Going Solo – Pete Shelly of the Buzzcocks vs. Mary Weiss of the Shangri-Las

Posted on March 26, 2012 | Leave a comment

IN: Pete Shelley – Heaven & The Sea

Once upon a time, there was a punk band called the Buzzcocks. Everybody loved them and wanted them to go on forever. Well… everybody except singer, guitarist and songwriter, Pete Shelley. As the band was getting ready to start work on their fourth album, they broke up. Disputes with each other and their record label certainly didn’t help matters.

Shelley took a bunch of the songs that he had been working on for the next Buzzcocks album and instead produced the solo Homosapien. It was basically Buzzcocks songs played by a synthpop band. Except good. Actually amazingly.

I was never really into the Buzzcocks. Somehow they just escaped me. Sure, I heard “Ever Fallen In Love” and “What Do I Get?” but that was it. I have no idea that Pete Shelley was the guy from the Buzzcocks. But one day while perusing the new arrivals at Jive Time Records in Seattle, I saw the cover for Homosapien. I’ll be honest, I definitely judge records by their cover. This one made me buy it right away (do you have any idea how long it took me to buy Black Sabbath’s Sabotage? – Put some pants on, Bill Ward!).

Heaven & the Sea is Shelley’s third (and last) post-Buzzcocks album. While his first two are poppy, with only a tinge of darkness, this one is dark, with a tinge of pop. Most folks like this one least. I can definitely see why.

This is a record that gets better as you listen to it. I don’t just mean that you like it more after listening to it a few times, I mean that the record gets better as it goes along. The first couple of songs are basically generic 80s songs that show only glimpses of the greatness that was Homosapien. While that album cuts the electric guitar completely, adding it to “Waiting for Love” just makes it seem like some crappy song from Miami Vice. Even Shelley’s voice can’t save it. “On Your Own” is basically the same.

Things change a bit with the folk-”inspired” “They’re Coming For You” – which sounds oddly like “Happiness Pie” from Kids in the Hall. But still, it’s good. Definitely better than the first two.

“I Surrender” is sort of like a Dokken song if Dokken used synth claps and turned their guitars way down. That sounds horrible, but Shelley pulls it off. Why? No idea. The rest of the side just keeps getting better. But flip the record, and side two is where you grow to really appreciate the album.

There’s the feel-good pop of “Never Again,” the David Bowie meets power pop of “My Dreams,” and another almost-metal song (“Blue Eyes” – which is nearly forgettable, as is the next song).

The last song, “No Moon…” is really what this whole album should have been based around. If every song on it were inspired by the drum-heavy and minimal “No Moon…” we’d have one of the best albums of the mid 80s. Though sparse, it still manages to toss around melodies and even an acoustic guitar. I’m tempted to say that it’s got a Peter Gabriel (especially “Rhythm of the Heat”) meets Adam Ant feel to it, but not quite. Still, with that in mind, at least listen to “No Moon…”

Okay, so Heaven & the Sea is an incredibly flawed album. It’s not great. But it’s not nearly as bad as most say it is. It’s really good background music with a bit more going on if you care to listen. Of course, you really should have Homosapien. Listen to it and love it. It’s amazing. This is not even close to essential. Even if you have a German pressing on white vinyl (I love white vinyl).


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Mary Weiss – Dangerous Game

Once upon a time, there was a kick ass girl band called The Shangri-Las. They were one of the most popular and loved groups of the mid 60s. Made up of two sets of sisters from the Queens, they scored huge hits like “Leader of the Pack” and “Remember (Walking in the Sand).” They ruled their scene for only a few years, before quickly fading into late 60s obscurity.

They reunited once in the late 70s, but aside from that, there was nothing. The members got married, picked up normal jobs and probably heard their songs on the radio more often than they wanted to.

Come 2007, however, the leader of the Shangri-Las, Mary Weiss, cut an album with Norton Records. Everyone was excited about it and when it was released, people really really dug it. Hearing the buzz, I picked it up and gave it a few listens.

Weiss is backed by the garage band The Reigning Sound and that’s what it sounds like. For awhile, especially after moving to Seattle, I was really into 60s garage bands. I’ve since moved on, only dabbling in it here and there. As for this one, I tried to like it. Honestly, it’s not bad. I think I’ve just moved in another direction, musically.

