn from last night’s
All Star Final or this morning’s Bulldog Edition—and if you don’t believe me, just give a listen to such
timeless cautionary tales as the double-dealin’ wife-cheatin’ original composition “Drunken Nights”
or the Jaybird Coleman classic of lust on the loose “Giving It Away” with its cautionary lyric: “Well a
nickel is a nickel and a dime’s a dime. I got a house fulla children; ain’t none of ’em mine!”
Bonus points for having
a retrographic album cover design that peerlessly promotes the era in question and has a label design that’s suitable
for framing and worth the price of admission alone. On second thought, mebbe you’d best buy two copies: one
for your doll’s wall and one for y’all the next time you’re having a rent party.
R. Crumb And His Cheap
Suite Serenaders – R. Crumb And His Cheap Suite Serenaders
(Blue Goose) :: Exactly!
Be seeing you!
Saturday, December 8, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #655
Sat, December 8, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #655.317!
Tommy Lee Jones & Will Smith – Men In Black
(Columbia Pictures 2012) :: That call this going “Back In Time”? Why, even a stooge wouldn’t
Moe Howard & Larry Fine & Curly Howard – Men
In Black (Columbia Pictures 1934) :: Exactly!
Huey Lewis And The News – “Back In Time”
(Chrysalis) :: Exactly!
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: King Mob – Force 9 (SPV) :: If I
had a dime for every superhype front cover promo sticker that’s left me less than underwhelmed, I’d come back
and buy this town and give it all, give it all to you. But here’s one superhype front cover promo sticker that’s
worth its weight in solid gold easy action:
“KING MOB are: CHRIS SPEDDING – Guitar! GLEN MATLOCK – Bass! MARTIN
CHAMBERS – Drums! STEPHEN W PARSONS aka SNIPS – Vocals! SIXTEEN – Guitar!”
Okay, so mebbe the exclamation points
are mine, but that don’t matter none, no how, no way ’cause where I come from, we call that a rock ’n’
roll supergroup—and this is one rock ’n’ roll supergroup that’ll have your sorry sluggish
flatlinin’ carcass up ’n’ at ’em at the crack of Dawn in no time flat, boy howdy!
Jr. & Chris Evans & Mark Ruffalo & Chris Hemsworth &
Scarlett Johansson & Jeremy Remer & Tom Hiddleston – The Avengers (Paramount)
:: They’re okay, but they’re no John Steed and Emma Peel—and Samuel L. Jackson’s no David Hasselhoff.
Macnee & Diana Rigg – The Avengers (ITV) :: Exactly!
– Nick Fury: Agent Of S.H.I.E.L.D. (ABC Movie Of The Week) :: Exactly!
FROZEN PLATTERS OF THE WEEK:
Thor & Mick Hoffman – Beastwomen From The Center Of The Earth (ThorToen/Antimatter)
& Thor – Thor Against The World (Smog Veil) :: He comes from the land of the ice and snow
and he’s been rockin’ Asgard down ever since he first appeared on the Canadian permafrost many an eon ago! So
bow down and offer up your nubiles in pudenda parting penance because Jon Mikl Thor is back!
testament is a behemoth “rock odyssey” recorded in tandem with ace axemeister Mick Hoffman! Beastwomen
From The Center Of The Earth is a truly terrifying tundra tale torn from another time that finds the Rock Warrior trapped
in a world he never made! Hear him rail! “When the hammer falls you can hear the dogs howling for blood!” His
titanic triumph over the tenacious tendrils of tyranny is nothing less than a senses-shattering sonic shock to the system!
But it’s on Thor
Against The World that the Thunder God unleashes his mightiest bolts of molten metal yet down upon a world both unsuspecting
and undeserving! Hear him roar! “I am the future! The coming of Thor!” So be it!
beard, verily I doth tell you that the time hath come for a Thor revival! And let it be writ by mighty Mjolnir that there
shall be nothing Loki about it!
Be seeing you!
Saturday, December 1, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #654
Sat, December 1, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #654.315!
Wolf Eyes – Burned Mind (Sub Pop) :: Here’s this Ann Arbor
band’s recipe for disaster: Take a copy of Metal Machine Music. Play at maximum volume. Scream on top of it.
