Lovin’ Wreck: Blindfold Test #7

Don’t worry Kyoko (Mummy’s only looking for your pawn in the cone).

The most exciting part of these columns, immediately after I listen to all 25 songs (okay usually I’ll make it 26 just in case I mess up and one of my writeups is completely flat and incoherent), is going back and checking the app queue to find out what music I was just taking notes about — that head-swat moment of “ohmigod so that‘s who that was, wowzers!!” This time I could absolutely place only a couple — to be precise, just three, one of which oddly was my favorite. And only one more band ranked among guesses that came to mind even in passing.

You may notice that I have started giving these posts headlines beyond just say “Self-Blindfolded Test #7,” which it took me several editions to realize was both clunky and cryptic. And boring. Also, the mean score might be slipping as I tend to grade more and more on a curve since, remember, these songs all emerged from random-playing a much longer playlist consisting of songs I was at very least curious about. Which gives them a head start that probably at least 99.99% of songs on the planet wouldn’t get. Which is to say that while at the time I listened to these, that mix ran 4401 songs (totaling 27 hours, 27 minutes if I were to listen to the entire playlist from beginning to end), there are far more than 44,010,000 songs (totaling 315,000 hours — I think I computed that right) in the entire world. Isn’t math wonderful?

As for accidental selections below, there are more saxophones than usual. And future AC/DC members fare far better than future ZZ Top members, while former Rainbow members land somewhere between, and future Billy Squier members hadn’t even joined the band yet.

Mick Farren is revolting.

Mick Farren “Half Price Drinks” (single from Vampires Stole My Lunch Money, 1978, later reissued on various collections; “English journalist, writer, editor, musician and singer, most famous as leader of The Deviants and a prominent member of the London counterculture” [discogs]): Cloudy afternoon music — light and airy, dark and moody, clanging and jangling. A highly philosophical and soused lush sits in the corner wondering who he is, then later why he’s here. The guitar’s power-strummed in a post-Velvets way I associate with music from northern Ohio. The lush needs to get back home on the midnight train, which won’t be a problem: “Never saw a drunk that couldn’t make the journey home. Never saw a working girl….” Okay, I guess it’s more early evening than afternoon. Happy hour, ha ha. And before he catches that midnight train to Cleveland or wherever, he’ll drunkenly wonder all sorts of things, but mostly how he’ll make it through the night. 6.5

Helter Skelter “I Need You“ (1977 45 A-side, recorded 1971 and collected on  2017 President UK compilation Hey ! 1970s Rock ‘N’ Glam From The President Jukebox; guitarist/frontman Jesse Hector’s one-single London band, after Crushed Butler and before the Hammersmith Gorillas): Zero-production-value ’60s style garage rock rhythm and guitar, right off Nuggets, but the vocal feels ’70s punk era or later. Singer brays his vowels like a nanny goat, repeatedly. A girl’s got him in a whirrrllllll, people tell him she’s not right for him, ask him what he’s gonna do, but he needs/loves/wants her anyway. Your usual primal troglodyte lust. I’ll go with Australians in the ’80s trying hard to sound ’60s, which at least they’re old enough to halfway remember. 6

Taist of Iron’s drummer was really big on “free hugs.”

Taist of Iron “We Give Life” (from Resurrection, 1984; heavy/power metal band from Tacoma): Opens like early psychedelic rock, Byrds or Yardbirds or “Paint it Black,” then guitar riffs thicken to almost Black Sabbath density, though maybe not mixed loud enough for metal. Unusually lengthy instrumental intro, after which the vocalist seems to aim for Ozzy as well. Could be early ’70s acid rock, like Spooky Tooth maybe…or early ’80s NWBOHM, one of those witch burning bands…or early ’90s stoner rock. And judging from the guitar solo, I doubt it could be from any later than that. Like the previous band, I get the idea they’re harking back to hard rock that’s not too terribly distant. 6.5