So if you’d like this one, let me know and it’s yours.

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Love Buzz Under Pressure – Nirvana’s Bleach vs. Queen’s Hot Space

Posted on March 21, 2012 | Leave a comment

IN: Nirvana – Bleach (Delux)

I can’t really pretend that I was cool enough to have heard of Nirvana before “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was released. And to be honest, I didn’t really like it at first. My friend Todd worked at a college radio station and brought home the promo (possibly the one on yellow vinyl) for the rest of us to hear. It was alright, but not really life changing.

But then everyone started to listen to it and it grew on me. Someone made a copy of Nevermind for me and it got a lot of play to and from school as I shuttled several friends in my 1981 Chevy Citation (a black X-11 with a tiny spoiler). Somewhere along the line, I heard that they had an album before Nevermind called Bleach. I think I had to order it from Listening Booth. and to make sure that I could listen to it on the road, I made sure it was the cassette version.

In 1991, I was still into vinyl, even though CDs and tapes had largely replaced records. But I was 16 and you couldn’t play CDs or records in the Citation.

While Nevermind was pretty good, Bleach was amazing. I was into things like the Sex Pistols, Anthrax, early Revelation Records bands, and the Ramones. Bleach was the kind of music you’d make if you listened to all of that stuff. It was a perfect fit for me.

But over the years, I lost the tape and never replaced it. I never got it on CD and never had it on vinyl. I never even downloaded it from Napster – which is sort of odd now that I think about it. Since moving to Seattle, I found it difficult to avoid Nirvana. They’re basically the house band. I picked up the repressing of Hormoaning and even got the Nevermind singles boxed set. For whatever reason, however, I never bothered to pick up the double LP repressing of Bleach. I’d see it at Silver Platters or Sonic Boom, but didn’t really care. No idea why. I’m not always the biggest fan of live recordings and I was just waiting for it to be released without the extra record containing an early 1990 live show in Portland.

Finally, Sub Pop Records released the normal, one record version and when I saw it next to the Delux Edition, I decided that I needed the one that would, no doubt, be soon out of print. Plus, it’s on white vinyl. I love white vinyl.

As I write this, I’ve not yet listened to either the studio or the live record. So what I’m going to do is stop writing, listen to the live record and then listen to the studio album. This is how I discovered a lot of bands. I’d go to their show, listen to their set and buy their album or 7″, take it home and compare. Since I can barely even remember Bleach (off the top of my head), why not do this to rediscover Nirvana’s first album?

Here I go…

Well, I’m back. The first thing that strikes me about this is how not sloppy and how well produced it is. Also, the drummer (Chad Channing, not Dave Grohl) uses a double bass like he’s in Metallica or something. It’s weirdly disconcerting. I’ve read some reviews by people who saw Nirvana on this tour and they say that this record captures how they sounded. Maybe that’s true, but I have a hard time believing that Nirvana sounded this polished in 1990. But then, maybe my impression of early Nirvana is a bit more skewed than it should be.

But the studio album – now this really is something special. Oddly, I didn’t have any 11th grade flashbacks (like I had when listening to The Cure’s Disintegration. It really was like hearing it for the first time. Yes, I remember a few of the songs, specifically “Paper Cuts” and “Love Buzz.” The studio album gives me a bit more appreciation for the live album, though the live songs are just as polished as most of the studio cuts. The entire first side of Bleach was played live on the bonus record, but the second side, except “Scoff,” was left off.

Side two doesn’t seem to have the power that the first side had. I can definitely remember at least bits of side one’s songs from growing up, but side two’s just sort of blend together. It’s not that they sound all the same like an AC/DC or Ramones album, it’s just that they’re sludgier and lack the hooks of the previous side.

My copy of Bleach isn’t completely white. There’s a small black smudge that shows through. Juniper, our cat, is fascinated with it. Normally, she’ll just peacefully lay on my turntable’s dust cover. But for this one, she chases the smudge, spinning around like she’s chasing her tail. Clearly, she approves of the Bleach reissue as well.


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Queen – Hot Space

When I get a new record, I try my best to find a title from my collection that matches. I traded To Hell with the Devil with Satan is Real, for example. When I got Martial Canterel’s dark, analog synth-driven You Today, I got rid of the cookie cutter synth pop that was Go West’s Dancing on the Couch. For Nirvana’s Bleach, however, I don’t really have a match that I can find.

