THEATRE REVIEW, Macbeth, The New Phoenix

One of the three withches in New Phoenix Theatre on the Park's production of MACBETH forcefully and accidentally rammed into my leg as she squirmed and gesticulated at the feet of the audience while prophesying the splendor and doom of the would-be-king Macbeth. The witch, played by a male actor hunching like a manic cat, clucking like a bewitched hen, crouching so close to me I could have used her as a footstool, looked up at me and hissed after clobbering my shin with her full body weight. I managed a polite smile. Later when a sword was slammed to the ground after a valiant bit of swashbuckling, it did a sort of bounce on its handle and landed with a crash just inches from another audience member. Thse poor players were eager to convey the murderous rage of power-hungry Macbeth and I suppose we were fortunate enough to leave the theatre fairly uninjured.

The production's minimalist set design - a chair here, a lantern there - the spare costumes in goth black with red drape signifying royalty, and the intimate but small stage space demanded a strong verbal resonance from the actors which they delivered like the hushed secrecy of a candlelight storytelling. The stage was set, indeed emptied for something wicked coming as the players routinely and creatively performed this darkest drama with as much enthusiastic spirit as children playing from a costume trunk in a spooky attic.

The pervertedly devoted Macbeth and Lady Macbeth (Brian Riggs and Kate LoConti), plotting to inherit the royal crown of Scotland through murderous deeds, played off one another brilliantly displaying a hateful dance of rage and lust, confronting and comforting each other like caged injured animals while violently kissing and coiling thier clamped embraced bodies together in what seemed less a display of heated emotion than of erotic asphyxiation. The acrobatic tumbling witches (watch out for that body slam) looked at times to be playing a wildly complex game of Twister and successfully created a goofy sort of mysticism meets yoga. The swordplay was exceptional and offered relief in the form of exciting choreographed movement when interrupting the increasingly intense tragedy.

Occasionally the players lost themselves in the deep anguish of their speeches, and words became whimpers, shrieks and squeals. Macbeth particularly, with his back turned and far into the depths of his tormented psyche, was often indiscernible. Yet his broken physical stance spoke measures.

Seating on all four sides of the stage left a glaring red light directly in my sight path forcing me to cup my hand over my eyes to see the action on stage before it landed in my lap. A lighting design error maybe, but the suspense of the story heightened with the emergence of a player silhouetted against a blazing sunset. Hence, horrible shadow! The nine-member cast accomodated the 30-plus characters in the play with efficient and casual costume alteration: acquiring a limp, throwing on a hat, affixing a pair of glasses, sometimes in mid-scene, creating a bit of a Mad Hatter identity crisis. This too only added to the charm of this hands-on, grassroots, and devoted production.

Directed by Kelli Bocock-Natale, this fine dose of Shakespeare plays at the New Phoenix on the Park in Buffalo, New York on Thursday, Fridays and Saturdays at 8PM through April 10. Thursday night performances are pay-what-you-can.

in reference to: http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/theater-review-buffalo-ny-macbeth-at/page-2/ (view on Google Sidewiki)

TRAFFIC, TOY MATINEE, THE TOYS

I have Traffic's "John Barleycorn Must Die" on CD, and a vinyl record copy of "The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys", possibly the worst rock and roll album title ever. Both offer a blues based meets prog platform and a rich, laid back listening experience. I'm also listening to ToyMatinee's one and only album on CD from 1990, a rather bland bit of rock made interesting by some quirky sonic touches, (the sudden clarinet carnival at the closing of "Turn It Up Salvadore"). Lyricist, singer Kevin Gilbert died in 1996 while indulging in autoerotic asphyxiation, the sexual arousal of suffocation. Dude, thanks for the stylish exit. Also, The Toys 45rpm, "A Lover's Concerto", from 1965 may be the first time classical music made it into the popular hits charts. Based on Bach's "Minuet in G Major", which is now believed to be not written by Bach at all but by Christian Petzold, (oh, who gives a living crap) the record is a beautiful slice of perfect melody by the first in a long line of emerging black girl groups. I've misplaced the damn record in my cluttered office space excuse for an apartment or I'd offer a pic of it. Decca? Needless to say those opening Motown-like brass bars leading into that lovely girl singer, -"how gentle is the rain? -" takes me back to the first times I realized I loved radio. If I feel like coughing up the pocket change, maybe you can hear it here. Or better yet, there, at the widget at the top of this blog.