Yoko Ono, “Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking for a Hand in the Snow)“ (from Fly, 1971): Pretty clearly Yoko, with that gargling at the beginning over a crack rock’n’roll rhythm…oh wait, definitely “Don’t Worry Kyoko (Mummy’s Only Looking for a Hand in the Snow).” What’s impressing me at the moment isn’t so much the insanely extended vowel gargles as how the music actually swings — which, not to put too fine a point on it, but Yoko’s music, even her hipster-beloved/often-Beatlemaniac-hated early music, quite often didn’t. I’m thinking of all those tuneless ballads, hard to get through not because of noisiness but because they drag like the dickens. But this one’s not like that; here, her vocal improvisations keep up with the beat. I just hope this isn’t the 25-minute version, unless I only dreamed that one. Didn’t Lester Bangs compare it to the Teenage Jesus and the Jerks song about little orphans running through the snow, in a history of noise piece he did for theVoice? Anyway, I definitely much prefer Yoko when her music retains some connection to rock, which I assume was at least partly John’s doing. Who else was grinding out these insistent sort of power grooves at the time? Well, some German bands obviously, Can and Amon Düül. Maybe the Stooges on Fun House? Honestly, I might rank it even higher if I was less familiar with it. 8.5

Boy Meets Girl (from left: girl, boy) answer VH1’s trivia quiz.

Boy Meets Girl, “Waiting for a Star to Fall” (single from Reel Life, 1988; co-ed Seattle synth-pop duo who composed Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know” and “I Want to Dance With Somebody,” sang backup on Deniece Williams’s “Let’s Hear It For the Boy,” and went #5 pop, #1 Adult Contemporary and top 10 in the UK with this song): Sparkly, (I think Euro-) poppy start — early ’80s technopop, with a sax; was this a hit? Or wait, maybe it’s more light AOR, of the Night Ranger and/or Quarterflash stripe and/or era. Cock Robin? More specific question: Was this the actual hit, or does it just sound a lot like a hit by some other artist? Which is to say the melodic riff sounds super familiar, as in Human League familiar, Corey Hart familiar, and this lands between those two poles….but the rest doesn’t (land between or sound familiar). Quality, expertly crafted ’80s radio schlock about my arms are where you belong baby yeah and I’m trying to catch a heart and waiting for stars to fall. Male main voice, and what sounds like a female chorus behind. The sax (which eventually takes a solo) is a direct connection to Quarterflash, too, though I’m thinking this is more likely to be British and maybe from a few years later. Sweet. 6.5

012 “Three Little Birds” (from Lets Get Proffesional, 1984; UK post-punk trio): Another sax, or some other species of brass, though presumably from decades earlier; at first I assumed maybe even big band era but then it curdled into weirdness, the vocal just kind of hanging back there loosely: “Woke you this morning and I see the rising sun, three little birds outside my window, singing this is my message to you, hoo hoo, baby don’t worry about a thing, every little thing’s gonna be alright now, it’s gonna be fine” — Or something like that (my notes are muddled), and by the time he gets specific about “nuclear misss-aisles” and “our wonderful green planet,” it’s somehow turned itself into dub reggae. Just realized I have no idea how the Rita Marley (written by Bob?) (or was it I Threes?) “Three Little Birds” song goes or sounds, but I expect there’s a chance this is some screwed-up cover version. All kinds of other music tossed in too, which seems part of the point — and now the sax is blurting free jazz style. Shares certain propensities with Mark Stewart, British accent included. 7

Victim’s Family “I’m Being Followed Around By The CIA” (from Apocalycious, 2012; Santa Rosa, California, hardcore punk band, also “incorporating elements of…jazz, funk, hard rock, and noise” [Wikipedia]): Big fat grimy clodhopper, some oversized oaf blatting about waddling around the city. He’s squealing like Lux Interior in the Cramps, another self-conscious garage reviver, so maybe this could be classified as “psychobilly” except the riffs aren’t really rockabilly. Vocalist isn’t shy, either way — a real razorback warthog, snorting about the CIA and whatever’s rattling around his brain, almost metal at points. Also shares certain propensities with Death of Samantha. 6.5

Silverhead “Heavy Hammer” (from 16 and Savaged, 1973; “British glam rock band…fronted by the singer/actor Michael Des Barres” (Wikipedia): Big bubba blues boogie butt rock, proto metal, reminds me of Humble Pie or some other lagered-up British rednecks, say the Edgar Broughton Band maybe? “Healthy hammer”? No idea what he’s saying…Or maybe “gotta heavy heart”? His band’s heavy-ish, though not quite in a metal way, and probably too slow to be funky though they have no problem laying down a groove. A bit though like falling off a rickety old wooden porch only to get stuck in a big ugly mudpuddle. And yeah now I swear he’s saying he’s got a heavy hammer, just like last time when I was trying to figure out what heavy metal’s hammer obsession is all about. Must be a sledge, or a really huge ball peen. 6

Being from Hawaii, Seawind don’t even need a yacht.

