This was an oops purchase, well, the second copy anyway. Meco Monardo, known primarily for his disco-infused Star Wars album, Music Inspired by Star Wars and other Galactic Funk, continued to tackle box office monsters with his 1978 release of The Wizard of Oz, and this 1979 offering, Superman and Other Galactic Heroes. So nice, we had to buy it twice… by sheer accident. If you can stomach disco, and have an ear for cinematic familiarity, Meco is your man.
What we also know: The Kids Are Alright is a rockumentary, featuring The Who, released in May of 1979.
What we also, also know: The Kids Are Alright is a double LP soundtrack to the aforementioned rockumentary, and contains some of this legendary band’s greatest hits.
The Kids… Are Alright
It’s a Degüello kind of day ’round these here parts. Actually, it’s BEEN a Degüello kind of day for some time coming. It should be on Spotify if you don’t have it (which you should), so be sure to check it out at some point today. Originally slated for today’s post was 1983’s Eliminator… that was until I found some unidentified gunk on the cover. Far be it for me to air my dirty vinyl laundry.
If you’re like me, and randomly find yourself in the mood for some late 70s freaky funk, might I suggest you bust out of L Seven with James Ambrose Johnson, Jr. (aka Rick James) on this, the man’s 2nd studio album, Bustin’ out of L Seven. I mean, the weekend is almost here, so why not let the funk get’cha a head start?
Double analog owner of this “Epic Stereo Cassette” MAY have cycled one official listen way back in the day, but she’s new meat now that Mr. Suave Walkman is in town. One acquires an eye for the essentials, regardless of the medium, while on the frigid hunt. 2 Record Set on One Cassette ain’t too shappy… Epic Stereo Cassette
Get in, get out, not unlike the first release from Goth rock kingpins, Bauhaus. With only three tracks, including a demo for Dark Entries, this 1979 Small Wonder Records release, appropriately titled Bela Lugosi’s Dead, is essential Saturday listening material for those t-shirt and jeans punk rockers looking for something with a little more agony. Listen with caution, friends, but listen often.
Message in a Bottle was one of the catchy, radio-tastic songs I’d heard as a kid that really kind of stuck with me over the ensuing years. At the time, I had no idea who the hell The Police were, but that track and Wrapped Around My Finger seemed to “mean” something, although I couldn’t quite comprehend why. Images of leafing through G.I. Joe figures at the East Town Mall with the lampooning lyrics of Sting pummeling through the speakers is an experience I’ll never forego. That may be why I now own their entire catalog.
They wouldn’t be revered if they weren’t delicious. In the most simplistic of terms, Crass were holders of mirrors, reflecting the filth and smut of humanity. Blaming the frame which holds the mirror is much more popular than facing the impure and whorish tendencies we all inhabit as we stand and reflect. We hope to see something fixed, something humane, but reflection cannot, and does not lie.
Comps! Comps! Get ‘yer Comps! I grew up on comps, and found them to be a lucrative open door into an unknown, and possibly euphoric new world. Sometimes this world is filled with lavish new shapes and colors presented by then unknown artists with which to analyze and follow, and other times the world is a stale, duct-taped collage of one-note forgettables.
Released in 1979, this Casablanca Records 2 LP comp was my “go-to” disco album (as much as a 17-year-old “goes-to” disco in rural Wisconsin) back in 1997, and is a golden what’s-what of radio-raging jams. Shake Your Groove Thing, Y.M.C.A., Last Dance, Hot Jungle Drums and Voo Doo Rhythm, and Le Freak unveil the shawl to many more sweaty, overheated body-gyrating grooves. If you can stomach disco, A Night at Studio 54 is a great beginner’s guide to the ruckus genre, and comes “high”-ly recommended.