Slice into nine tracks. Garnish with names like “Stabbed In The Face” and “Urine Burn.” Serve cold.
PLATTERS OF THE WEEK: Black Merda – The Folks From Mother’s Mixer (Funky Delicacies) & Various
Artists – Funky Funky New Orleans Volume 4 (Funky Delicacies) :: Boy, do I ever miss the ’70s.
Forget about the ’60s which was nothing but a buncha hippies and leftover beatnik coffee shops that charged an extortionist
sixty cents for a plain black cuppa Joe—yeah, they sure saw the future coming—because the ’70s
had the glitter glam crowd posing next to the punks pogoing next to the zoot suited Afro preeners pimping their ladies in
one giant cross-cultural stylegasm.
Indeed, I remember sitting in a jazz club and watching as a partially paralyzed
Rahsaan Roland Kirk limped off stage half an hour after his set began because the pimps doing business at the bar thirty feet
away were making too much noise. Shortly thereafter, this venerable institution became an upscale new wave club. Then all
the downtown lavender joints had a methbed conversion and went from pansy to punk literally overnight when they smelled fresh
influxes of cash from all the young rubes—which led to such surreal spectacles as hardcore punk bands playing next to
giant statues of Michelangelo’s fig-leafed David. Ah, those were the days my friend and, no, we didn’t
think they’d ever end. Then the ’80s quietly crept up and sapped us on the back of the noggin while we weren’t
looking and that was the name of that tune.
Speaking of which, The Folks From Mother’s Mixer is a compilation
of Black Merda’s first two albums of seminal Detroit wah wah guitar-driven psychedelic funk: their self-titled debut
album from 1970; and 1972’s freakified follow-up Long Burn The Fuse. Whether your agenda is to bear arms or
spread legs, this album contains enough amped-up ammo to perforate either way you play.
Meanwhile, Funky Funky New Orleans Volume 4 offers
up sexteen solid sets of salacious sounds from 1969 to 1973. The lubricious song titles tell the whole story from “Jungle
Weed” and “Turn Me On” to “Sooky Feeling” and “C’mon And Make Me.” And if
you’re up for the down stroke but the down stroke keeps eluding you, I guarantee that one long hit of “How To
Make Love” will put you in the proper pudenda pounding groove.
So if you’re dead set against maintaining the status bro and you subscribe to the Pimp My Pimp movement
that would have today’s Soledrab brothas ditch the baggy rags and dress more like Michael D. “Rooster” Roberts
did on Baretta or Antonio “Huggy Bear” Vargas did on Starsky & Hutch, then these two albums
are made for you, jive turkey.
Be seeing you!
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS ROCK íNí ROLL PHOTOGRAPHS
Tue, November 27, 2018 | link
JEFFREY MORGAN’S ROCK ’N’ ROLL PHOTOGRAPHS
While you’re visiting, don’t forget to view the dozens of essential selections from my vast
archive of hundreds of extremely rare and previously unseen rock
’n’ roll photographs from the 1970s and 1980s—all of which were taken by myself from my front row center
seat at various venerable venues; vintage historical portraits which include the following rock stars caught in their youthful
David Bowie (1976 Station To Station tour) :: Lou Reed (1974 Sally Can’t Dance tour)
:: Iggy Pop (1977 The Idiot tour) :: Bob Dylan (1978 Street Legal tour)
:: George Harrison (1974 Dark Horse tour) :: Paul McCartney (1976 Wings Over
America tour) :: Pete Townshend (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: Johnny Winter
(1976 Captured Live! tour) :: Jeff Beck (1975 Blow By Blow tour) :: KISS
(1977 Love Gun tour) :: Alice Cooper (1975 Welcome To My Nightmare tour) :: Freddie
Mercury (1977 News Of The World tour) :: Amanda Lear (1975 Sweet Revenge tour)
:: Rod Stewart (1977 Foot Loose & Fancy Free tour) :: Mick Jagger (1975 It’s
Only Rock ’n Roll tour) :: New York Dolls (1975 Tokyo Dolls Live tour) :: Keith
Richards (1975 It’s Only Rock ’n Roll tour) :: Ian Hunter (1989 YUI Orta
tour) :: Elton John (1974 Caribou tour) :: Mick Ronson (1989 YUI Orta
tour) :: Steven Tyler (1977 Draw The Line tour) :: Sparks (1975 Indiscreet
tour) :: James Brown (1986 Gravity tour) :: Miles Davis (1985 You’re
Under Arrest tour) :: Roger Daltrey (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: Bruce Springsteen
& Clarence Clemons (1975 Born To Run tour) :: John Entwistle (1976 The
Who By Numbers tour) :: Keith Moon (1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: The Who
(1976 The Who By Numbers tour) :: and more!