Seawind “Long Long Time” (from Seawind, 1980; jazz fusion band from Hawaii whose horn section provided “backing instrumentals… for performers such as Earth Wind & Fire, George Benson, Michael Jackson [ Thriller, Off the Wall, and Bad], Quincy Jones” [Wikipedia]): More pop than rock, albeit with real drums. Yacht rockish? Except a woman’s singing, saying some guy’s been on her mind for a long long time. Groove is very Minute by Minute Doobie Brothers or debut-LP Toto or Boz Scaggs, L.A. studio funk by crack sessioneers for hire. The couple in question said goodbye years ago and went their separate ways (having said goodbye and all), but “loving you is always on my mind…leaving you has made me such a fool.” Not what you’d call particularly intriguing songwriting, but efficient, proficient, sufficient. And she’s a decent singer, a real pro, and I like her style of r&b singing — strong and emotionally direct with no need to make a big deal about it. Once again, there’s a smooth jazzy sax solo, from the era that top 40 radio was open to that sort of thing. Doubt this went top 40 — seems more like album filler. But whatever it was, its point was the groove. 6

Dorothy & Hezekiah Jenkins “Miserable Blues” (1926 recording reissued on 1997 Document Austria compilation Too Late, Too Late: Newly Discovered Titles, Alternate Takes & Supplements Volume 8; blues/medicine show duo, though “the exact relationship between the two artists is uncertain” [discogs]): Crazy lazy in the daisies Great Depression music, or even earlier — you can hear the 78 crackling. Something about your grandma and your grandpappy, appropriate of course since it’s obviously also (insert number of “greats” depending on your age) grandma and grandpappy music. Has unfinished quality of a demo, or first take, when later takes were probably better. Called “Those Miserable Blues” presumably. Two barbers do barbershop harmonies, which technically might be be minstrel-show harmonies. 6

Venom P. Stinger “Dear God” (from What’s Yours is Mine, 1990 and on 1986-1991, 2013; ” Australian noise rock band, formed in Melbourne” [discogs]): This one tricks you into thinking it’s gonna kick. Cranked up metal punk (as opposed to punk metal), but more like a giant clog in the drain, a big old blotch. Another loud mess, anchored in place by its own cement shoes. And the Suicidal Tendencies hardcore bark on the “oh my god” parts, especially, don’t help. 4.5

Kevin Coyne “Turpentine” (from Matching Head and Feet, 1975; eccentric Derbyshire, UK, blues-rock singer-songwriter): As the brothel pianist tickles the ivories and the house band that gets paid by the hour just clumps along, a paranoid nutcase warns us of “folks who carry guns, carry knives, smash the faces of their wives,” of “babies on the windowsills, people down below ready to kill.” The quivering terror in his voice reminds me of somebody specific I can’t place — maybe an actor more than a singer, or maybe Tim Curry who was both? But more likely somebody with more grit, and more gravity. From the start, though, I knew this was Kevin Coyne, since there’s nobody else it could be. Like plenty of lesser singer-songwriters, from song to song he mostly just changes the words; the music needs more attention. Still, his songs make up in passion and punch what they lack in structure. And that he emotionally presaged punk is never in doubt. 7

The Clash “This is England” (single from Cut the Crap, 1985, included on numerous anthologies): Chattery little children’s voices at the start, playing in the playground or park, though the singer says he instead hears “a gang fight on a human factory farm.” The sound’s not “hard” enough to for what people traditionally tended to think of as punk rock, but I detect some Joe Strummer in the guy’s voice, and he’s singing about wearing his motorcycle jacket even though he walks everywhere and there’s a dubbish sense of space — maybe you could could call this Sandinista! Jr.? Still, there’s something sing-songy about it; seems to me the Clash would have come up with a more indelible melody or livelier rhythm. “This is England, this (meaning the sound of the song, even its inertia?) is how we feel.” Maybe the idea is to capture the mood a few years into the Age of Thatcher…Oh wait (ding! ding! ding! brain bulbs light up!), this is the Clash, isn’t it?? Off….Cut the Crap I guess? Which, if I ever listened to it, it was so long ago I have no memory of it. Duh! So basically, “This is England” sounds like… Rancid?? Pretty sure people like Greil Marcus consider this the Clash’s one last stroke of genius. To me it’s sounding waterlogged, worn down, burnt out, exhausted, which again might be the whole point. The guitars could easily convince me it’s somebody far less historically substantial, some mid-level new wavers I can’t put my finger on, Dexy’s Midnight Runners or somebody. But it’s got cops’ boots kicking folks in the head, so I’ll buy that it’s fighting back. 7

