A recent acquisition from the local thrifty, this copy of Harl Smith’s rendition of Bring Back Those Rock-A-Bye Baby Days on murky, burgundy shellac plays perfectly at 78 revolutions per minute, and is yet another dime store reminder that I desperately need another (or two) handy-dandy 78 books. I had the opportunity about a year ago to snatch up a few more, but balked at the $10 price tag. I’m kicking myself as I type this. Happy Saturday, kids!
Tag Archives: music
Happy Floyd Friday!
I was first introduced to, but didn’t foresee the longevity of, Floyd Friday by my acclaimed Art teacher back in High School. The Wall (the film, not the album), Division Bell, and sometimes the occasional P-U-L-S-E (with its eternal blinking red light nestled atop the compact disc player in a neat row with the remainder of Floyd’s catalog) were always anticipated week-ending ear-treats throughout my Junior and Senior years.———————
It wasn’t until many years later that I unearthed the “real” essence of Floyd’s work… their early albums. Featured here is a poor man’s comp of their first two albums Piper at the Gates of Dawn and A Saucerful of Secrets. Gone are the wistful guitar-driven soundscapes and jazz-influenced saxophones found in Division Bell, and pleasingly pleasant are layer upon ominous layer of experimental, carnal, and brilliant psychedelic drug-rock. The appropriately titled A Nice Pair is an affordable option for someone looking to bath themselves in the radiant dawn of Floyd, and is, in my humble opinion, by far the band’s best recorded work. Happy Floyd Friday, everyone!Wet Lovin’
My history with the famed prodigy of sensual sleaze is both long and enduring. Having accidentally stumbled across his sexual shtick back in 2000 at a sold out Alkaline Trio / Hot Water Music show at a now unknown Chicago club, my 21-year-old self couldn’t quite comprehend exactly what the hell this beefy, golden-voiced Midwesterner was doing up on stage between sets. His passion and talent eclipsed the belly laughs and sneers from the late winter crowd, and I was instantly struck with a rush of awe and morbid curiosity. I believe he played two songs that night, one of them being an early favorite (thanks to this “show”) Baby Do You Like My Clothes?
This album, Har Mar Superstar’s first, features the two bonus tracks, Wet Lovin’ and Sexual Contractor, and was acquired at the now defunct Atomic Records in Milwaukee. I distinctly remember a brief conversation with the store clerk and his overt disdain for my purchase. To each their own.
Underneath the wet and slippery layer of erotic bravado is an imaginative and intelligent songwriter with a beautiful voice, and the zeal of a thousand burning suns. Go in for the laugh, come out with overwhelming appreciation.
GHS/XXXG 24148
I must admit that I’ve never heard of The Dead Pool, but it’s pleasant to see Welcome to the Jungle and Sweet Child O’ Mine get their due respect, as seen here on this Gn’R Appetite for Destruction reissue (non-banned cover). Found this fool at a Goodwill… a jungle of another sort.
Modeling Just Sucks…
A personal greeting from Mr. Nathaniel Merriweather and Mr. Chest Rockwell, circa: 2005. Enjoy your random Tuesday, kids…
2014 Hillbillies
It doesn’t take much for an avid Kinks fan to purchase an album (for the third time), when a bonus disc is involved. If you’re smart, you already own The Kinks’ 1971 masterpiece, Muswell Hillbillies. If you’re late to the game, do yourself a favor and pick up 2014’s remastered double LP with a vinyl pressing of this amazing “bonus disc” chock full of alt takes and BBC session what-have-yous. It’s a great way to experience a classic album with new, stereophonic ears, and that’s all I’m willing to say on the matter.
Stick It
Badge of principle, badge of distinction… badge of excellence. Rocket from the mother fuggin’ Crypt! (May 30th, 2015).
Broken Boutique
Aside from owning this album twice on vinyl, (I’m going to want to say) twice on cassette with reissue clear, and original blue plastic), I felt obligated to purchase her twice on compact disc. If you’re one to notice subtle, yet striking detail, you’ll notice that compact disc on the far left has a bit of an unplayable crack. I don’t recall exactly HOW this crack occurred, but I distinctly remember WHERE it happened. It was my turn to cue up the boombox in the back kitchen at the Madison, WI Westside Dominoes back in, well, let’s say 1998. For years after, I’d suffered through the subpar digital rip (center disc), until finally breaking down (read: coming to my senses) and purchasing another, brand new copy. These were the end days leading up to the digital revolution, and now, all portable traveling music is consumed by the trusty, yet still too small, 160gb iPod. Why this shit story? If you’re an avid reader of the Groove, you’ll know that I’m a staunch fan of giving respect where respect is due. My original copy of Paul’s Boutique got the shit played out of her, and went out serving me, and my cohorts well. Of course, I had to keep it.