I'm experimenting with web browsers and I'm about to slam my head into a wall out of frustration.

The Toys

Today is Good Friday, that's a good paid day off. Thank you Jesus. The grandest prank ever played on mankind, not! not! that is NOT awesome! Awesome is what the kids at Fatima said - ( I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Oh frickin' persecute me why don't you!) forgive me, I possess the finest of Christian traits, when I die he's going to walk up to me and say, "Good job, man!",.... my faith has been shaken, sucks sausages in hell- i don't know why i said that. I love you, another champale my brow beaten friend? No, i haven't seen john and yes, it looks like rain. I did a play. Langston Hughe's HARVEST at Subversive Theatre. An actor walked out two weeks before opening and I got a call to fill in. That's what I like. No pressure, no 6 week rehearsal schedule. Here I come to save the day. My mediocrity is improving

And I'm writing for Blogcritics.com. Oh, to be an online published writer. That has been my goal in life.

I was wondering what to do with my 3- day weekend, and I'm tired of diligence. I'm tired of grocery shopping, and frickin' laundry and paying bills, and coffee in the morning and a snack at night, of hellos and goodbyes, of calls and TV. I woke up musing that I'd like to see that new Polanski film, maybe go shopping, Barnes and Noble Christmas gift card may be expiring, and then I realized what I really want to do this weekend is get blitzed and hang around home dusting cobwebs or something. Venture out into the yard and look odd for the neighbors boredom. Party out, the ceiling's the limit! If you find me wandering around Dunkirk, point me to my home.

THE TOM TOM CLUB, TONE CASUALTIES, TOMMY

Tina Weymouth

A girl singer with a very limited vocal range singing minimal exotica pop that you can dance to. And for those who don't want to dance there's a candy dish of drugs nearby. The Tom Tom Club is Talking Heads alumni, and married couple, Tina Weymouth (bass) and Chris Frantz (drums). They formed The Tom Tom Club as a side project to Talking Heads in 1980. CLOSE TO THE BONE (Sire 123-), from 1983 is their second album. Chris Frantz's trippy percussive outbreaks come when they're needed most and Tina Weymouth, well god love her, but she's like your twelve year old niece putting on a show for the family. Their sunny day martini LSD weekend is what the me-want-drugs decade was all about. "The Man With The Four Way Hips" leaves the letter D for disco scorched on your forehead. "Pleasure of Love" is all peace daisies and keen observation - I met him one day at the park / I was scared because it was after dark, and he wore bad street clothes. - and "Bamboo Town" is your standard 'rock stars in the back of a cab' detour. You can hear Bamboo Town and especially The Man With The Four Way Hips here.

Speaking of druggie music, TONE CASUALTIES , Music For The Next Generation, (1998) was a free label sampler from Tone Casualties when I ordered a record from them. It's glossy and dark tech stuff from artists around the globe. All the tracks are spacey with particular mind bending attention given to Madam Crain & Wahorn's "Panties On Fire", a late night sex confessional in which Madam asserts "it's very, very zen to be with one thousand men"; it can be heard via the widget at the top of this post, Holger Czukay vs. Doctor Walker's "Backup Dream" finds the former leader of revered kraut rock band, "Can", experimenting with spooky tech and noise, and Blue and Holding's "Sleep", is a cool blend of electronica blues and Peter Gabriel mysticism from the album, "Hell".



The original cast recording of The Who's Tommy is here. I can't take it for Peter Townsend's original rock opera. Everybody sounds like they should be wearing a Vikings war helmet with animal horns. Finale "Listening To You" is climactic but a kazoo would do it justice, even The New Seekers' livened up their lives with a decent rendition of it. I've tried to warm up to this CD, but it only makes me long for the original album.