Pierre Pluton Peter Pandora Perpall, purpling.

Pierre Perpall “J’aime Danser Avec Toi” (single and from Danser, 1978; included on Chromeo’s DJ Kicks mix, 2009; Quebec producer who also recorded dance records under aliases such as Purple Flash, Pluton & Humanoids and Peter Pandora): Wah wah funk leads you to expect a comical nasal voice, but then somebody starts singing, or rather maybe chanting, in French. Given the funk, as likely to be from Quebec as from France per sé…..I bet Chromeo love this one. Or maybe it’s Les Rita Mitsouko (who are French not Quebecois)? The groove stays grooving but also stays in one place, doesn’t try to dig deeper; there’s something simplistic about it, maybe more “about” disco than the real thing. Gets sort of monotonous, but at least it’s easy to clap along to. I dunno, maybe it’d seem like a bigger deal if I knew French. Male voice with a woman’s voice answering him does affirm my Mitsouko theory — as does a fleeting echo of their possible predecessors Gruppo Sportivo’s “Beep Beep Love” in the chorus. 6.5

Moving Sidewalks “Joe Blues” (from Flash, 1968, and on 99th Floor, 1982, and The Complete Collection, 2012; Houston proto-psychedelic garage/blues-rock band whose members Billy Gibbons and Dan Mitchell went on to form ZZ Top): A big lumbering urban — probably Chicago — blues. And though I know I shouldn’t, in general I kind of hate this kind of blues. Maybe I’d appreciate it more if I was a guitar player. The kind of Austinites who genuflect to the Stevie Ray Vaughan statue here would love it, I’m sure. But hell, I didn’t even appreciate B.B. King when I saw him (and ignorantly, even wrote about him) in college, and he’s from Mississippi! “I got these blues, oh yes I got them over you” (whoever’s singing this song, not B.B. King, says) – is it even possible to get more generic? He’ll lose the rest of his mind over her, lawd have mercy. Yeah that’s right. He has a big voice, sure. And surprise, he just told somebody “play the blues baby.” Could be early Steve Miller, but that’s who I guessed last time I thought a white guy was trying to sing Black and it turned out to be T-Connection so damned if I’m gonna make that mistake again. A big fat sluggish bore….I mean, I suppose I’m supposed to appreciate the guitarist’s “tone” or something? Okay, he has an thick tone. I’ll give him that. But sorry everybody, it’s not your tone that matters, it’s what you do with it. And oh boy now there’s a harmonica. Doing… harmonica stuff!! Who would have guessed that?? Singer just don’t know what he’s going to do. And he don’t even have the frigging courtesy to be brief about it. If you ever wanted to convince me that punk rock was necessary…3

Cinecyde “I Don’t Want Nothin’ From You” (from Black Vinyl Threat EP, 1978, and I Left My Heart in Detroit City, 1982, then compiled on  You Live A Lie, You’re Gonna Die, 1995; biracial “punk garage new wave band from Detroit” [discogs]): Banging opening, into a chugging, head nodding, grunt swinging, boogie, under a sarcastic, snot-nosed, seemingly British adenoidal snarl — “I don’t want nothin’ from ya now?” Reminds me of…TV Smith in the Adverts maybe? Peter Perrett in Only Ones? Pete Shelley in the Buzzcocks? Only more macho, more muscularly hard rocking, than those bands; maybe it’s what one of them was doing before punk happened, after somebody in their gang heard Raw Power. Doesn’t have the Stooges rhythm section (nobody does), but I very much enjoy how the band’s trying to get there. 7