Post #800 aka Drink to the Groove
And on the 800th day, we drank (and how exactly is that any different from the past 799?). Cheers your first libation tonight to us. We thank you. We’ll cheers our first to you for allowing us to waste your time these last 800 days. The morning light may bring with it hell’s fury, but tonight, we celebrate our 800th consecutive day. Cheers!
…of the Year
In 1962 (from what I can gather), Stan Kenton was Playboy’s Jazz Leader of the Year. What does this mean you ask? It means that his 1962 Capitol Records album, Adventures in Time, A Concerto for Orchestra got a blaze orange sticker (with now 53 year old adhesive) slapped prominently across this album’s minimal cover. 53 year old stickers on album covers, man! K’mon!
I Want Churros
Have a listen, and tell me the demonic-digitized-robot voice isn’t proclaiming its love for the delicious, fried-dough, calorie-heavy pastry.
I want churros
I need churros
All of Us Can Be Rich…
This sealed copy of Ec8or’s 1997 comp has been on my “to digitize and enjoy on the company iPod” for the past 4-6 years. It’s now 2015, and I’ve still not broken the musical seal. Did I set her aside as a reminder for a weekend project? Nope… and back into the cavernous stack she goes. Perhaps in another 4-6 years, I’ll think of her again, and maybe this time, her seal will be broken.
Departure
Any way you want Journey, that’s the way you need Journey… any way you want them. Released as the band’s sixth studio album in the dawn of the new, yet uncertain 1980s, Departure features 12 slam-bang journeys (see what I did there?) into arena-rock’s mysterious and flowing void. Although not as successful as 1981’s Escape or 1983’s Frontiers, Departure scratches that annoying and repetitive Journey-itch both efficiently and successfully. Although you can’t slow dance to Any Way You Want It at Jr. High dances, it deserves a proper spin.
Take a journey atop the gay-friendly, multicolored beetle-bug of yesteryear, any way you want it.
‘69
With its jaw-breaking (and previously unreleased) b-side (Ciao Patsy), 1995’s unforgettable 7” single from RFTC’s flame-thrower, Scream Dracula Scream was, unfortunately for us Yanks, released only to the luxurious fields of the UK market. One of the band’s more prevalent tracks (mainly regarded by part-time Rocket fans as their pinnacle achievement*), Born in ’69 is as perfect as it is bewildering, and as rawkus as it is musically delicious.
* Lack of evidence supporting this juvenile claim.
Computer Down!
My laboring 8-year-old MacBook Pro is currently coughing up blood, so here is an unplanned photo from a few weeks back. I call it: Listening to a New 78 While Drinking Spaten Dunkel and Not Realizing How Soon the Crotchoddy Old MacBook Pro Would Spew its Final Breath.
I’ll Work Anytime, Anywhere
You’ve got to love Bernard Herrmann. Yes, that was an overly simplistic statement. Consider what this, exceptionally short list of films would have been like without the brilliant Herrmann touch: Vertigo (1958), Citizen Kane (1941), Psycho (1960), The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), and his final score, Taxi Driver (1976). I want not to imagine an inhumane and colorless world such as that. Do you? I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… ad nauseam. Give credit where credit is due, kids.
MW034 LP
Lo(unge)-Fi keyboard extraordinaire Mark Ramos Nishita, aka Money Mark released his debut, Mark’s Keyboard Repair on UK staple Mo’ Wax Records back in 1995. Mr. Money is, of course, best known for his artificial ivory works with the Beastie Boys from 1992’s Check Your Head through the band’s final offering with 2011’s Hot Sauce Committee Part 2. Releasing seven full-length studio albums throughout his solo career, Mark’s music follows the lackadaisical-lazy-groove style of Luscious Jackson, Buffalo Daughter, and other lesser-known Grand Royal virtuosos.
The photo above is an artsy little number featured on the insert record jacket to Mark’s Keyboard Repair. The more you know…
Like, Ship Arriving Too Late to Save a Drowning Witch
Minimalist? Fer sure!
Simplistic? Like, totally!
The cover to Frank Zappa’s 1982 album, Ship Arriving Too Late to Save a Drowning Witch holds a prominent place on the back cover to its 7″ single, Valley Girl, and has been, until this morning, looked over and ignored by yours truly. I mean, the totally bitchen LP should be on the “must have” list, like, that would be so awesome, I’m sure! Respect the music your elders dug, kids.
The Great Lost Kinks Cartridge
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.
The Biggest Little Catalog
If you like Herb Alpert, Lucille Starr, The Baja Marimba Band, and overall great music in general, have a look-see at the biggest little catalog insert by A&M Records. Issued in 1965, this esthetically pleasing record jacket features the clever inclusion of Herb Alpert’s trumpet integrated within its logo, and is a reminder that functionality can also offer top-notch design. A&M Records, and it’s oxymoron catalog come highly recommended for easy listening brass background music. Cheers, kids.
The Prudent Groove 