Levon Helm 1940-2012

I heard from my friend Blue Heron that Levon Helm had passed, which just broke my heart.

I adored his raspy Arkansas voice. I also loved him in Coal Miner's Daughter and The Right Stuff, which he narrated wonderfully in his trademark twang.

We will miss him so much.

Levon Helm, Drummer in the Band, Dies at 71
By JON PARELES
New York Times

Levon Helm, who helped forge a deep-rooted American music as the drummer and singer for the Band, died on Thursday in Manhattan. He was 71 and lived in Woodstock, N.Y.

His death, at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, was from complications of cancer, a spokeswoman for Vanguard Records said. He had recorded several albums for the label.

In Mr. Helm’s drumming, muscle, swing, economy and finesse were inseparably merged. His voice held the bluesy, weathered and resilient essence of his Arkansas upbringing in the Mississippi Delta.

Mr. Helm was the American linchpin of the otherwise Canadian group that became Bob Dylan’s backup band and then the Band. Its own songs, largely written by the Band’s guitarist, Jaime Robbie Robertson, and pianist, Richard Manuel, spring from roadhouse, church, backwoods, river and farm; they are rock-ribbed with history and tradition yet hauntingly surreal.

After the Band broke up in 1976, Mr. Helm continued to perform at every opportunity, working with a partly reunited Band and leading his own groups. He also acted in films, notably “Coal Miner’s Daughter” (1980). In the 2000s he became a roots-music patriarch, turning his barn in Woodstock — which had been a recording studio since 1975 — into the home of down-home, eclectic concerts called Midnight Rambles, which led to tours and Grammy-winning albums.

Mr. Helm gave his drums a muffled, bottom-heavy sound that placed them in the foundation of the arrangements, and his tom-toms were tuned so that their pitch would bend downward as the tone faded. But his playing didn’t call attention to himself. Three bass-drum thumps at the beginning of one of the Band’s anthems, “The Weight,“ were all that he needed to establish the song’s gravity. His playing served the song. In “The Shape I’m In," he juxtaposed Memphis soul, New Orleans rumba and military tattoo. But though it was tersely responsive to the music, the drumming also had an improvisational feel.

In the Band, lead vocals changed from song to song and sometimes within songs, and harmonies were elaborately communal. But particularly when lyrics turned to myths and tall tales of the American South — like “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” “Ophelia” and “Rag Mama Rag” — the lead went to Mr. Helm, with his Arkansas twang and a voice that could sound desperate, ornery and amused at the same time.

Indeed it could.

~*~

And here is one of those amazing songs that you tend to hear at apocalyptic moments. Not for nothing has it become an ongoing cinema-staple, usually played as the protagonists are figuring out something important.

I remember a fight with my mother as a teenager, and going out on the stoop to pout. Hearing the song at that moment (coming from somewhere across the street) was a spiritual lesson I needed, one of my first tutorials in The First Noble Truth.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. And Levon was my teacher, in those few moments.

The Weight - The Band



Requiescat in pace.

Dead Air Church: Reedy River drumming

Community drumming at the Reedy River today; some of the best church I've been to in quite a while. So nice.

(You can click to enlarge.)

Hope your Sunday was as rhythmic as mine. :)

~*~

How we've changed, continued

Karen Carpenter with her beloved drum kit. She was capable and confident while playing, but when she was forced to come out from behind the drums, front the band and wear dresses, that's when trouble really began. Photo from LeadSister.com.


~*~


Yes, I'm here to weigh in, once again, as an official old-timer chronicling How things have changed (belated-birthday edition).

Posts on this Feministe thread talked about weight gain:

College does not make it easy for people who struggle with issues with food. Eating disorders are rampant, but rarely discussed. We’re all familiar with the glance to a friend’s plate, to see whether she is eating macaroni and cheese or salad, and the implicit self-judgment that follows

We are? No, we aren't... and then I realized this is another age (class?) difference.