TITANIC, THE TIMBRE PROJECT, TIN TIN

It wasn't long ago I couldn't fathom enjoying an original Broadway cast recording. Aside from rock musicals like "Jesus Christ Superstar", "Hair", and even "Godspell", songs from Broadway were too simple, disposable and brassy, like an ingrained patriotic anthem you can recite as perfectly as your zip code. Video recordings of Stephen Sondheim's work changed all that, when I found great depth in the musical compositions of his Broadway hits; "Sweeney Todd - The Demon Barber of Fleet Street", "Sunday In The Park With George", and "Into The Woods". Now I savor Broadway cast recordings; a staple in thrift store record bins, and while much of it still sounds like the dreary and hokey soundtrack from last year's Ice Capades, (My Fair Lady), just as often certain shows become my favorite music. Such is the case with the Broadway cast recording of TITANIC, A NEW MUSICAL (RCA Victor). I was considering auditioning for a role in a local production of TITANIC so I bought the Broadway cast recording, and while I never did go on the audition, I've eaten the CD countless times. I remember the first time I played it - ugh!, - too 'in your face' with sentiment and laughs, too familiar, too obvious, too bloated, and too damn joyful. But I put the CD on for another spin, and then another, and another, and before long I was joining the finale chorus as a chartered member on board. To sit down and listen to the entire work became as satisfying as a great book, satisfying on two levels - to envision the dynamics of the Broadway stage and to experience the life of the Titanic as opposed to its death. The music gloriously and tragically reveals the historic incident with a broad range of the social, spiritual and psychological forces that came together on that faithful voyage. It hints at reasons for our obsession with a tragic incident that while certainly a footnote in history, is undeserving of its beloved celebratory status. Composer Maury Yeston borrows heavily from the baroque-like orchestrations familiar to music listeners in 1912, the year of the plunge, giving the piece a timely authenticity as the orchestra waves roll, the confident ship streams foreword, and in operatic verse the story is told. Moments of intense emotion; hear the fear and anger that rivals the iceberg in "The Blame"; the captains final chilling note as the ship engulfs him in "To Be A Captain (reprise)"; ship designer Thomas Andrews heart wrenching plea for salvation in "Mr. Andrews' Vision", plus more traditional show-stoppers and comedy. An actual artifact, a piece of music found among the treasures of the 1994 salvaging of The Titanic, and previously unknown to music historians, "Autumn", is a featured song and serves as a constant musical theme. I remember hearing of this show when it first played Broadway in 1997 and picturing a horrific musical comedy with a bad oceanic set design and singing people garbling as they drown, like community theatre gone berserk. Its tryouts in New York, (no out of town tryouts due to the elaborate technical production), were fairly horrific with the ship refusing to sink when it was supposed to. Reviews were generally negative, and it seemed the show was as sunk as its namesake. In walk fans like Rosie O'Donnell who featured the cast on her show, championing the musical in a high stakes word-of-mouth campaign ($?). The show became a success on Broadway, winning the Tony award for Best Musical, but never made a profit for its producers. It's a great blast of music which defines the Titanic on a musical scale and wears its Broadway rust proudly. Here is the Rosie O'Donnel clip with the cast singing a truncated version of the opening scene. And we'll be right back with Kelly McGillis.

I picked up a slew of unfamiliar indie rock titles somewhere and it included THE TIMBRE PROJECT's "Ruining Perfectly Good Songs" (Ice Cream Headache Records), Jaime d'almeida's one man, multi instrumentalist band which employs guest musicians from the Boston area. It's a breezy bit of indie rock in the songwriter vein, often coming a little too close to sounding a lot like Marcy Playground. Opening track, "Everything's Graded" is my favorite, a jangly bit of pop with a cool distorted guitar weaving in and out like the sound waves of a shaking aluminum saw.

Tin Tin is Steve Grows (guitar) and Steve Kipner (keyboards), a band produced by Maurice Gibbs of The Bee Gees, who released two albums in their short career between 1969 - 1973. Both albums tanked and in 1971 their record company half-heartedly released "Toast and Marmalade For Tea" off their first album, expecting it to fail as did previous singles. It became an unexpected hit record, and their only success. It's a ridiculous pop song with repetitious lyrics set to an off-center, off-speed eastern orient-like guitar rising to an elaborate repetition of form. It may be the worst record you ever heard. I spent a modest chunk of my childhood weekly allowance on it. Here, miraculously is a vintage video of it.

