Electric Light Orchestra – “Strange Magic”

This song is a like a dream, it is like everything all at once. It keeps building and building with that powerful endless chorus that sounds like a doo-wop band floating through time. It is ‘70’s mellow gold at its finest, and the melodies drive the flighty feeling home entirely horror show. This is some glossy production, but entirely necessary for a song of this variety, as quite a few ELO numbers are given that fancy studio touch. I like the vague lyrical content that just sort of repeats like a trance. The arrangement of the backing vocals sounds like something out of an epic tune by Queen. There are a few light moments with Jeff Lynne mumbling sweet nothings, but on the whole, this chap knows how to construct an appropriate Rock orchestral number with a generous helping of glitzy glamour, momma.

I mean, we’re not talking about that hideous recent tune by John Mellencamp, as you would actually want to hear “Strange Magic” in a car commercial, or while getting a filling at the dentist. This isn’t our country, honey, its strange magic country! I am no ELO expert, hell, I’m not even a fan, but a good tune is just that, and if you do not believe me then let me refer you to a little number by The Kinks called “Waterloo Sunset.” Do you get the picture now, sweetheart, or does daddy have to beat it out of you? Just back off and enjoy this airy spacey Pop Rock piece of music, that’s all I ask. I don’t want no fighting.

Now just shut up and get swept away in the musical peace of this trance-like mind twister that is ideal for those of us who like a good melody:



Traveling Wilburys are highly questionable characters…

"Be My Baby" by The Ronettes

Boom! Boom boom, cha! Boom! Boom boom, cha! Tied with "Slow Nerve Action" as my favorite drum intro ever...

Black screen. A single voice: "You don't make up for your sins in church. You do it in the streets. You do it at home. The rest is bullshit and you know it." The scene shows a young man getting out of bed, walking to the mirror. The dull roar of a bustling city, alive and kicking with the daily droan of modern transportation. Goes back to bed.

Harvey Keitel lying in bed. Boom! Boom boom cha! Boom! Boom boom cha!

Assuming you're not an uncultured cretin of the intelligence of a comatose caveman, you recognized the above anecdote as the opening scene of Mean Streets. Scorsese's first true masterpiece. But that's neither here nor there.

The point is, "Be My Baby" is among the finest two minutes forty-one seconds of pop history. It's raw, tuneful, orchestral, short but sweet! Yay Ronettes!

But Phil Spector is the real genius responsible. See, there's a belief going around that perhaps it's okay for Phil Spector to murder women in his spare time, just because he produced and wrote "Be My Baby". Perhaps the positives outweight the negatives in this case? Perhaps his defense team should cease sitting around with thumbs up their respective asses and instead merely play "Be My Baby" to the jury. He'll be acquitted, for sure. Or not.

But still. Take a lesson in background harmonies:

BE MY, BE MY BABY!
(Be my little baby!)
MY ONE AND ONLY BABY!
(Say you'll be my da-arling!)
BE MY BE MY BABY!
(Be my baby nooowww!)

Stereo? Who needs it. Echo? Phil needs it! The reverb on the drums is vital!

See, in a strange twist of fate, I was introduced to Spector's "Back To Mono: 1958-1969" compilation last week and, up until "In Rainbows" was unleashed, it ate up much of my musical listening diet. I don't know why, but disc one was most enjoyable for me. Something about those early doo-wop tunes are totally irresistable to me: "Pretty Little Angel Eyes", "Puddin' 'N Tain", "Why Do Lovers Break Each Others Hearts" are highlights, for example? Who cares if they all follow the same chord progression? Puddin' `n tain, puddin` `n tain, ask me again and I'll tell you the same. Disc three, in comparison, seemed a bit over the top with the wall-of-sound technique, didn't have the same charm.

But "Be My Baby" is still the lone masterpiece. It's a perfect melody. I love the chaotic drum fills during the ending refrain.


