This particular copy of Bob Marley and the Wailers’ fifth studio album, 1973’s Catch A Fire must have endured considerable play by the original owner, as this sleeve is absolutely filthy. Record hygiene must have been completely abandoned leaving me to feel the incessant need to scrub my mitts every time I give her a spin. I wonder, to myself, obviously, what would be a proper cleaning solution to clean album covers.
Well, it was only a matter of time until we got to the Steven Tyler-led, 70s monarch, Aerosmith. Hard rock, for the ears of fans who only knew soft rock (I apologize to no one), Aerosmith cemented their historic, decade-looming monument with 1973’s Dream On, although it didn’t receive commercial appreciation until its 1976 re-release, and although my interaction with the band didn’t “officially” occur until the mid-sorry-nineties, one growing up in rural Wisconsin does not go a casual day and not stumble across a bit of Aerosmith, in whatever iteration that plop-cultured medium deemed fit.
We touched upon the unauthorized “collateral” vinyl version a few years back, but I just got my grubby mitts on an 8-track copy of the 1973 lawsuit-inspiring classic comp, The Great Lost Kinks Album. Featured here are both the cartridge and the original sleeve (which is essentially the same sticker used for the tape, covering a generic black cardboard sleeve). I need to get an 8-track cleaner to fully enjoy this historic little gem, but my 8-track obsessed mind can gleefully cross off yet another Kinks Stereo 8. Next on the coveted list of “must haves” is 1971’s Muswell Hillbillies, arguably my favorite Kinks package. The Prudent Groove… collecting obsolete and sub-par music formats since 2013, and not second guessing a minute of it.
Released in January of ’73, this, featured copy of Artificial Paradise, The Guess Who’s 10th studio album, is, unfortunately, missing the cool, direct-mail-mimicking paper sleeve. I only just found out about this jacket’s existence by researching the album for this very post. Apparently, this tongue-in-cheek approach didn’t help sales for the Canadian pop-rock band, and this album, complete with exterior sleeve, was a frequent find throughout brick and mortars will into the 1980s (remember, it was released in 1973).
As for the music, if you ask me, one can’t go wrong with any The Guess Who, but that’s just, like, my humble opinion, man.
In dedication to a man whose company and friendship I miss on a weekly basis, I offer the gate(un)folded art of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s 1973 debut, (Pronounced ‘Lĕh-‘nérd ‘Skin-‘nérd). “Randall, my dear friend, you are drunk.” At which you would reply, “Yeah, but at least I’m not stupid.”
Have a good Saturday, kids.
41 years ago today, a dark wave of grief eclipsed the mournful sun as across the airwaves read… Jim Croce is dead. So long the Leroy Browns and the Roller Derby Queens. So long the big executives and the car washers; the pool hustlers and the moonshine runners. All these majestic characters would be, forever, laid to rest, on the 20th of September, 1973.
RIP Jim Croce.
Bring home the gift of timeless music with this collection of Harry Belafonte favorites. With this limited time offer, you can enjoy such chart topping classics as, Jump Down, Spin Around, Angelina, Cocoanut Woman and many more! Not only is Harry Belafonte a handcrafted compilation of previously released material, it’s also pressed on dynaflex, which as you know is:
The RCA trademark for a new development in record manufacturing that provides a smoother, quieter surface and improved ability to reproduce musical sound. This lightweight record also virtually eliminates warpage and turntable slippage.
Harry Belafonte: offering affordable classics while instigating the right wing since 1952!
I’ve only recently begun collecting solo Beatles’ work, but my father owns just about everything, so for the next week or so, I’ll enjoy perusing through his Beatles-heavy collection and making a well-thought-out checklist.
George Harrison’s Wonderwall Music is next on the platter, but will more than likely NOT yield a post. Busy day over here… off and running!
What once was lost… should sometimes remain lost. Not the case with this arousing little nugget of Kinks history. The Great Lost Kinks Album, for those of you who don’t know, was NOT in fact an album recorded by the band that was mysteriously whisked away by the inevitable hands of fate, then miraculously found and released some seven years later to a wide and welcoming audience. Instead, The Great Lost Kinks Album was a compilation of B-sides, film and television themes, songs written and performed by Dave Davies for his never-released solo album, and various other unreleased tracks.