Ask any dealer
and he’ll tell you that the best way to get someone hooked on your product is to give them a free sample, so here’s
just a small taste of what’s coming your way when you click on the eleven gallery links to your left:
Saturday, November 24, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #653
Sat, November 24, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #653.313!
Styx – The Grand Illusion / Pieces Of Eight: Live (Eagle) :: Wherein
two compact discs; one video disc; and two classic progressive rock albums performed live in their entirety add up to one
enjoyable exercise in endless nostalgia, all expertly played with peerless note perfect precision, as befitting these master
SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE WEEK: Queen – Days Of Our Lives: The Definitive Documentary Of The
World’s Greatest Rock Band (Eagle) :: Like sand through the hourglass, so are the number of music videos that I
have to watch each week about beat combos that are supposedly “The World’s Greatest Rock Band.” Well, as
it so happens, I’ve seen The World’s Greatest Rock Band perform live in concert and these guys ain’t
it; they’re The World’s Second Greatest Rock Band and they prove it all night in spades on this
exhaustively titled officially authorized and sonically sanctioned audio-visual documentary that’s, well, about as nigh-on
definitive as you’re likely to get.
It don’t matter none whether you go ga ga for clean shaven long haired Freddie
or go goo goo for mustachioed short haired Freddie ’cause no matter which way you swing you’ll wind up on the
receiving end of a bevy of dynamic live footage; an ace accounting of archival interviews; a cool cadre of contemporary interviews;
and more bonus Queen rock videos than you can shake a stick at—and if that’s your idea of a good time,
then bring your dog along and I’ll give him a bonus too.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Lords Of Acid
– Deep Chills (Metropolis) :: What Rob Zombie’s White Zombie are to satirical B movie horror movies and
what Sascha Konietzko’s KMFDM are to satirical socio-political agendas, Pragha Khan’s Lords Of Acid are to satirical
suburban sex-soaked soirées—and with sinsational song titles like “The Crab Louse” and “Young
Boys” and “Drink My Honey” and the ever-popular “I Must Increase My Bust,” you’d best
believe that Lords know whereof they shriek, all backed by a percolating cauldron of techno-syntho beats that’s
so pulchritudinously persuasive it can pop a primed pudenda at thirty feet.
Now, after a self-imposed hiatus of 12—count
’em—12 long years spent brain tripping in parts unknown, the carnal cult responsible for such semenal (sic) sexamples
of forbidden sexcess as 1994’s VooDoo U and 2000’s Farstucker (really sic) is back in the stirrups
again with this brand new spread-eagled sextravaganza that’ll teach you more then a couple of new tricks about what’s
still habitually going on hot ’n’ heavy behind every green door.
Aided and ably abetted by a lush new lineup of
rockin’ reprobaters that includes new femme fatale vocalist DJ Mea, this one sounds like a kooky retrophonic cross between
a Casio keyboard orgy gone feral and a technophonic USB meltdown. Even better, “The Love Bus” sounds like Lee
Hazlewood come back from the Great Beyond to have one final fling with Nancy Sinatra. Bonus points for sheathing this throbbing
monster in a Charles Addams meets R. Crumb raincoat.
Big Brother & The Holding Company – Cheap Thrills
(Columbia) :: Exactly!
Be seeing you!
Saturday, November 17, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #652
Sat, November 17, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #652.312!
The Never – Never (Mo-Risen) :: Arrangements straight outta Queen
via Sha Na Na? Chipmunk vocals á la Russell Mael? A music publishing company called “Watch Out For
Cancer”? Pretentious band names like Ari-Vox, Noah-Vox, Jonny-Vox, and Joah-Vox? Liner notes containing a heartfelt
Earth Day plea to respect the environment by recycling? Alright, if you insist: hello garbage can!
