Overcast and breezy days make me want to spin Kinks records. Not sure of the correlation there, but I’m not going to fight it. In reflective times such as these, might I suggest the 1966 classic, Face to Face.
Though she may have a few blemishes, I’ll gladly nab The Animals’ Animalization for a cool $0.92. G’wan have to spin this fool first chance we get. The Animals were my first introduction to the British Invasion, so although I’ve moved on to brighter, Kinkier horizons, I’ll always have a special place in my heart for my first.
1966’s Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton, aka The Beano Album, is John Mayall’s first studio album, and his second overall. Featuring a comic-reading, and marginally defiant Eric Clapton, Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton is widely considered John Mayall’s most popular, although not best, output, and is ranked by Rolling Stone magazine at number 195 of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. Also, I found it at my local brick and mortar for only $1 (hence the title of this post).
Oh, Wayne Newton. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t get enough solid Wayne Newton time these days. It’s a shame, really. The voice of a songbird dressed as a Native-American Las Vegas crooner, Carson Wayne Newton is known to many people by many names. Mr. Entertainment and The Midnight Idol to name a few, Mr. Las Vegas is still performing at the young age of 74, and has a series of upcoming shows in Vegas starting on 11/28 and going through the end of the year. If you find yourself pulling slots and huffing secondhand smoke in the middle of an air conditioned desert, spend a few intimate hours with this Sin City legend.
On the search for a decent rendition of Bert Kaempfert’s Strangers in the Night (a question I ask myself multiple times a day), then look no further than Connie Francis’ 1966 release, Movie Greats from the 60’s. I’m partial to the Rogers & Clarke version, myself.
Starting any viable discography with a Greatest Hits album is both shameful and amateur… but I did it anyway. I couldn’t find either of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs’ first two albums, Wooly Bully and Their Second Album, so I settled for this shameful, yet strikingly enjoyable Best of. As a child of the 80s, it’s painfully difficult to listen to Wooly Bully and not think of the opening scene in 1984’s Splash. I try, desperately, but to no avail. Be that as it may, I’m more than pleased with my disgraceful $7 purchase, I just wish it wasn’t my first by this clever, off-beat outfit. Anyway, happy Friday.
As a general rule of thumb, it’s often and widely understood that starting with the first album by any new artist as an appropriate and logical decision to make. Not the case with Tim Hardin’s first album, Tim Hardin 1 I’ll have you know. His 1966 debut was officially his first record, but it wasn’t his first, or even the second recorded. 1967’s This is Tim Hardin and 1968’s Tim Hardin 4 were both recorded prior to the release of Tim Hardin 1, and I’ll say again (like a broken record), both are by far his best outputs. Sure, Tim Hardin 1 has Reason to Believe, a song in which he wrote, but that which Rod Stewart made famous, and sure it has Smugglin’ Man (a personal favorite), and of course How Can We Hang On to a Dream (another which he wrote), that was covered by Emerson, Lake & Palmer and Fleetwood Mac, but newbies to the Tim Hardin carnival should start at the beginning, with This is Tim Hardin. Thank yourself now, and thank yourself later. You’ve had a rough week… treat yourself.