There’s no direct link between early 80s Queen and Nirvana. And this album is … well, it’s not Night at the Opera or Jazz. It’s sort of new wave. I mean, it’s like they killed Roger Taylor (their drummer) and replaced him with a computer. Normally, I’d be okay with that, but this is Queen. Aside from Freddie Mercury’s vocals, the band’s signature sound was Brian May’s guitar. That is nearly nonexistent on Hot Space. What we’re left with is what sounds like a band struggling (and failing) to remain current and hip to those crazy kids in the dance halls.

Sparks also fell into this problem, but they were actually able to pull it off pretty well.

The album’s redeeming quality is, of course, the duet with David Bowie, “Under Pressure,” that even Vanilla Ice couldn’t ruin. It’s one of the greatest collaborations ever recorded (if not the best). But it’s still not reason enough to keep the record.

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Two Real Roxannes, Kool Moe Dee and One Amazing Abomination of a Record

Posted on March 19, 2012 | Leave a comment

IN: The Real Roxanne – Romeo 12″ Single
IN: The Real Roxanne – Let’s Go Go 12″ Single

The Roxanne Wars began in 1984 when hip hop act UTFO released “Roxanne, Roxanne,” a five minute diatribe against a “stuck up” girl they call Roxanne. Apparently she wouldn’t give guys like them no rap. The song described various ways in which Roxanne disrespected them.

UTFO was an interesting band, having at least two Phd recipients in their ranks: Dr. Ice and the Educated Rapper, MD. Also, Kangol, who was named after a hat just to even things out a bit. Anyway, as a kid, I loved these guys almost as much as I dug Whodini. “Roxanne, Roxanne” started the Roxanne Wars, but soon it was answered by Roxanne Shante, a 14 year old, foul mouthed little lass who produced a song called “Roxanne’s Revenge.” It used the instrumental track of “Roxanne Roxanne” and sold 250,000 copies before UTFO sued and it had to be rerecorded with different music and toned down lyrics.

Seeing that there was an opportunity here, UTFO and Full Force (their backing band) produced their own answer song. This was done under the moniker The Real Roxanne w/ UTFO. In this first official answer record, called “The Real Roxanne,” The Real Roxanne was a gal named Elease Jack. Shortly after, the roll was taken from Jack and given to a different girl named Adelaida Martinez, who would go on to record a couple of albums, as The Real Roxanne. Elease Jack faced into obscurity, a casualty of the Roxanne Wars.

Many, many artists joined in on the beef, dragging it out to the late 80s and nearly ruining the original three songs in the process. Thankfully, UTFO, Roxanne Shante and The Real Roxanne 2.0 survived and put out some great cuts despite the dead horse beating that “Roxanne, Roxanne” became.

The better of the two original Roxanne responses was the second, by The Real Roxanne 1.0. After replacing Elease Jack with Adelaida Martinez, The Real Roxanne was reborn and though it was a sneaky thing to do, her music (with Hitman Howie Tee) is every bit as good as the first Real Roxanne’s.

I nearly passed on these two records, figuring that since I hadn’t heard the songs before, I wouldn’t really feel a connection. But Jive Time Records was selling them for $2.00 a pop and both were in VG+ condition, I just couldn’t pass them up. To make matters even more fun, somewhere in my childhood I somehow heard both “Romeo” and “Let’s Go Go”

I have no idea how, but when I played both, I remembered all of the lyrics. I had absolutely no recollection of ever hearing either song before, but when she started “Romeo” with “I’m the lady devastator, plain and simple / Some of my friends know me as dimples,” I was in. Hell, I even knew all the lyrics to “Let’s Go Go”‘s b-side, “Howie’s Teed Off.” How? I wasn’t, however, aware that there was a “Romeo (Part II)” in which we find out if Roxanne and Romeo ever got together.

This only happens with rap music. I guess I listened to a lot of it growing and for whatever reason, all the lyrics got stuck in my brain. This is probably why I can’t remember math. Regardless, I’m happy to have received two Real Roxanne 12″s into my collection.