THUNDERCLAP NEWMAN, THE THOMPSON TWINS, TILL TUESDAY

How's this for a rock and roll fantasy? Imagine being the chauffeur for The Who in the late 1960s. You get to know Peter, Roger and the gang on an intimate level and eventually hand Peter Townsend the songs you have written. You want to be a rock star. He gets back to you and agrees to produce your first album and play bass on your first single. Such is the story of Thunderclap Newman, a vehicle created by Townsend to produce the songs of his former chauffeur and Who-roadie, John 'Speedy' Keen. Along with Keen on vocals and percussion, Townsend enlisted the aid of Dixieland pianist Andy 'Thunderclap' Newman and 15 year old Glasgowian guitarist Jimmy McCulloch to create the recording band. Their first single, "Something In The Air", (originally titled "Revolution", but retitled when a certain other British band released a single under the same name), with Townsend on bass under the pseudonym Bijou Drains, was a number one hit in England and rose to number 37 on the American charts. The song, an apocalyptic lofty ballad with full orchestra enticing a memorable guitar riff has earned itself a respectable reputation, having been featured in several recent movies and TV shows including "Kingpin", "Almost Famous", and "My Name Is Earl". The subsequent album, the Peter Townsend produced "Hollywood Dream", (1969) their one and only album, was also successful in Britain and developed a cult following in The States. I was introduced to THUNDERCLAP NEWMAN on a cool Autumn night when I was about 13 years old. I took a walk around the neighborhood to see what was shaking and ran into some older guys under a street light talking about music. They were buzzing about Thunderclap Newman and apparently listening to their debut, "Hollywood Dream" in stereo headphones was nothing short of nirvana. I was invited in to one of their homes to sample the album in headphones, and I soon understood their excitement. The music took me immediately. Particularly there was a harmonica piece that crackled brilliantly through headphones as if opening a psychedelic portal in my adolescent brain. For this 13 year old this was some heavy adult stereo shit. Who can explain what happens to what is essentially a one-hit-wonder band? A second single, "Accidents" from "Hollywood Dream" , culled from it's 9 minutes and 40 seconds album length, reached number 46 in England but didn't chart at all in the States, and two more singles made no noise whatsoever. The band broke up in 1971. Keen and Newman each made solo albums, and Keen produced Motorhead's first album. He died in 2002 apparently of complications from arthritis. McCulloch played with Paul McCartney and Wings and died from a heroin overdose at age 26 in 1979. Newman has recently resurrected the band under the title, The Thunderclap Newman Band and has performed some gigs in England.

The original American album cover of Hollywood Dream

Somewhere behind me is a trail of lost and forgotten records where you can find a copy of the American edition of "Hollywood Dream". It's cover, a life-sized cardboard picture of a man (Keen) propped up against the Hollywood Hills, is different than the pic on the British album whose cover now graces the CD. I'm pretty happy with the CD, (1991 PolyGram). It contains the entire album plus alternate versions and a few unreleased songs. Heavily influenced by The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper, the nearly 10 minute long "Accidents" cues all things British by Beatles' standards (think a crime ridden Penny Lane) along with jazz piano, guitar solo, harmonica and kazoo interrupted by a steady stream of screeching tires, sirens, and general shattering of glass, leading up to a psychedelia a la "A Day In The Life". There's a sweet post-hippie naivety to "The Reason", a song as pleasant and dreamy as "Something In The Air", and the name has changed but the sentiment is the same in a cover of Dylan's "Open The Door, Homer", which becomes open the door, Richard expressing the point of view of a chauffeur turned rock star. "Look Around" is a 3 minute McCoys like jangle made melodic by an addictive electric piano refrain, and "Stormy Petrel", offers a kazoo solo which, in it's simplicity reaches an uproarious comedic height.