I don't remember growing up with this dynamic at all.

We didn't monitor each other. Even those of us trying to get thinner in dangerous ways, totally personalized this endeavor as our own private failure, and I don't remember paying any attention to what other girls ate, except to be jealous that they could "eat anything they wanted"--while I never could. I remember all of their ice-cream sundaes, but little else. (We didn't even know about healthy vs. unhealthy fats in those days.) Was this my working-class environment or the era I grew up in?

Back in the day, I recall eating disorders as way under the radar, and consequently, very easy to get by with. As a teenager, I starved myself repeatedly, and nobody noticed anything but the end result, for which I was widely praised. (Nowadays? They'd be onto me in 10 minutes.)

Karen Carpenter's increasingly-alarming, wispy frame was not remarked upon, except to say "Wow!"; people would say she was "dieting" too much. Because she was such a well-known, perfect, archetypal "good girl"--her death had an enormous impact on everyone.

Carpenter's death took recognition of anorexia into the mainstream, just as her music had been so accessible and mainstream.

~*~

MAD MEN continues to do a fabulous job in contrasting NOW with THEN. In the recent episode, we learn that a man who lost his foot to a riding mower (hilarious gallows humor) will also lose his job, all because of his disability: "He'll never golf again!"--may be the best line I ever heard. But anyone startled by that should remember, that is indeed the way it was in 1962. If they didn't like your disability, they could legally get rid of you for that reason alone.

Betty Draper's nightmarish birth experience (after smoking and drinking like a Rat Pack-member throughout her pregnancy), was another historically-accurate and thoroughly instructive exercise in How Things Have Changed. My mother, aunts, cousins and millions of other American women gave birth under such cruel, punishing circumstances during this era.

And remember: feminists radically changed the birth-experience for women, not pro-life fundies.

~*~

The ease and omnipresence of cell phones has made decades of phone-jokes and comedy routines (in vintage movies and television shows), truly incomprehensible to the kids. They don't quite understand how it was to get calls from people you don't know. They also don't understand that once upon a time, talking on the phone all the time was regarded as rude as hell, as well as socially inept and backward (like a teenybopper). Old movies such as Woody Allen's Play it Again Sam, in which Tony Roberts (movie-still at left) is constantly calling his answering service to leave his call-back number, was riotously funny back in the 70s... while also simultaneously communicating the idea that Roberts was unbelievably self-centered and narcissistic. But now? What, the kids wonder, is wrong with Roberts' behavior? OMG, the man must track down his unreturned calls!!!!

((sigh))

I am reminded of the social mores of the past that I regret losing...and phones in their proper place is one of these.

Not everything from the past was bad, you know. ;)

~*~

I got both a rainy day and a Monday...

Re: this video. Nobody could look good in that dress, why didn't somebody put her in some DECENT CLOTHES?! Always tried to make her look like some damn choirgirl. growf!

Rainy Days and Mondays - The Carpenters

Dead Air Church: Gotta Serve Somebody

Okay, I've got three versions, so choose the one you want!

The first one is the best, musically speaking--a live version by Booker T and the MGs, from the Bob Dylan: 30th Anniversary Celebration at Madison Square Garden. (Steve Cropper on guitar! And one of the greatest musicians ever, fabulous Jim Keltner on drums.) The second rendition is by Judy Collins, from Judy sings Dylan... Just like a Woman.

And finally, the original, from the now-legendary Slow Train Coming.

~*~

Booker T and the MGs



Judy Collins



Bob Dylan (original)

Boys swim

I am the subject of two threads at Feminist Critics.

Am I important or what?

I'll bet that never happens to you!

Well, okay, it's actually the same thread... but there is a restricted-posting version, and a regular free-for-all version, wherein the insults come fast and furious and the regular commentariat makes jokes about suddenly needing to buy guns. (I guess I make them mad.)