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Kool Moe Dee – No Respect 12″ Single
OUT: Bobby E and the Midi City Crew – Walk on the Wild Side 12″ Single

For the past couple of Outs, I’ve been fairly kind to the records leaving my collection. This is not the case today.

Kool Moe Dee’s album How Ya Like Me Now is, to be sure, a classic. But that doesn’t mean everything on it is amazing. The title cut is great. Even “Wild Wild West,” later sort of covered by Will Smith, is good enough. But the third single, “No Respect,” is alright, but mostly … I don’t know. The video, however, is amazing.

Ah hell, I guess I like this well enough. I just don’t see me ever listening to this again or really missing it if I don’t have it on 12″. Eventually, I’ll get the whole album and have it again. Maybe in the context of a full LP it’ll make more sense.

But let’s move onto Bobby E and the Midi City Crew’s cover of Lou Reed’s “Walk on the Wildside.” Why did I buy this? I blame the dollar bin mixed with a bit of curiosity. Sometimes you just have to take a chance. But wow… wow is this bad. I thought maybe it might sample the original song in interesting ways, or maybe, I don’t know… I have no words to describe this abomination.

I wish there was a way for you to hear. In the words of H.P. Lovecraft: “It seemed to be a sort of monster, or symbol representing a monster, of a form which only a diseased fancy could conceive.” Yes, this is so bad that I’m quoting Lovecraft. And that still doesn’t cover it.

It’s like a late 80s synthpop band, like Go West, for example, decided to cover “Walk on the Wild Side,” but wanted to make it a rap song. Yes, it’s from 1987, but that can’t be used as an excuse. This anathema should not exist in any decade.

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Trading Road Songs for Road Songs – John K. Samson vs. Tracy Chapman

Posted on March 16, 2012 | 10 Comments

IN: John K. Samson – Provincial

This was sent to me by a friend of mine who thought that I’d like it. He was right. I’m not sure what made him think that it would be up my alley, but he nailed it. It’s an odd thing, I never really cared for Propaghandi and didn’t even bother with The Weakerthans, but maybe I was missing something.

John K. Samson played bass in the former and guitar in the latter. He appears to have a few solo albums/EPs out there, too. I’ve never heard any of them, but I suppose I should.

Anyway, if Provincial is anything like his other stuff, Samson sounds like a Canadian Eef Barzelay (from Clem Snide). Lyrically, he might not be as cerebral, may not have fun little word plays or incredibly interesting ways of phrasing ordinary things, but it’s not just the vocals that sound like Clem Snide.

But the lyrics are what I notice here. Mostly, they’re about travel and remembering, two things that I’ve based much of my life around. Samson’s travel, however, is in Canada. And though I know that travel is travel, there is a very different feel to travel outside of the States.

“Highway 1 East,” the first song, throws me. Highway 1 goes north and south. You can’t “lift up a line from Highway One to tie Ontario.” But it’s not always bad to be reminded that America isn’t the center of everyone’s universe. “The Heart of the Continent,” with its north wind and “billboard by the highway that says ‘Welcome to Bienvenue à,’” could be Finland or Russia instead of Canada.

Songs like “Cruise Night” and “Longitudinal Centre” mention the Dairy Queen and El Caminos, the Atlantic and Pacific. This could be, but just isn’t, America.

I guess I’ve not really spent enough time in Canada. The last time I was near it, we drove on a road that trailed along the border. Traveling west, there was a ditch on our right, and immediately after that was another road, paralleling our own. The other road was in Canada. That ditch was all that separated me from a foreign landscape that was only foreign because some asshole in the 1800s drew a line on the map and said “anything below this is ours, anything above this is yours – take it or leave it.” Since then, Canada and America have grown up together, but have also grown apart – grown in their own ways.

I grew up in America and led a childhood that couldn’t have been too much different from someone who grew up in Canada (except they got to see Degrassi before I did). But now, living a little over an hour away from a boarder, the existence of which makes no geological sense, Canada seems light years away and John K. Samson could be on that weird compilation of Cambodian Rock & Roll Sarah got for me last Christmas. They could be Bjork or Menudo.

It’s strange that I can listen and relate to so much English new wave and minimal synth music, yet I can’t wrap my head around Canadian songs about road trips. What is wrong with me?