So Jim Stone and Kevin Childs, if you happen across my blog some day - dig this, - I AM STILL LISTENING TO THUNDERCLAP NEWMAN! You can hear and see the band mock playing "Something In The Air" here in a vintage video, and the complete "Accidents" can be heard here.

The Thompson Twins have said they were living as squatters in an abandoned building in London before becoming a 1980s pop sensation. The Twins, - Tom Bailey, Alannah Currie, and Joe Leeway, not related and certainly not twins, were trimmed to a trio after Bailey, (keyboards, vocals) experimented with several other TT lineups for their first two albums. 1983's "Side Kicks", titled "Quick Step and Side Kick" in England, became a major success in England and a minor one in the U.S. The followup album, 1984's "Into The Gap", became hugely successful on a global scale due greatly to the phenomenal sales of the single, "Hold Me Now". Leeway left the group after the next album, 1985's "Here's To Future Days", leaving The Thompson Twins a duo. Bailey suffered a nervous breakdown during the making of "Here's To Future Days", which proved to be only a moderate success. Bailey and Currie were married in 1989 after publicly revealing their relationship after the birth of their first child the previous year. They had a second child and were divorced in 2003. Sales of subsequent Thompson Twins albums declined sharply in the late 80s and the band disbanded in 1993. Bailey still works in the music business as producer and songwriter. The reason The Thompson Twins are in my collection is their constant appearance in thrift store record bins. At 49 cents a copy how can I resist near-mint copies of a promotion only "Side Kicks", (Arista 6607), and "Into The Gap", (Arista 8-8200). I also have the "Hold Me Now" single, (AS1-9164).



"Side Kicks" introduced The Thompson Twins buoyant new-wave pop to most American audiences although a previous album received little airplay. "Love On You Side" is an infectious new-wave anthem, and "Watching" is truly bizarre with a mock operatic vocal track provided by Grace Jones. "Into The Gap", offers the singles, "Hold Me Now", still as crisp and catchy today as it was in 1984, "Doctor, Doctor", a more desperate love song, "You Take Me Up", a chain gang meets pop meets gospel singalong, and the title track where The Thompson Twins in all their niceness attempt a global political message with middle east musical scenery. The "Hold Me Now" single has an experimental instrumental B-side called "Let Loving Start". Here's the video for "Doctor Doctor".

Another band from the 1980s, TILL TUESDAY made a new-wave glitzy splash with a hit single off their first album. "Voices Carry", an emotionally charged ballad that builds to a canopy of swirling vocals and hook laden orchestration is TILL TUESDAY'S signature song, but it is "Coming Up Close" off their second album; a piano tinged, countrified lament that name drops Bob Dylan that I had to hear again and again. While critics buzzed about singer Aimee Mann's strong songwriting skills, that second album, "Welcome Home", suffers from being a too ordinary example of lightly feathered, heavily produced 80s pop songs. A third critically celebrated album was the swansong for the group and Mann has gone on to a successful solo career in the indie rock vein. I own Till Tuesday's "Welcome Home" CD ((Epic) and the "Voices Carry" single. Here is "Coming Up Close" mock sung by the group in a mock concert. Aimee Mann looks stunning.