Unknownmix “Soul” (from Loops, 1985; co-ed Zürich avant-garde/ post-punk band): A light choogle, then a high voice that could be a woman but for some reason I think isn’t starts quivering as other odd vocalists flit around the edges. One guy, impersonating a woman one would think, calls himself Cinderella. Male and female characters, which may or may not coincide with respective genders they identify with in real life, are having a conversation. He says she scares him, but he loves her hair, and later her lips. She occasionally does operatic little hiccups or yelps that momentarily remind me of what Kleenex/Lilliput or Delta 5 used to do in all those songs about “You” or “Ü” or “Ewe” or “Ain’t You.” But again, this is more a skit than a song. He offers her a cigarette, which she declines seeing how she doesn’t smoke. She asks where he’s from, and he tells her the moon, where it’s very cold but sometimes hot. As no doubt you’ve gathered, they seem to be trying extremely hard to be quirky. And actually they frequently sound more Central European rather than British. Other parts could even be Yoko. 6

The Sidewinders “O Miss Mary” (from The Sidewinders, 1972; Boston powerpop-rock band featuring Andy Paley and, after recording their only album, Billy Squier): Nifty drumbeats get the powerpop going, luring Converse All-Stars out onto the school gymnasium dancefloor — “Did you ever feel there’s something in your feet, well get up move around.” From the pre-punk Brownsville Station/Flamin’ Groovies/Earthquake/Sidewinders/Dictators ’70s, getting back Jojo to where rock’n’roll once belonged. High school parking lot rock, or rather what everybody should have been blasting in high school parking lots but only the one or two wise-acres who subscribed to Creem actually were. “Miss Mario, speed queen” — could be glam. But not a high dollar production. You know all those Xeroxed early ’70s proto-punk fanzines like Who Put the Bomp! and Flash and Teenage Wasteland Gazette loved his one. Unlike most songs this time, it feels like an alternate world hit single, by which I guess I just mean it feels like a single, period. Still sounds maybe a tad thin, but stands on its own. 7

Inner City Unit “In the Mood (Nude)“ (from The Maximum Effect, 1981; London psychedelic punk band of ex-Hawkwind saxophonist Nik Turner): Another one that opens with kiddies in the playground, and then the horns start playing…”In the Mood,” I think? Some swing classic. There’s a brief announcement, then it speeds up to something more rock’n’roll; everybody’s jitterbugging. Or maybe it’s just big band swing played faster, and the crowd’s cheering. Was there an ’80s hit called “Hooked on Swing”? This actually does seem like that kind of medley, not that I could name most of the songs. And I get the idea one combo’s playing them all; it’s not a DJ mix. An instrumental, though, that keeps returning to Glen Miller’s biggest hit after detours toward…. well, I forget what “String of Pearls” or “Begin the Beguine” sound like. But something like those. Clearly a novelty, probably a space filler, but maybe more proof that the ’50s weren’t such a huge leap from the ’40s after all. Still, ultimately disappointing, after a promising start — they could’ve taken it so many more interesting places they didn’t. 5

The Durutti Column “Conduct” (from The Return of Durutti Column, 1980;  Manchester, UK “dream pop/ ambient/post rock” band [wikipedia]): Mellow, noodley doodley, almost ethereal, start; easy listening played in an empty room, which somehow comes out exotic. Space age bachelor pad music, for the Mad Men martini lounge? I detect a guitar (acoustic, even Spanish?) and an organ maybe. Some of the delicate origami rice paper onionskin beauty I imagine you’d find in Chinese classical chamber music, which even if there is such a thing I know absolutely nothing about. Finally a drum comes in, but by that point I’ve determined it’s probably another instrumental. Relaxing (and there’s nothing wrong with relaxing — everybody needs to relax!), but ultimately merely soundtracky, without a melody that particularly sticks. I can imagine it behind a nature video about, like, flowers. 5.5

Trolls band together.