Besides, they’re not all road songs. One is about hockey. Another is about Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Actually, that one, “When I Write My Master’s Thesis,” seems to be a cross between Bob Dyland’s “When I Write My Masterpiece” and Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out.”

When Dylan sings “Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble,” Samson sings, “Oh, the streets of Grand Theft Auto San Andreas fill with smoke.” When Alice sings “No more pencils, no more books,” Samson sings, “No more marking first year papers. No more citing sources.” Clunky? Sure. But clever.

I mentioned Clem Snide before and maybe half the songs have that feel. The other half venture into Miracle Legion/Polaris territory (but oddly don’t sound like REM). Sometimes, and I’m probably losing everyone here, but sometimes he sounds like David Rovics. None of these are bad things.

Provincial ends with two songs that define how a semi-concept album should end. “Too far to walk to anywhere from here,” the repeated chorus of “Highway 1 West” seems to define how I felt growing up in central Pennsylvania. It was almost too far to drive anywhere from there. “Taps Reversed,” with its simple piano-based theme, describes what sounds to me like living in a ratty old house. “The old house drinks everything we hide, and hums sad songs that keep us up all night.” It’s a lonely song for a lonely life in a lonely small town. Still, there’s almost a hint of nostalgia for “the old house that keeps all of our receipts in envelopes secured with rubber bands.”

I had never heard of John K. Samson, but I’m glad to have inadvertently found this one.


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Tracy Chapman – Tracy Chapman

Here’s a fun fact. When I was in 8th grade, I helped out at a week-long church camp. The woman who ran the cabin that I was assigned to played two tapes the entire time. The first was Bobby McFerrin’s Simple Pleasures and this Tracy Chapman album.

I realize it’s a good one. And I realize that “Fast Car” is one of the finest road songs ever written. I know that when this came out, nobody was doing anything like it (anymore). She unwittingly changed music, ushering out the 80s and bringing in the folk music of the 90s.

Tracy Chapman deserves all the credit that she is given and much, much more. I just don’t listen to this anymore. It is ensconced in my memory and will always be part of the soundtrack to my summer of 1988. And though it’s no longer for me, Sarah likes it quite a lot, so it’s now hers. Here ya go!

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Satan and The Devil – The Louvin Brothers’ Satan is Real vs. Stryper’s To Hell with the Devil

Posted on March 14, 2012 | 3 Comments

IN: The Louvin Brothers – Satan Is Real

For the longest time, finding The Louvin Brothers’ Satan is Real LP on vinyl meant that you plundered the stacks, got lucky, and paid many, many times more than you thought you should. Though they were renowned in the country and folk scenes, mostly people seemed to like the garish and absolutely goofy cover. There are several blogs, like LP Cover Lover, whose focus is strange and bizarre album art. In fact, that’s how I first heard about this.

But there’s much, much more to Satan is Real than a wooden cut-out of the devil.

One thing that really surprised me was that the Louvin Brothers were not primarily a gospel act. Made up of Ira and Charlie Louvin, they mostly played folk songs in the country style, focusing upon the close harmonies that only two brothers could reach. Growing up Baptist in Alabama, they first began singing at church in the 1940s, but by the time they were ready to record, they wanted to make secular music.

Their label, Decca Records, knew how much money they could make on the brothers if they were a gospel duo, but still, Ira and Charlie followed their heart. In 1955, they released their first album Tragic Songs of Life, comprised of songs like “Knoxville Girl” and “Katie Dear,” which were decided not Christian (as they broke the sixth commandment). A few more such albums were churned out until the end of the decade saw their return to the gospel music.

Satan is Real was recorded across three brutal days in August of 1958. The sessions were fast-paced and all business. The album is half originals, half covers. Ira penned the preachy title track from the pulpit, imploring us to admit that if God is real, Satan is just as real. “Working with power, he can tempt you and lead you astray.”

But not all of Ira’s songs are lit with brimstone. “The Christian Life” and “Are You Afraid to Die” are almost hopeful, as is “The Angels Rejoiced Last Night,” even though they all deal so closely with death.

The brothers cover two Hazel Houser songs, “I’m Ready to Go Home” and “The River of Jordon,” the latter of which seems almost as if it were written for them. They also covered The Carter Family’s “The Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea.” That, along with the original “The Drunkard’s Doom” were about the bottle, something Ira was beginning to learn about first hand.