– Poison Arrows (Lookout) :: These breathless boys want to be the new effete darlings of glam so badly that
they’ll do anything to make it—and that includes starting off one of ‘their’ songs with a
note for note copy of Bowie’s “Ashes To Ashes.” Where I come from, we don’t call that a quote.
We call that a theft.
The Thermals – F#!%ing A (Sub Pop) :: They aspire to be thermonuclear
but only manage to deliver a lukewarm thermos payload. Despite worshipping at the shrine of St. Johnny, singer-lyricist Hutch
Harris doesn’t realize that Rotten actually sang his lyrics instead of merely reciting them in a flat monotonic
monologue. Influence is one thing, kid. Inflection is another thing entirely.
Demolition Doll Rods –
On (Swami) :: I was gonna give this one a marginally passing grade for cheap sleazy enthusiasm until I found
out that this slapdash hash, which sounds as if it had been recorded in a concrete bunker during a keg party, was actually
their third album instead of the debut disc I initially deemed it to be—and as The Stooges and New York Dolls
will tell you, that’s one outing too many because two kicks at the can are all you really need to make the grade.
The Je Ne
Sais Quoi – Secret Language (Coalition) :: New York, London, Paris, Munich. Here at jeffreymorgan.info
world headquarters we receive all manner of media from all over the world, like this lump of rump. Now with a name
like “The Je Ne Sais Quoi” you’d never expect these guys to hail from Sweden, the land best known for Ingmar
Bergman movies and an old Stranglers song, but they do. And although it only lasts but a mere sixteen minutes, this extended
player is proof positive that Swedish rock bands can be just as excruciatingly dull as the bands in your home town
are. Everybody talkin’ ’bout schlock musik.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Mixel Pixel –
Contact Kid (Kanine) :: Just as Eno was sonically scalded by the Velvet Underground, Mixel Pixel has been equally
Enossified, right down to starting off “Mantis Rock” with the same cricket menace that Eno ended Tiger Mountain’s
“The Great Pretender” with—but they’re not just out to up the Eno ante exponentially. “Out Of
My Mind” is the Beatles at their most LSD chromosome damaged; “The Drag City Starlet” is Bowie’s “Lady
Grinning Soul” turned inside out and eviscerated; “Gas House Gables” is a Satanic Majesties overdose;
and “I Am The Contact Kid” is Alice Cooper doing “Blue Jay Way.” Contact High School is more
Be seeing you!
Saturday, November 10, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #651
Sat, November 10, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #651.311!
Owl City – Live From Los Angeles (Eagle) :: I never heard of these
nerds before, but after suffering through their mundane music and banal between song banter...
“Los Angeles, California, I
wanna thank you so much for being here with us this evening! It’s kind of a special evening there’s, there’s,
like, cameras everywhere! We’re shooting our first ever DVD so... Please smile... Please look beautiful... Oh, wait!
You’re L.A.! No problem!”
...I never want to hear them again.
Santana – Greatest Hits Live At Montreux 2011
(Eagle) :: Carlos Santana’s greatest hits moment was at Woodstock long before he got stupid and started wearing t-shirts
adorned with the smug mug of mass murderer Ernesto “Che” Guevara. But if you can forgive him that heinous
ethical lapse, then maybe you’ll enjoy these two video discs which prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Stupetana’s
dim-wittedness doesn’t extend all the way down to his guitar playing. But he’s still an ignorant clod.
– Live In France 1961 (Eagle) :: I’ve never cottoned to Ray Charles and I’ve spent years in therapy
trying to figure out why. Initially I thought it was because I didn’t like the way Ray bobbed his head from side to
side—but then my head shinker pointed out that I didn’t mind it when Stevie Wonder did the exact same thing. Then
I thought it was because I didn’t like the way Ray sang in a guttural growl—but then my head shinker pointed out
that I didn’t mind it when Joe Cocker did the exact same thing. So I gave this restored and remastered black and white
television special to my head shinker; cancelled my remaining couch sessions; and didn’t go back no more, no more, no
more, no more.