Apart from containing some pretty damn rare (at the time) Kinks tracks, TGLKA (you can figure it out) was not authorized by the band, and according to the lovely Wikipedia article, Reprise, the label, never even informed the band of its release. According to the same article (mentioned in the previous paragraph), the band (The Kinks… keep up) became aware of the album only after it appeared in the US Billboard charts. A lawsuit ensued and Reprise was forced to discontinue the album in 1975, some two years after its release, and the rest is Kinks history.
On a COMPLETELY unrelated note, why are we still fastening our shoes with string? Velcro tried (and failed) in the 80s, but it’s 2013, people! We haven’t developed an updated technique with which to secure our feet clothes? We need to get to work!
I shudder to think what unspeakable things happened to the previous owner of this album, Jeanette Cannon, and why her coveted, signed copy of Dick Clark’s 20 Years of Rock N’ Roll was simply lumped in with a string of unlistenable drivel on the bookshelf at my corner thrift store.
I hope Jeanette Cannon had an enthusiastic experience upon meeting Mr. Clark and that every time she played this double LP, she’d look upon Dick’s inscription and, like the timely music found within, would find herself carried off into a warm, blissful memory.
I had these thoughts, until my investigatory mind began to churn. You see, back in the day, owners of albums used to bring specific selections of their personal music library to social gatherings and what not, and because they’d all want to make sure they left with the music they’d brought, these planners-ahead would all write their names on the albums, as to squash any confusion upon closing time. Makes sense, right? As you can see, this copy of Dick Clark’s 20 Years of Rock N’ Roll is no different. So, Jeanette Cannon wrote her name on a sticker on the bottom right corner of the cover: Clue #1.
“To Jeanette & Freddie
Two good friends
Jeanette & Freddie… hmm: Clue #2. So I do some quick Google search for Jeanette Cannon in Los Angeles and not much comes up. I paid it no mind, put the record in the “to listen to” pile (a rather large pile, by the way), and didn’t think about it again until this morning when scouring the collection for something to write about. This time, however, I Googled Freddie Cannon, and what I found was something of a pleasant surprise.
According to www.freddycannon.com, the man was quiet famous in the music world of the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, and went by a name you may have heard of, Freddy “Boom Boom” Cannon. This site also confirms that Freddy’s wife’s name is… you guessed it, Jeanette Cannon. What threw me off was the variation in the spelling of Freddy, as Freddie by Mr. Clark, but a few minutes Googling reveals this to be a common alias for Mr. Boom Boom.
So, this double LP was personally presented, by Dick Clark, to Freddy “Boom Boom” Cannon, and his wife Jeanette sometime in 1973. It was loved, cherished, toted around to casual dinner parties, and played with an illuminating fondness for the past… that was until about a month ago when I discovered it at a thrift shop and purchased it for $4: Mystery solved.
It’s not often I find signed Dick Clark records at my local thrift stores, but when I do, it’s comforting to know it was a personal gift to Freddy “Boom Boom” Cannon and his lovely wife, Jeanette.
I’d mistakenly written-off ZZ Top by the time I saw them at Alpine Valley in 2003. It took less than a minute into their first song for me to realize how strikingly wrong I had been about this Texas Blues-Rock band.
I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know about these guys. Yes, they formed in 1969. Yes, they’ve been around for over 40 years, yes they are still touring and yes, the three members have ALWAYS been Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard (listed on the back of this album as Rube Beard). What I will impart on you is the desperate suggestion of not doing what I did. Don’t write-off this band without giving them a proper listen. This is 1973, and this is American Blues-Rock at its finest.
Tres Hombres (translates to “Three Men,” courtesy of The Prudent Groove) is ZZ Top’s first Top Ten record, and the band’s third release overall. Although ZZ Top’s First Album (1971) and Rio Grande Mud (1972) offered a glimpse of the unquestionable talents of these “Three Men,” it wasn’t until Tres Hombres and its soul-crushing hit, La Grange, that the music world saw just how incredible this Texas band was.
La Grange is a nonstop, blood-boiling staple of Blues inspired Rock ‘n’ Roll. It’s chock-full of hard-rocking fire with a groove so catchy, you’ll swear you’re hearing it blasting from a dead-silent room. If you ask me, ZZ Top never reached the creative watermark set by La Grange, but looking back at their extensive catalog throughout their 44-year existence, they’ve come pretty damn close a number of times.
Do yourself a favor and pay attention to those rumors spreading around about that brothel outside La Grange, Texas. Word has it they have a lot of nice girls-ah! Oh, and don’t forget a ten-spot for the door.