so yeah, been on a listening tirade involving the Galaxie 500 catalog. i always loved them in that “wow, they sound like the Velvets” sort of way. i really discounted how much more they were…i’ve had this one on repeat a few times this morning…
You said, it’s time to get your clothes on
You said, it’s time to leave the planet
You said, don’t even bring your wallet
You said, it’s time to leave the planet
You said that I could bring my guitar
You said, it’s time to leave the planet
You said that I could bring my guitar
You said, it’s time to leave the planet
When I go downtown
I always wear a corduroy suit
cause it’s made of a hundred gutters
that the rain can run right through
but a lonely man can’t make a move
if he can’t even bring himself to choose
between a pair of black and a pair of brown shoes.
black and brown blues – Silver Jews
Lou Reed’s passing got me thinking about the songs that shape us all in one way or another. at my age, there’s thoughts of 45 rpm records, greatest hits albums, crappy K-Tel compilations, am radio jams and that occasional hum and crackle of “oldies” being played on Friday nights. which brings me to The Shangri-las. the all-girl teenage group from new york that had a #1 hit with Leader of the Pack in the mid-60s. every boy my age remembers the goosing of the motorcycle throttle in that song. but there other “big” single was “Remember (walking in the sand).” something about the hauntingly melodramatic, almost weepy doo wopping is one of those songs that sticks with you, in the same way a kick to the groin does. in stark contrast to sunny beach songs about sand, surf and fun, this one is about heartbreak, memory and that feeling of an inability to move on. all of that wrapped up with a nice bow, brought to you with teenage voices from a songwriting factory in NYC. doesn’t sound too punk rock does it? nonetheless, this one is a downbeat classic in my eyes and the vocals from lead Shangri-La, Mary Weiss are soul scorching. hindsight is 20/20, Mary is credited to inspiring the Runaways, the Go-Gos, Blondie (Debbie Harry has always tried to ape the vocal style), Hole, L7, the Donnas to more modern acts like The Vivian Girls and the Dum Dum Girls. of course the Shangri-Las have been covered by everyone from the Beach Boys to Aerosmith to the Chipmunks to the Carpenters. here’s to Mary and the Shangri-Las. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy8_38U3xLU
i have to tell you, big festivals are really no way to enjoy bands, music, beer, food, soil, water or casual sex. maybe i am just old but i find myself staring at the damn video screens instead of the stage, i just cannot connect to the bands. spoiled by a youth of booking bands, playing in a band, eating with bands, and generally being bored with bands before being blown away by bands who were literally sharing my sweat, spit and spite the whole festival thing ultimately leaves me a little cold. not that i don’t appreciate the whole overpriced flea market appeal of it all but $10 Sierra Nevada’s and taco truck lines sure ain’t for old punks. give me a draft, a chair and a band i’ve never heard of within throwing distance, in a room of a couple dozen enthusiastic know-it-alls and i’d be more tickled…you know, just how we used to see The Black Keys. i’m guessing, inside, the boys in the band feel the same way.
Patrick Carney @patrickcarney of The Black Keys on a video screen at Forecastle Festival.
Seeing the unseeable
Filling down the void,
We’re not what we used to be
We’re not really boys.
–Unconsciously Screamin’, In a Priest-Driven Ambulance, the Flaming Lips
somehow 25 years has passed and things have changed, and things have samed. there’s always been music that mattered, hidden in the cracks of existence, in the lowest, in the best and the most mundane moments that i have been. if you took all of it, shook it out, there would be bands and musicians who probably meant the most, who were the pieces in the soundtrack in the made-for-TV movie that is my little life. the Lips would be there.
Unconsciously Screamin’.
Turn it on.
Talkin’ ’bout the smiling deathporn immortality blues.
Five stop Mother Superior rain.