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Lamont James – Poppies (self released) :: You better
go out and get yourself a box of push pins and a really big map ’cause this here Lamont James is all over it. First
he comes across like some kinda cross between Aquashow era Elliott Murphy and The Beatles era John Lennon
at their most acoustically mellow (“Today”). Next he morphs into Around The World In A Day era Prince
(“Song Of You”) and Candy-O era Cars at their most synthesizer saturated (“Sorry”). Then
he has the good sense smarts to plug it in and crank it up on a cover of Teenage Head’s seminal single “Picture
My Face.” After that he deftly deconstructs things down with an ambient electronic instrumental like “Kaüzendüx”
that eerily evokes Stockhausen at his short waviest. But best of all is track twelve which lasts all of twenty seconds and
contains naught but a syncopated drum solo. “Hey,” thinks I at the five second mark, “this reminds me of
‘Premier Drums’ on The Who Sell Out.” So I take a look to see what the song title is and wouldn’t
ya know that it says: “Moonie.”
Be seeing you!
Saturday, November 3, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #650
Sat, November 3, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #650.307!
Them murderous master race ratzis may have been lousy at winning world wars and taking over the world,
but what they lacked in dictatorial smarts they more than made up for on the Krautrock ’n’ roll front lines—as
evidenced by these three formerly Verboten videos.
SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE WEEK #1: Ian Hunter and Mick
Ronson – Live At Rockpalast – Gruganhalle, Essen, Germany – April 19 & 20, 1980 (MVD
Video) :: First up we have everybody’s favorite deuce on the loose, that joined at the fret titanic tag team of Hunteronson
who separately and together did more for the advancement and preservation of beefy, but never beefcake, kick like a mule rock
’n’ roll than anyone else on the planet—especially Riki Monsoon, who shredded strings for such theatrical
mascara wearers as Lou Reed; David Bowie; Mott The Hoople; and Bob Dylan.
This one shows them on their Welcome To The Club
world tour wherein they plow through a number of Mott classics from “All The Way from Memphis” and “All
The Young Dudes” to a number of solo Hunter classics from “Once Bitten Twice Shy” and “Cleveland Rocks”
to a book ended beginning and end featuring Ronson soloing on “FBI” to begin the show and “Slaughter On
Tenth Avenue” to end it—both of which, frankly, are worth the price of admission alone.
SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE
WEEK #2: Roy Buchanan – Live At Rockpalast – Markthalle, Hamburg, Germany, February 24, 1985
(MVD Video) :: They’re still calling Roy Buchanan “the world’s best unknown guitarist” and
I have to agree, even though I was buying his records back in the ’70s. But if you’ve never heard of
him, let alone heard him play, let alone seen him play, then this performance, which was recorded a mere three years
before his controversial death at the age of 48, is essential viewing to put it mildly.
Buchanan is also the world’s
most visually unlikeliest guitarist you’ll ever see, what with his cocky beret and rummy whiskers and professorial
corduroy jacket. But once you’ve witnessed him effortlessly blaze through everything from Henry M’s “Peter
Gunn” to Booker T’s “Green Onions,” you’ll understand why Roy Buchanan will always remain the
guitarist’s guitarist. As always, the standout centerpiece of the show is his jaw dropping seven minute version of “The
Messiah Will Come Again,” which cleans everybody’s clock from James Marshall to James Patrick and literally
has to be seen to be believed—and even then you’ll doubt what your unbelieving eyes are beholding.
VIDEO OF THE WEEK #3: Public Image Limited – Live At Rockpalast – Zeche Bochum, Germany, October
31, 1983 (MVD Video) :: Last, but certainly not least, is this quaint little full-length exercise in musical restraint
by that suave stylist Mr. John Lydon, who pulls out every stop to show all and sundry why PiL are one of the minimalistically
greatest—not to mention metronomically gratest—regressive art rock combos to ever hit the boards. Then again,
with a set list that impressively includes everything from “Public Image” and “Flowers Of Romance”
to “(This Is Not A) Love Song” and “Anarchy In The U.K.” how can you go wrongo, boyo? Bonus points
for including rehearsal footage of “Annalisa” and “Chant.”