But, of course, there is the cover. At first, I thought it was a cartoon Satan superimposed over a charcoal grill with picture of the brothers pasted over it. But no, this, like Satan, is real. Ira dreamed up the idea. Charlie’s son had a Lionel train set on a 4×8 sheet of plywood, so they cleared the tracks, cut the sheet in half (the long way) and designed a sixteen foot high devil.

They found a rock quarry, lit some felled trees with kerosene and did the photo shoot. Capitol Records sent a photographer from California to capture it, but it started to rain and he wanted to postpone the shoot. The brothers refused – “if we can stand out here in these white suits, surely it’s not gonna hurt your camera.”

When Satan is Real was released, it was well received. Soon, however, their popularity and careers started to tank. Elvis had changed country music and the Louvin Brothers seemed dated. By 1963, Ira had been through three wives and was a bitter, angry drunk. The duo broke up – they could no longer get along.

Two years later, Ira seemed to be getting his life on track. He had a new wife, and tried playing shows on his own. But soon, the bottle caught back up with him and he lost his money and friends. Before he could turn it around again, however, he (along with his wife and four others) was killed by a drunk driver whole alcohol level was nine times the legal limit.

Though he continued to record and play out, Charlie was torn up over his brother’s death until he died in January of 2011. Behind them, they left a huge catalog of music that has been surprisingly overlooked until recently. Thankfully, Light in the Attic Records have rereleased Satan is Real and Tragic Songs of Life (as well as a compilation) on vinyl (and probably CD). You owe it to yourself to hear it.


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Stryper – To Hell With The Devil

First, let me get this out of the way. I really really like Stryper. I have since I was a little kid. It’s not some ironic fascination, it’s real. I like vocals, the music, the image. But wow were they cheesy. Lyrically, this stuff is atrocious.

Rockin’ the world for You, Holy One
Rockin’ the world for You, and your son

Still, To Hell with the Devil is nearly a perfect mid-80s hair metal album. You’ve got the dark and brooding instrumental to set the tone, the heavy title song, slick harmonies on “Calling On You” and “Sing-Along Song,” and even a couple of power ballads (“Honestly” actually made it into the top 40!).

So why am I giving this one up? Well, part of my project to comb through my collection, getting rid of things I’ll never listen to again. As it turns out, I have two copies of this one. Sort of.

To Hell with the Devil was first released with a freakish cover depicting the band members as winged angels casting the Devil (who fittingly looks like Glenn Danzig) back into Hell. For some reason (controversy?), they ditched that cover and went with the boring black cover. The first cover, like the first covers of Guns & Roses’ Appetite for Destruction and Poison’s Open Up and Say Ahh isn’t easy to find. Thanks to Jive Time Records in Seattle, however, I happy secured my copy a few years back.

The band put a sticker on the first cover, calling it a “special limited edition,” and explaining that they “attempted to make a visual representation of the title.” Addressing the controversy, they stated that “whenever illustrations are used to convey concepts or ideas, misinterpretations become possible. With this picture, however, there should only be one message delivered: ‘The devil belongs in hell, not in your heart.’”

One of my favorite things about Stryper was the wacky and insane “Christians” who actually believed the band was satanic. Seriously. Check this out. The author says (and is not joking): “STRYPER is a bunch of Satanic cross-dressing God-haters… and I’m fully convinced, homosexuals as well.” And did you know that the devil’s favorite colors are yellow and black? Sure are!

My favorite is a quote from insane “Christian” author Jeff Godwin (best last name for a Christian author ever!): “Almost everyone assumes that ‘To Hell With the Devil’ means that Satan can go back where he came from. The meaning changes drastically, though, when read with the emphasis on a different word: ‘To Hell WITH The Devil.’ Used this way, the phrase shows that fans are being dragged to Hell along WITH the devil…”

So, if you want something to mean something else… it magically does!

Some folks would keep both covers. I’m just not one of them. Yes, I’m a collector, but I’m not a fetishist about it. I don’t need an original pressing or every color vinyl that a record was released in. I just want the music. If given the choice, I’ll take the rarer pressings, of course. And that’s what I’m doing here. Also, this gives me a reason to talk about Stryper. How could I pass that up?