The Trolls “Every Day & Every Night” 1966 single; Chicago psych/garage-punk band): Fast drum roll, another ’60s-style garage punker (which genre I realize was called neither “garage” nor “punk” at the time), but this one sounds like it’s genuinely from the ’60s. “Let me tell you about my love” (like she’s going to be G-L-O-R-I-A), “let me tell you about this one girl she’s walking up to me.” Then it gets goofy. “Every day and every night I got girls coming up to me…one weighs in at 250 pounds and has a dog…she might live up in the hills…I’d have to get me a bottle of pills” (???) Frat party rock, with wild Gerry Rosalie (as in Sonics) squeals. I like how in the first minute or so it’s generic but super energetic, then once it gets you on the floor doing the frug, the jokes start. She chases him down the alley and corners him and tries to put her hands on him, and he denies consent “and that’s the end of my story.” How you can be sure it’s the real thing and not a revival of the thing is that it’s actually danceable and the singer’s actually good. 7.5

Tony Carey/Yellow Power “Yellow Power” (from Yellow Power, 1982; Northern California-born former keyboardist for the metal/rock band Rainbow who has also recorded under the alias Planet P Project): Electronic loops, but maybe not played on electronic instruments, unless they are super primitive analog if not abacus ones, then into a kind of spy guitar theme broadcasting from a satellite in outer space. By then there’s almost definitely a synthesizer, if so definitely an analog one. Eventually some psychedelic guitar, over hard drum patterns — a fairly short instrumental that leaves you wanting more. 6

Ramona Brooks “I Don’t Want You Back” (1980 single included on various later disco compilations; “soul singer and session vocalist,” “member of Barry Manilow’s Lady Flash” [discogs]): The drums (toms? congas? bongos?) and horns remind me of Bohannon; the breathy vocal backup (eventually taunting “stay, stay away”) of zouk from the French Antilles. A woman’s refusing to return to the jerk who dumped her in the first place, and the bassline’s tying the music in smooth, tough knots. Horns answer her barbs, groove switches up, vocals out of a bird arboretum and “doo-doo-d’doo-d’doo”s make me think of Dr. Buzzard or the Pointer Sisters. Bassline returns, switches music in to higher gear, horns push it higher and higher, and she’s not fooling, he made his bed and he’s gotta lie in it. Impatient arrangement keeps climbing and returning to themes, but doesn’t settle on any of them too long. If it wasn’t a smash in discos, I can’t imagine why. 8

Siren “And I Wonder” (from Siren, 1969; Kevin Coyne-fronted UK rock band also featuring ex-Bonzo Dog Doo Dah bassist Dave Clague): Going to California with an ache in your heart ’cause a girl’s out there with flowers in her hair Brit-folk strumming, as a high-pitched poor man and “lovin’ wreck” says she left him for a rich man with a fancy yacht. A lightweight twee-and-whimsey version of Led Zeppelin at their prettiest — still very pretty, especially the guitar, just hard to take seriously; given the emotional distance, it’s hard to know if we’re even supposed to. Could be the same people who did that skit a few numbers ago. Dies off soon enough, having done its job I guess. 6

Marcus Hook Roll Band “People and the Power” (from Tales of Old Grand Daddy, 1973; Australian hard/blues-rock band featuring future AC/DCites Angus and Malcolm Young, plus ex-Easybeats/future Flash and the Panners Harry Vanda and George Young): Supremely spare opening snare and cymbal (I think) notes flash me on something by I believe Babe Ruth, probably from “The Mexican.” Then the bassist starts a riff exactly like Roxy Music’s “Love is the Drug.” A rough-edged vocal contrasts with the spacey psychedelic backing, relating for us an evolutionary tale from “back in the beginning when the ape became a man… back around the time that no one saw the Holy Land.” The drum sticks, or maybe drum brushes, are amplified by negative space, and the shaggy-dog yarn turns to how “people don’t have the power to change things anymore” — maybe that’s its title? Taxes and armies are born, “churches and big businesses now rule the people’s fate” — a verbose political jeremiad not too distantly related to Grand Funk Railroad circa E Pluribus Funk or REO Speedwagon circa “Golden Country” or even AC/DC circa “Let There be Rock,” in the sense of it being a kind of biblical origin story. Government’s no real solution, because even when parliament replaces king, your country’s not truly free if elections only mean picking one of Three Stooges, and if only millionaires can be politicians, and if poor men shed blood in wars that the rich men start. Yeah I know, it’s all old if not fake news to us, but here it’s a revelation. When yet another sax player steps in, the volume knob gets twisted. But the protest never quite gels into a raveup because the guitar neither really takes off nor takes over, which strikes me as a lost opportunity. Still, what a gallant effort. 7.5

Now you know where Angus Young’s schoolboy outfit came from.