Be seeing you!
Saturday, October 27, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #649
Sat, October 27, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #649.306!
Phil Spector – Back To Stereo (Philles) :: After the Supreme Court
refused to overturn the life sentence of convicted murderer Phil Spector—thus ensuring that he’ll stay behind
bars where he can’t threaten anyone anymore—every record company that the disgraced producer ever worked for jointly
agreed to delete all of Spector’s original mono recordings from their back catalogues and then have Academy Award winning
Lucasfilm sound sculptor Walter Murch digitally remix the original studio multi-tracks into THX benchmark stereo and 9.1 surround
sound at Skywalker Ranch. As one veteran record executive explains in the liner notes to this ten disc box set: “I’ve
been waiting to get back at that bald-headed bastard ever since he pulled a gun on me during the recording of ‘He
Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss).’ Mono. What does that woman slayer think this is, anyway? 1950?”
PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Andre Williams – Hoods And Shades (Bloodshot) :: The first thing you notice is
that the album cover comes gang bangin’ atcha straight outta some kinda drive-by ghetto blasted vintage blaxploitation
one sheet: I’m talkin’ ’bout a tricked out pimp daddy flashin’ dual solid gold JAIL and BAIT knuckle
rings with his meaty mitts wrapped around two dishy thunder-age bikini-clad gun-toting foxes; a Cagnesque exploding oil refinery;
a double barreled pump action guitar; a trench coated machete wieldin’ maniac escapin’ a fiery inferno multi car
collision via a danglin’ helicopter ladder; plus a sinister as sin cadre of terrorist fist-jabbin’ Unabomber
And with songs like the moralistic “A Good Day To Feel Bad” and the animalistic “Jaw Dropper”
and the hoodooistic “Mojo Hanna” you’d better believe that this one’s got the ginchiest gonad-grabbin’
goods ’cause Williams has forgotten more about life than you’ll ever learn so mebbe it’s about
time for you to pick up on what he’s putting down, y’hear?
SIZZLING VIDEO OF THE WEEK: The B-52s –
With The Wild Crowd! Live In Athens, Georgia (Eagle) :: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: show
me a live-in-their-hometown reunion album and I’ll show you a lazy litany of last gasp let down expectations—but
not this time I won’t ’cause this is the most kinetically frenetic fun fiesta since their pulsating
Party Mix! radically redefined what a remix record should sound like. And now that you can actually see
them in action on this outta sight two hour video in their Day-Glo get ups in front of a vertiginous Time Tunnel
backdrop, you’ll agree that these kitschy camp runamuck jive bombers haven’t missed a strategically placed lick
since their “Private Idaho” and “Love Shack” hit single heyday. Not only do they rock harder than
ever, their witty retro-ironic antics jibe with today’s pop culture landscape in a kooky cool way that vitally resonates
even more than it did thirty years ago. That’s why the line to elect supersexy Cindy Wilson into the Rock Hall starts
Be seeing you!
Saturday, October 20, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #648
Sat, October 20, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #648.305!
The Monkees – Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd. (RCA)
:: While the Beatles and Stones spent 1967 getting doped up and recording their hippy-dippy stoner albums Sgt. Pepper’s
and Satanic Majesties, these hardcore radical Yankee outlaws were singing about drug pushers (“Salesman”);
horny teenage sluts (“She Hangs Out”); a naïve girl getting brutally gangbanged by the Hells Angels (“Cuddly
Toy”); promiscuous groupies on the prowl (“Star Collector”); and suburban surreal estate (“Pleasant
Valley Sunday”). That’s right, a Hells Angels gangbang. Who you gonna believe: me or your own ears?
PLATTER OF ALL TIME: Rolling Stones – Live At Altamont (December 9, 1969) :: And speaking of the Hells
Angels, you can watch Gimme Shelter over and over again until the cows come home but you’ll never
be able to truly understand the horrific tragedy of Altamont until you’ve lived through this harrowing audio experience.
If anyone in
the entire history of rock ’n’ roll ever deserves to be awarded a Purple Heart for bravery far above and beyond
the call of duty, it’s the five anonymous fearless audience members who had the guts to tape the individual pieces that
collectively comprise this complete hour and a half concert, which was recorded during the middle of the night in what was,
literally, an outdoor combat zone patrolled and brutally enforced by a hostile horde of Hells Angels.