3 Films: UP IN THE AIR, SHERLOCK HOLMES, BROKEN EMBRACES (Los abrazos rotos)

I've seen three theatrical films so far in 2010. That's more than I usually see in an entire year. In UP IN THE AIR, George Clooney plays Ryan Bingham, a jet setting middle-aged man employed by a firm hired by top level executives to do the dirty deed of firing employees. He spends most of his time shuffling credit cards and putting away martinis in airports and planes and flies around the country dropping into cities to deliver the bad news to unwitting working stiffs. His graceful, tactful manner in which he boots them out the door is like a good doctor delivering news of a terminal illness. His home base in contrast is a nondescript small condo that looks unlived in. He'd much rather be on a plane up in the air where he loves his life. You may never see another movie character more pleased with living than Clooney is here as the John Wayne of flight bound executives. If the film was a musical he'd be singing zip-a-dee-do-da in an airport lounge. Enter top rated recent college grad Natalie played by Anna Kendrick. She has this new idea of how to revolutionize the industry of firing. Do everything by computer. Why fly around the country to terminate an employee in Des Moines, Iowa when you can give 'em the bad news via face to face hookup, (it doesn't seem like a particularly genius idea.)? Clooney's boss, (Jason Bateman, yes the former child star), likes the idea, Clooney is livid that a new bee is about to knock him off his high cloud. The boss pairs the two of them up, - she is to fly around with him learning the business of job termination, he is to accept the termination of the old way of doing things. But just when you think the movie is about to launch into a Doris Day - Rock Hudson pillow fight, it takes a few unexpected turns, both modern movie chic and old-fashioned nostalgia, over shoots it's expected results, and ascends to its serio-comic conclusion as assuredly as a jet leaving a runway. It's a film that is hard to classify. A comedy, yes but if tragedy can be deathless, this is it. In its lighter than air theme ( we are to understand we are merely dust particles in the ultimate cosmos), it becomes almost as insignificant as a feature film offered on a continental flight, yet with a life supporting oxygen mask dangling at our side to remind us of our mortality. Most of the poor saps getting the employer axe are played by non-professional actors who answered an ad placed by the movie makers looking for recently fired people to participate in a documentary. Imagine the renegotiation when it was understood the 'documentary' starred George Clooney. Here is a preview of UP IN THE AIR.

As portrayed by Robert Downey Jr., SHERLOCK HOLMES is a bit of a boob in the new Guy Ritchie film. He's a drunken eccentric, the laugh of Baker Street, a real character who joins street boxing bouts to get his ass kicked in because he bloody well likes it. His Baker Street residence is a cross between a mad scientist's laboratory and a squatter zone, his relationship with Dr. Watson is more man-crush than gentlemanly and his deductive reasoning is rattled off as if it's a do-good pledge from a Marvel superhero. He often appears as if he's savoring a lung full of opium although the movie never indulges in that Sherlockian trait, (it may have sent poor Robert right back to rehab). I love Sherlock Holmes. I've read the stories, seen all the old movies, all the TV shows, hell if there was a Sherlock Holmes board game, I'd be playing it, a Sherlock Holmes brand of tuna, I'd be buying it. So with a slight degree of reluctance, (where does Sherlock go for blow and gay sex if not Dr. Watson?), this movie is a rowdy but welcome addition to the Holmes repertoire, somewhere between Basil Rathbone in 1939's "The Hound of The Baskervilles" and Gene Wilder in 1975's "Sherlock Holmes Smarter Brother". Downey makes a discomforting yet strangely identifiable Sherlock and Jude Law nails a patient control in what is a difficult role for actors as second fiddle Watson. I can't think of another pulp fiction over 100 years old that still fascinates readers today and this spin on Sherlock is ... well it's elementary my dear Watson.

Basil Rathbone


Pedro Almodovar is one of only a few movie directors whose work can get me into a movie house, and Penelope Cruz starring in his new film, BROKEN EMBRACES makes my attendance a certainty. She plays Lena, a struggling former actress and occasional prostitute working as a secretary to one of the richest business tycoons in South America (huh?). Anywa, Ernesto, (Jose Luis Gomez), the old billionaire has super hots for Lena, and she eventually allows him to help her financially support her oppressed family who are burdened by her father's terminal stomach cancer. Got that? She then becomes mistress to Ernesto living the life of luxury with him in his mansion until boredom and a lack of interest in house hostessing causes her to renew her acting career, (apparently she sucked acting too). She then has an affair with the director of a picture she's to star in. Almodovar puts a suspense spin to all this, as Ernesto has the couple followed and watched on film and the movie becomes a Hitchcock maze with little mystery and groundless heightened intrigue merging with a 1950s soap opera like "Back Street", with artsy comments on film making. The movie resonated cerebrally with me, it's got a visual velvety flow, but I was always expecting the film to suddenly reveal it's true core in a crucial scene but to no avail. It just sort of goes on like this. It's a thick comfy pillow supporting a vague careless dream told in flashback and forth. You can watch a preview of BROKEN EMBRACES here.