From the Original Poster, comes this:

Please acknowledge female privilege. Alternatively address the question set forth above. You will not get a good response on FCB [Feminist Critics Blog] if you demand that men acknowledge male privilege until you do one of these two things satisfactorily.

And I think my regular readers know that will happen (as we say here in the south) on the second Tuesday after the third week hell freezes over.

The genesis of this argument was a post I was writing for this blog, actually, which I described on FCB some time ago. I was going to write about not being permitted to play the drums as a girl, and how I think that influenced my personality. Just as many women wish they had learned to participate in sports and compete, I think it would have very good for me. Drums would have been a way to control my aggression, or perhaps (as people like Mickey Hart have said) it would have increased my concentration and meditation capabilities. I consider the fact that I never grew up unselfconsciously drumming (as a method of relaxation or as a way of having fun--a HOBBY, okay?), one of the great losses of my life.

No, I do not think I would be some star drummer like John Bonham. (As a girl, I would not have even thought of such a thing, since I had never even seen a woman drummer before.) I was merely expressing sadness, and incidentally, giving this as an example of my earliest feminist consciousness. When I grew up, in the radical feminist 70s, I met women who had been denied other supposedly "male" activities: scientific careers, knowledge of car mechanics, the chance to play on sports teams with men, etc.--and I instantly identified. I offered this as an example of male privilege, the fact that my untalented brother was encouraged to do something that I even seemed to have an aptitude for and he did not.

Needless to say, I was savaged.

No, I don't think I would have been a star. Yes, I know I could have learned as an adult, but that is not the unselfconsciousness I am discussing here--I wanted this to be second nature, as is singing or dancing (for me). Yes, I know other girls in other places learned to play, and I have even mentioned them here on this blog. Yes, I know that other families did not think playing drums was too butch, and allowed their daughters to play, but that is not the family I came from. (I probably would have been allowed to play sports, if I'd been interested. However, other girls in other families I grew up with were never allowed to wear pants; hence, no sports.)

And no, I don't think my family was necessarily "worse" than others regarding sexism ... I think sexual stereotyping is very idiosyncratic, depending upon race, religion, nationality, ethnicity, class and overall general background. I knew girls forced to wear mantillas to church, who were allowed to play very rough-and-tumble sports... I knew girls allowed to do science experiments but never allowed to wear pants... I knew girls (like me) allowed to beat up harassing, nasty boys (and it was a lot of fun!) but not play drums. Go figure. I don't know why, or pretend to know why.

Actually, I do know: life is complex. Get a fucking clue.

It seems these guys on FCB do not understand this, although they love to continuously bellyache about whatever THEY were never allowed to do... surely they understand the dynamics I describe are very similar for boys? Some boys were allowed to play with dolls, but never permitted to cry. Other boys were allowed to cry, but never wear dresses; yet certain boys could wear dresses if they called them kilts. Etc. I knew boys not allowed to play violin (the instrument forced on me) since it was considered frou-frou and girlie, but were forced to play properly manly brass instruments. Again, go figure. (Cultural note: For this reason, I've always found it fascinating that BRASS is often used as a euphemism for boldness and/or high-ranking military status.)

One of the basic truths about sexual stereotyping and gendering is how arbitrary and ridiculous it is. OF COURSE it makes no sense and is not consistent! That's how feminists first discovered it was a crock!

I am glad a lot of these things seem bizarre now, but that IS the way I grew up. It is a shining testament to the fact that feminists have made so many improvements in life for boys and girls, that all of this seems so distant and strange now. But I grew up never wearing pants to school, ever, amen. It was against the rules, and it is still against the rules at places like Bob Jones University. These anti-feminists don't want to face these facts, since they would have to admit that FEMINISM HAS DONE GOOD THINGS, and they are, as their blog name proudly proclaims, FEMINIST CRITICS. In any event, the thread in which I stated these things was my last participation on FCB.