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When Bertha Butt Does Her Goodie: Jimmy Castor’s Bertha Butt Boogie vs. Swing Out Sister

Posted on March 12, 2012 | 5 Comments

IN: The Jimmy Castor Bunch – Bertha Butt Boogie

Let me admit two things. First, I had never heard Jimmy Castor’s music before I learned that he died. Second, I bought this album based solely upon the cover art. Can you blame me? No. Also, I know literally nothing about soul and/or funk music.

Jimmy Castor was a saxophonist who had a few Soul/Funk hits prior to this 1974 release. “Hey, Leroy, Your Mama’s Callin’ You” (which was sampled by the Beastie Boys on “Time to Get Ill”), “Luther The Anthropoid (Ape Man)” and “Troglodyte (Cave Man)” had both done quite well for him, but with a couple of years of mediocre releases, he must have figured out what people wanted.

And so with this album, specifically the song “Bertha Butt Boogie,” he brought together the characters (and some of the music) from his earlier hits.

Bertha Butt, one of the Butt sisters, was a big woman. She made her appearance in “Troglodyte,” as she filled the cave man’s request to “sock it to me” (“I’ll sock it to ya, daddy!”). In the original song, Bertha made only a short appearance at the end (no pun intended), but here, she gets her own song.

“When Bertha Butt did her goodie,
She started the Bertha Butt Boogie!”

Bertha’s three sisters, Betty Butt, Bella Butt and Bathsheba Butt, were barely mentioned in “Troglodyte.” But in this one, when Bertha is approached by the Troglodyte and Luther, and she needs back up, she yells “I need ya!” and her sisters come running.

Castor’s strength was clearly music, not storytelling. After the Butt sisters back up Bertha, everything seems to resolve itself:

The Troglodyte, Leroy, Luther
And the Butt sisters all knew
That “The Bertha Butt Boogie”
Was now the thing to do.

This isn’t a song you can argue with, really. And while the whole album is anchored by “Bertha,” there’s actually quite a bit of fun here. After the title track, we’re treated to a ballad, at first, seems pretty serious, but kind of has a Frank Zappa feel. Kind of. Actually, it’s more likely that Frank Zappa has a Jimmy Castor feel, but you get what I’m saying.

The first side is rounded out with “Hallucinations,” which, it appears, a lot of people really don’t like. This is easily my second favorite cut, mostly because of the verse:

I got the beat, the groove is growin’
Watch out, my soul is showin’
The Castor Bunch is doing their thing
You’re invited to a happening

Side Two kicks off with “Potential,” a sort of James Brown parody, where the various members of the Castor Bunch spell and define “potential.” Like on the first side, we get another ballad that channeled whatever Zappa channeled during his jazz phase.

Yes, there’s some weird, almost Kenny G.-sounding sax stuff here. At first, it was off putting, but after I reminded myself that it wasn’t, in fact, Kenny G., it was all okay.

Get the album for “The Bertha Butt Boogie,” but stay for the rest. It’s a mixed bag and maybe it’s not all amazing – some of it might just be filler – but overall, it’s a keeper.


☚ ☎ ☔ ⚸ ✇ ♂ ♀ ✶ ✝ ∞ ☭ Ꮊ ☸ ♌ ♼ ⚙ ☛

OUT: Swing Out Sister – It’s Better To Travel

I absolutely love the song “Breakout.” I loved it when it was released in 1987 and I love it today. And because I have the 12″ single, I have absolutely no need for this album. “Breakout” was Swing Out Sister’s only hit in the US, though they did quite well with other singles in the UK. They were a pop band that blended pop with some pop and then some jazz. For me, that worked for exactly one song: “Breakout.” The rest of the album, to my ears, is forgettable at best.

For a second there, I thought I was being too mean, or at least inaccurate. But I just listened to it again and wow, it just doesn’t do anything for me.

Her voice started to irritate me immediately after “Breakout” (the first song), so maybe that’s it. Every song sounds like Sade’s “Smooth Operator” – I don’t know why! And musically, I just find it bland. I bought it a while back, hoping that it would be an album full of “Breakouts,” but it really really isn’t.

Sorry, Swing Out Sister. I know lots of folks love what you do, I’m just not one of them. Except for “Breakout.” Seriously, that’s good stuff.

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