TEN YEARS AFTER, THAT PETROL EMOTION, THE THE, THIRD EYE BLIND

Ten Years After's CRICKLEWOOD GREEN, 1970 (Deram 18038) , it's title derived from an unclassified hallucinogenic plant, adorned many a stoned teen bedrooms in my youth, the picture of 70s hard stoner rock, staring back at me through a stoned haze while doing a doobie with a buddie after school while the mom was shopping or working. It's 'green' influenced album cover of stagnant collectible curios including a ponderous characterized military statue and a pair of bronzed miniature boots is as familiar to me as the light prism on Pink Floyd's DARK SIDE OF THE MOON. But I never owned it until recently. I picked the vinyl album up somewhere cheap and felt as if I had encountered a dear old friend. CRICKLEWOOD GREEN is a revered British blues rock album highlighted by Alvin Lee's fluid guitar expressing heavy blues rock and meticulous finger picking. Opener "Sugar The Road" is a snazzy bit of freewheeling rock that streams like a fast corvette on a winding mountain road, a 'roll down the windows' song if ever there was one with guitar bass drums and vocal effortlessly creating an addictive breeze of blues and rock. "50,000 Miles Beneath My Brain" is a seven minutes plus guitar layered jam that burns like a sizzling dynamite lead about to blow, and "Me and My Baby", apparently an Alvin Lee composition, if not then a blues standard, must have reached that status by now ("Me and my baby never get the blues") - it's air guitar rock heaven like you'd hear in any great blues tavern. CRICKLEWOOD GREEN has a particularly smooth mix and sound, as if the vinyl is a grade better than most, maybe due as stated in the liner notes, the music was recorded in layers of sound rather than absolute separation of instruments. Alvin Lee eventually went on to a solo career but the remaining members, Leo Lynons (bass), Chick Churchill (keyboards), Ric Lee (drums) and new member Joe Gooch (guitar and vocals) still tour and records. In 1969 Ten Years After played Woodstock and were featured in the film and soundtrack, catapulting them to fame. My VERY GOOD copy would fetch about 10 bucks on the market.

THAT PETROL EMOTION is an Irish, London based band fronted by an American vocalist, Steve Mack. I picked up the "Detonate My Dreams" CD single (Koogat) somewhere, at some time for some reason. It also includes a remix of "Blue to Black", a funk sort of dance jam, and the demo version of "Big Human Thing", a jangly pop song sounding a bit like Smoking Popes. "Detonate My Dreams" is a cool enough song with That Petrol Emotion's customary guitar onslaught. Here is the video. We're not too delighted with vocalist Steve Mack prancing around the video like a forest fairy, but the song rocks. This CD maxi-single goes for about 5 bucks.

One of the breeziest songs to flow out of the radio airwaves in 1983 was The The's "This Is The Day", from the debut album, SOUL MINING, Epic 39266, (A previously intended debut, "The Pornography of Despair", was shelved with some tracks being later released as B-sides and extras.). Although many members have filtered in and out of the British The The, the title is essentially a one man affair from writer, musician, vocalist Matt Johnson, sometimes using session players, sometimes a traditional band lineup and sometimes Johnson performed all band functions himself. The The have released six albums since their debut, their last being 2000's NAKED SELF. Interestingly, Matt Johnson has recorded several albums that have never been released but are included in all his listings of The The music. SOUL MINING could probably be found in most lists of best music of the '80s. It's industrial pop landscape full of thick synth and genuine musicianship, (Squeeze's Jools Holland lays a few mesmerizing piano runs on "Uncertain Smile", and The New York Doll's David Johanson plays harmonica on "Perfect Day") is a perfect backdrop to Johnson's brooding day-to-day survival 'too stoned to care' angst-ridden vocals. This record in Very Good condition can be bought for about 12 dollars. You can hear "This Is The Day" here -


Here's another oddball CD single in my collection, how it got there I'll never know, but there's no denying Third Eye Blind's HOW'S IT GOING TO BE (Elektra CD Single) is a fine hit song, a singable hook ridden ballad that was a major success in 1997. The unavailable elsewhere 'B' side, "Horror Show" doesn't raise this CD from a nominal market value.