Sex sells, and so do lottery tickets. Hendrix was. His legacy is. Fervent toils remain unraveled over the greatness of this 6-stringed beast. Let them toil and snare, grieving for future’s ears. The future was last week, as well as tomorrow. Let time prematurely leak its incessant novelties, and let the cautious remain cautious.
RIP Johnny Allen Hendrix.
Happy October 10th to all of you music lovers out there. Happy Friday night for those of us on the West Coast. Offered up this fine fall evening is a 24-track, 2-LP comp of Hank Williams’ great hits titled, The Great Hits of Hank Williams. As a member of both the Country Music and Rock and Roll Halls of Fame, Mr. Williams remains as influential a songwriter and musician as any other single titled artist. Cash is classic, Dylan is decent, but Williams will forever be without end.
RIP Hiram King Williams, Sr.
You know that when you’ve started measuring out your cocktails, there’s an issue onboard the gravy train. 1988’s glam metal pop sluts from Pennyslvania made a shit-ton of parents unhappy with their questionably abhorrent cover for Open Up and Say… Ahh!, their second, and most successful makeup-laden album.
Competing against Def Leppard’s Hysteria (a personal fav), Bon Jovi’s New Jersey (another adolescent treasure), and Guns N’ Roses Appetite for Destruction (arguably the best album every released), it’s no wonder Poison’s Open Up… achieved only the no. 2 spot on the Billboard 200. Striving for that no. 1 spot, the band re-released OUaS…A! with a slightly less eye-catching, much more (parent friendly) subdued cover, but were never able to break into that coveted no. 1 spot; Unfortunate, but understandable given the timeless competition.
Dust-lickin’ flavor-pickin, southern blues at its purest form. This is a formal invite, proper indulgence to follow proper.
So in the meantime, enjoy yourself some upstanding, down-home n’ dirty Southern-fried-rock, with a hint of sexual innuendo.
You never forget your First…
The road to 3000 has been a long and winding one, and the choice of the mighty 3000, being the featured white vinyl version of the Beatles 1968 self titled album, is nothing short of exaccurate (exactly accurate).
I’d been hunting this monster down for more than a few years. The hefty price tag ($100+ complete w/ all four headshots and poster) always deterred me from pulling the trigger. That is, until I found this beaut off ebay last week. Knowing the inevitable 3000 was rapidly approaching, my once torrid, vinyl-hording obsession turned into a frugal-minded halt, as I forwent the “casual” purchasing phase until the mighty 3000 came home. I certainly hope #4000 isn’t for quite some time, as space is really starting to become an issue… one that every collector knows all too well.
Whilst listening to Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, it’s beyond evident to conclude, that although magnificent and majestic in his own right, Tim Hardin’s Tim Hardin 3 is much more socially acceptable than 1980’s FFfRV. I acknowledge that, of course, Mr. Hardin’s live offering is just, if not more fruitful as DK’s studio performance.. and all-the-more vibrant, I’m just exhausted and unable to prolong the unimaginable fight.
Tim Hardin > The Dead Kennedys
The law might get ‘em, then again the law might not get ‘em too! I must admit, that the motivation behind the inclusion of John Schneider and Tom Wopat’s pop-country work into the fold (Bo and Luke Duke respectively), is purely, and without shameful hesitation, based solely upon their prominent involvement with The Dukes of Hazzard.
That being said, it’s about hot damn time for the yearly Dukes of Hazzard marathon. (More of a reminder for me, than anything else… let’s be honest.) Pour yourself a hefty cup of bootlegged moonshine, weld the doors of your mound-jumping coupe, and pray to the heavens that Rosco Purvis Coltrane isn’t hot on your daisy dukes.
#gewgewgew
How a “Best of” album can be fathomed (let alone released) after only two studio albums (out of nine) is far beyond my feeble comprehension, yet, such is the case with The Best of Tim Hardin. Comprised of a single disc cutdown of Tim Hardin 1 and Tim Hardin 2, this 11-track comp, although magnificent beyond all audible understanding, lies through its teeth with its brags and boasts that this is in fact the best that Tim Hardin had to offer. Does it contain his early, and most pop-centric hits? Sure. Does it contain If I Were A Carpenter and Reason to Believe? Of course. Is it a well-rounded sense of this man’s brilliant songwriting ability, well thought out, considering his lengthy body of work? Not a chance in hell. For my money (I own it twice, and bought it three times), it doesn’t get any better than This is Tim Hardin, a worthy and presentable alternative as an adequate “Best of.”
Yeah, this pretty much sums it up. DIY, kiddos!!
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.
Have monkey, will operate organ. Bent Fabric, the whimsical piano master, follows his animal friendly, attention stealing formula with his 1964 effort, Organ Grinder’s Swing. A must for any fan of the solemn cool, Mr. Fabric opens the door to soothing piano rolls, a relaxing atmosphere, and adorable, domestic animals. Still on the lookout for his more prominent 1964 release, The Drunken Penguin, I find comfort in these open window, cool breeze piano eruptions, which are perfect for late night rye consuming moments of sporadic clarity. Thank you, Mr. Fabric.