(Watch Mean Streets if you haven't already. Kill two stones with one bird! See full frontal nudity with scandalous 70's pubes!)


(Acquit Phil!)

Boom! Boom boom, cha!

Barnes & Barnes ~ “Fish Heads”

Thinking about Comedy as Rock recently, thinking about you and me and all that is coming in between us, girl. I understand that my cultural identity resembles a Chevy, and I shat you super tasty and real. Any who, Barnes & Barnes did not change my life, but then again, neither did Punk Rock, but to each his or her respective own on the bright gray telephone mocking rasta fuzz for the long haul. The music video is quite probably as well known as the song, no? One of the blokes from Barnes & Barnes used to be a big deal on TV programs in the ‘60’s man, but his name escapes me…Bill something? He produced material by Wild Man Fischer, who formerly was produced by Mr. Zappa. He also produced Crispin Glover’s one released record as of this moment.

This is a great song on the whole, I love the feeling. Weird for the sake of weird, perhaps, but it is quite catchy and musical with fun little melodies. Comedy, novelty, I am so confused I might as well turn into a sassy little cheetah baby sipping your staircase under a starry Neanderthal gaze, because it is all about hunting and gathering in my neck of the spiritual atmosphere. The actor Bill Paxton actually directed (or acted in, whatever) the music video, so this is even before his bully brother routine in “Weird Science,” and he also appeared in a Tales from The Crypt episode with the great Brad Dourif, not a bad track record. However, his involvement with Barnes & Barnes is unknown to me, so you might want to ask Dr. Demento. The other bloke in Barnes & Barnes is a stranger to me but give him a call if you want to base your life upon his teachings…

Don’t fight the feeling:



Art and Artie Barnes, to be precise.

The Hurdy Gurdy Man by the Butthole Surfers

A song that is better than the original, a song that permanently put my cute little man-pussy on the pill now and forever, like a regular horse whisperer abortion, daddy has come to play. Paul Leary’s guitar leads on this bit of brain cheddar are absolutely delicious, and there is some real love going on. I can’t tell if percussionist King Coffey programmed the living fart out of a drum machine beat or if the beat of life itself programmed the very essence of his noodle. With this song, one realizes the extent of Mozart’s influence, and you simply do not stop.

Gibby Haynes has got his electronic voice box machine working overtime, and this is how it should be. Let your hair down and join the unconformity circus before your buttocks become clinched so tight that you will be farting out of your mouth forever more, you filthy little sass box, baby. Daddy was born to boogie and the Gibbytronix is quite impressive, as just briefly discussed a short moment ago. I am swirling in this song; it is instant ecstasy and ultra awesome. Any vaguely weird or creative-based Rock band that came to fruition after the eighties, no doubt owes a debt to these fabulous Surfers, everybody from Ween to the Condi Rice Experience (Featuring my rock hard clit-hood on drums, you douche rag).

Very odd to understand that Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band were not an influence on these bizarre group of college educated intellectuals, well accept, for Mr. Coffey. It was almost like the next generation of the Magic Band when the Surfers saw the light of day in the early eighties. Now, I’m perhaps not talking Boredoms weird, but pretty damn weird regardless. Some say that Gibby and his pals fell to bits slowly but surely beginning around this time frame, but I say that this is by no means entirely true. We all know some interesting musical ideas found their way on “Independent Worm Saloon” and various others, but it is understandable that those fans of their fabled eighties heyday of the fairly user-friendly freak show heroics were largely let down. Anyhow, I love this song in general, but especially with that tasty Butthole Surfers twist.

Gazing with tranquility, new babysitters on the rise…

Canon in D by Johann Pachelbel

You know, when I think about Johann Pachelbel’s Canon in D I tend to get slightly teary eyed, but yet, a smile grazes my mug and makes my bright day almost intolerably bright, to where I can’t even fight the feeling any more (as I have forgotten what I have started fighting for). Do not get me incorrect, as Bach’s Prelude in C Major is like so totally to die for, but it is Pachelbel’s Canon in D that really makes the hair grow on my scrotum, and it is a kind of hair that is easy to pull and tug, but yet it is not tender, no my friends, it is simply true.