What makes this aural document the
most historically important Rolling Stones live concert ever is that, unlike a sterile soundboard tape, this revelatory
recording plunges you right into the front row at Altamont as an actual audience member instead of as a
safely detached spectator—and it’s nothing short of astonishing to hear how rapidly events inexorably
Minutes into the first
song one audience member cheerfully says: “Have a good time!” To which another replies with equal ebullience:
“You too!” By the third song everything’s already irrevocably doomed. “Let me outta
here!” someone yells, only to be anxiously told: “There’s nowhere to go, man!” When the singer
impotently demands to know “who’s fighting and what for?” an irate man instantly bellows back at him: “Who
do you think?” Next a woman screams: “Get a doctor!”
By the time Sam “Everything seems to be
ready, are you ready?” Cutler takes the microphone to announce: “We’ve also lost, in the front here, a
little girl who’s five years old” and the band breaks into—wait for it—Jimmy Reed’s “The
Sun Is Shining,” everything has become so surrealistically appalling that you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
When they eventually get around to playing “Brown Sugar” in public for the first time, one person has been murdered
and who knows how many others have been injured.
“...like one of you could control one little girl...”
the singer admonishes.
And the band played on.
Be seeing you!
Saturday, October 13, 2018
JEFFREY MORGANíS MEDIA BLACKOUT #657
Sat, October 13, 2018 | link
MEDIA BLACKOUT #657.304!
Automan – Backseat Surprise (Unkle Dunk) :: It’s a good
thing that Darrell Dwarf—double d, geddit?—Miller is a better singer songwriter than he is an album cover
designer ’cause his “record design, concept and graphics” suck worse than an unplugged Hoover with a full
And speaking of full bags,
I’m all for having some anonymous skirt’s double d’s displayed on an album cover but the next time
around he really oughtta hand-jive some Ohio Players jackets for inspiration first—at least they didn’t
neuter their nude cover photos by running them as a pseudo-solarized negative image. That said, the music is an appealing
power pop pud that owes more than a little to the kind of boozy bar band bombast that made the ’70s famous.
And speaking of the ’70s, here’s an acidic flashback to the September 1976 issue of Cheap Thrills when
I was just a callow youth who wrote the following record review and actually thought it was funny; then again, I did
edit the rag, for Pete’s sake.
And speaking of Pete Townshend, who recently wrote a public apology for using offensive
words like “blacks” and “queers” and “rape” when he wrote Quadrophenia in 1973,
I likewise echo his sentiment that: “One day I would be made to apologize. I do so here. Now.”
Thankfully, after decades
of intense sensitivity training, my writing style has now evolved over the past 40 years to the point where I would never
write something as irresponsibly heinous like this today:
SIZZLING PLATTER OF THE WEEK: The Ohio Players – Contradiction
(Mercury) :: It’s long been a proven scientific fact that all women have brains the size of a pea. I know it,
you know it, and the Ohio Players know it. Just like Pleasure; Pain; Fire; Water; Ecstasy; Money; Leather;
and Greed before it, Contraception continues the Players’ search for the Eternal All-Nite Party
and the funky, foxy All-Nite Lay that goes with it in some secluded upstairs bedroom.
I mean, just dig these liner notes:
“I’ll only use you when absolutely necessary...” Right on! And how about these lyrics: “Women
are feminine and that’s all right with me ’cause they make my manhood feel good.” All right, indeed!
And dig that naked broad ridin’ that horse inside the fold-out sleeve! Thumpa Thumpa City! You betcha!
Them Ohio Players know
that a woman’s proper place is either in the kitchen makin’ dinner or in the bedroom makin’ babies. So keep
the OP on the turntable at ALL TIMES ’cause you never know when you just might be in the mood to put your lady in her
proper place (and we all know where that is).
Next to the Ohio Players, Barry White is a fag and all women nuthin’ but slaves.
Do you hear me? SLAVES! Alright, it’s time to get down. You know what to do. Now get to it.
Beulah, peel me a grape.
Be seeing you!