As a special note, happy beautiful birthday to my amazing, and domestic animal loving mother, without whom, there would be no Groove. Happy birthday, mom!
What you’ve got here is a South Korean insert from the 1987 album, Appetite for destruction, by LA’s Guns N’ Roses released by the Oasis Record Co., an overseas distributor for Geffen Records. This exclusive version features a 9-track song list instead of the usual 12. Omitted are Nightrain, Mr. Brownstone and My Michelle (for those interested). I guess, by way of GNR in South Korea, anything goes.
Just in the Knack of time, 1979’s debut by LA’s (Los Angeles) The Knack dropped their international hit-tastic album just 16 days before I was born (and some mere 32 miles away from the hospital in question). This is the time, which I like to refer to as “my Mother’s physical hell.” Sure, My Sharona is present and accounted for, but what’s disturbingly overlooked is the vast greatness of the remainder of this prolific album.
The Knack, 1979’s Weezer, is, by all means, the sound of “now.” Get the Knack! Got it? Good!
Milestone posts are always a let-me-down. Huge, flamboyant ambitions are conceived; yet, more times than not, reality yields less than satisfactory results. This, of course, takes nothing away from (rather adds to) the genius of Steve Martin (and his souvenir insert from the classic 1978 album, A Wild and Crazy Guy) and / or this gentleman’s comedic herring (or, whatever hell kind of fish this is). 600 posts, for each and every one of the Prudent Groove days (a day in which I’m awake and functional… which sometimes, as of late, happens to extend past the standard 24-hour mark… I make no apologies), which, by defaulted design, keeps me fresh and anxious by the ambitious, yet stressful necessity to “continue.” Rediscovery of one’s varied collection has proved much more pleasing than initially conceived, and I sincerely appreciate (and deeply question… WHY?!) the avid stoppers-by.
The Prudent Groove… not knowing what to say for the past 600 days. Humbly, I thank you.
As far as I know, this Buddy insert from 2000 (Grand Royal Records… surprise, surprise), is a faux sticker. The scissor, dotted line divider is a pretty good indicator of the three separated parts, but I’m pretty sure it’s printed on paper. The keyboard BS 2000 logo is beyond stellar, while the playful percussion jobber raises more questions than answers. Nevertheless, this insert is a classic snapshot of the goofy, anything goes ear candy ushered forth by Grand Royal Records circa: 2000.
Prudent Groove suggestion: Save this image out at high quality, and print on sticker paper. Instant stickers of the BS nature.
We’re all Foreigners to someone, we all wanna know what love is, and we want you to show us. We desire to feel what love is, and we know you can show us. 1984’s Agent Provocateur knew love, and it wasn’t afraid to showcase this obsession by means of a silver and bold-red sticker on its gleaming, cellophane face (celloface? probably not). Yes I own a Foreigner album (two in fact), and yes, I’m okay with this.
Can you imagine James Ensor in a piano keys tie? So too is the flabbergasting monstrosity that is to follow… 1980’s One for the Road was, sadly, and with a heavy blanket of shame, my first Kinks album. The raging rivers of comfort that are Arthur, Village Green, Something Else, and quite literally, every-damn-thing-else I’d discovered by The Kinks, were slow to flow throughout my younger, adolescent, and obviously stupid, darker days. One never forgets their first… as much as they’re willing to try.
These are possible words The Mighty Mancini may have at one time spoken, “I am The Mighty Mancini! I will not pay your ridiculous charge for an additional honey mustard dipping sauce!” The Mighty Mancini was indeed a powerful beast (Three’s Company, NBC Nightly News Theme, Theme from Star Trek, Theme from Battlestar Galactica), whose abundant soundscape knew no intergalactic boundaries.
No man (cini), or woman (cini) can deny the soothing tones of this mighty composer.
Need a quick, jittery-eyed pick-me-up, but don’t have the time for full-length endeavor? Wet your whistle on this 4-track EP from BS 2000 titled, Buddy. I mean, who will refuse a Buddy, am I right? Narcissistic-nay-sayers… that’s who. Anyway, Buddy is a four-track abbreviation of the full-length release titled, Simply Mortified, the band’s and (unfortunately) the label’s last.
Simple mortification is completely up to the willing ear, so take this subtle suggestion with a grain of salt, a shot of brown liquor, and an uncomfortably loud stereo.
No, not the Rod Serling written, 1960 Twilight Zone classic, but instead the 2nd single from LA-based thrashers, Metallica, off their 1988 effort, …And Justice for All.
This slow-building, structure-oscillating, melodically obtrusive Metallica classic features, for the first time on a full-length release, Jason Newsted on bass. Mr. Newsted would record four studio albums before leaving in 2001. He was the 2nd of three bassists for the band, winning the auditioned spot after the untimely death of original Metallica bassist, Cliff Burton. Current bassist, Robert Trujillo’s audition and ultimate acceptance into the band is featured in the (surprisingly good) documentary, Some Kind of Monster. Even for non-Metallica fans, this doc is a worthy watch.
Worth noting, the back sleeve lists the trt at 6:25, while the label lists it at 5:89. (89 seconds over 5 minutes yields 6:29, so I’m stumped on this one.)
The Prudent Groove 