So, when you listen to this brilliant piece of the Baroque era Classical realm, I want you to say a little prayer for me and wash your bed sheets real good this time. It is enchanting music, and no doubt was an influence on the High Priest of Baroque, Johann Sebastian Bach himself, as Bach came a little later after Pachelbel, as the case might be. This is a sort of sound that simply delights the ears as it creates internal movement, and internal conversation of all of the known and unknown senses, in short, it is something wondrous.

Back to Bach, sure, some may argue that Pachelbel was not an influence, but I tend to entirely disagree. And what exactly is a canon you ask? Well, it was quite commonplace during the Baroque era, so allow my pretty little tush to explain a few musical factoids unto your own rotten bottom: Basically, we are looking at counterpoint with a primary melody, and two or more backing melodies that essentially dovetail that main melodic bit and compliment it quite nicely.

You’ve probably heard this at a wedding, you goofy little whale penis, you:



Hello, it was Johann Pachelbel’s only canon!

"Atlas" by Battles

An early candidate for song of the year, and it comes from this warped New York outfit, the first single off their indie-acclaimed full-length debut, "Mirrored". The term of choice seems to be math-rock, but I hear a rolicking kraut-rock influence in the booming tom-tom rhythms and burping guitar drone, soon enhanced by the utterly infectious robot vocals. "People won't be people when they hear this sound," declares the computer-altered voice (as best as I can make it out; no one can really decipher) and it'll stick in your head for days.

The energy simply catapults from there. The tribal drums tumble forward underneath the squealing guitar mess, only to break down at the three minute point. The second half moans and growns, only to build back into the menacing alien techno assault.

Battles seemed to manage to balance their warm indie receival with a massive hard-on for epic prog grooves and unusual vocal effects. "Atlas" in particular is as well suited for a New Years' party on Saturn as it is for a carnival. It is, however, rather dangerous to blast while driving (see: Most Dangerous Albums to Play While Driving); it sends me into violent spasms and convulsions that some may refer to as "dancing". Personally, I'm just bitter that I missed an oppurtunity to see `em live earlier this month.

"Atlas" in full glory:

Jokerman by Bob Dylan

What can be said about Bob Dylan’s “Jokerman” that has not been said already? As one does ultimately tend to wonder, and I hesitantly admit to as much. I know little about the song origin, could it be from a 1983 record that went by the name of “Infidels?” as “Empire Burlesque” sounds incorrect in my mind; and that is a record from 1985, no? This song has a nice little tropical Disco beat and a dorky 1980’s bass line, and is that the dweeb from Dire Straits that I hear all up on the lead guitar bits?

“Keeping one step ahead from the bisexual pirate within…”

Not exactly the correct lyric there, but similar. The fun thing about Dylan is that he does not sing in clear English, and the listener is left to make up his or her own lyrics. This is a lyrically brilliant cut that makes Christianity seem totally awesome, and perhaps it is? I will leave that for you to decide, but I do believe that this record was the very tail-end of Bob’s fascination with the imagery and the deep spirituality of the Christian faith. It wasn’t easy to write a lyrically substantial inspired Pop Ballad in the 80’s, but we must give Dylan mad kudos for making it come to fruition, magically somehow.

It is a fantastically groovy little number that creates lovely images in my noodle…It’s like being a Christian Scientist or something, man! Some deeply meditative shit indeed, and the harmonica touches kick poodle. I interpret this song as an endless array of adventure sagas as appropriated with a bizarre religious fervor that is very much unique to Dylan of the time frame, it was simply where he was at...and it was a fairly interesting place in some respects. Sure, he’s been better elsewhere, but “Jokerman” happens to be one of his better individual cuts, in my opinion.



Kind regards,

Mozart Breath