Unfortunately, I realize I made the mistake of trying to compare my experience to other women, and since NOT EVERY SINGLE WOMAN IN THE WORLD experienced what I did, well, obviously, sexism had NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. Even though I was explicitly told that GIRLS DIDN'T PLAY DRUMS (and since I could not find one in 1964 to point to and say "What about her?"--it seemed true enough to me), obviously, I must have been imagining things, since you know, sexism doesn't really exist, or something. I was informed "my assertions were unconvincing"--and since I don't take accusations of lying well, I went off on several arrogant FCB participants. (And no, not a bit sorry.)

I tried to explain that in working class, industrial Ohio in the 60s, this is the way it was. And again, I was savaged. Know why I must be wrong? Because ELLY MAY CLAMPETT (yes, Donna Douglas, ex-girlfriend of ELVIS) was a tomboy and much-beloved by America. This proves that gender stereotyping for women/girls/tomboys was not a big deal in the 60s.

Yes, you heard it right. The BEVERLY HILLBILLIES was used as proof that I am wrong about my life. A fucking TV show!

This individual repeated this inane and bizarre statement a number of times.

And see, at this point, I whistle to the intersectionalists in my readership--YO! Hey yall, over here!

At left: Elly May Clampett (Donna Douglas) of the 60s TV show The Beverly Hillbillies churns butter with her pet possum. (With that hair, it's pretty obvious that she is hard-core tomboy, yes?)


I did not consider Elly May a tomboy, but a redneck. To an upper-middle-class Canadian like my critic, Elly May was a tomboy. (Isn't it interesting that poverty/hardscrabble existence is regarded as masculinizing to the upper-classes?) They really didn't get it that Elly May was a stereotype of a backwoods girl, albeit one who was played by a former beauty queen. But what did she do (besides wear dungarees tied with a rope) that was tomboy or butch, besides have a multitude of "critters"? Actually, nurturing animals in the style of Elly May, is traditional feminine behavior. (?) (But maybe if you think tending animals is low-class farm-work, you don't know that?)

Dumbfounded.

As I said, that was it. I left FCB, since I was too livid to continue.

And I put the drumming post on the shelf, since I was too confused, at that point, to even attempt writing it. And a good thing too.

At the city swimming pool I attended as a girl, there were segregated swimming periods designated "boys swim" and "girls swim." The boys swim was known for people getting held underwater and nearly killed, while of course, ours was civil, except for girls making fun of each other's swimsuits and boob-size.

Feminist Critics blog is "boys swim."

And thus, I hereby name the threads currently frying my ass, BOYS SWIM.

Here are some of the highlights of Boys Swim (spelling and grammar remains intact):

I get sick of hearing about it, frankly. If she wants to play the drums, get a job and buy some drums. And then play them. If her parents sucked, she should yell at them (or whatever). America is going to fall apart with these spoiled princesses and the enabling male chivalrist idiots.

This marks a first: I've been called a lot of things by men in my life, but "princess" is most assuredly not one of them.

Women are the big victims in war, because the men die and then no longer support them (paraphrased from a statement by Hilary Clinton).

It’s kind of like … I don’t care if he got drafted and then shot at and then killed, I BROKE A NAIL. Everyone pay attention to me.

And all the chivalrous males DO pay attention to her. No one cares about men. That’s why these princesses can still be complaining when they’re the most entitled, privileged, spoiled group to ever walk the earth. Maybe Daisy ought to work for a few months in a rescue mission for homeless men (and they are mostly men, don’t kid yourself). Maybe she will get a different attitude.

I think my regular readers can probably guess that I have done such work...but doncha love how they make assumptions that I have NOT, without coming over here to read and find out what kind of person I am?

[...] I do think there’s a problem in the reactionary, aggressive and confrontational way Daisy deals with these misunderstandings. It doesn’t invalidate her opinions or arguments but it does tend to inhibit the coherent and productive discussion I see as the goal of (at least) this blog.

Misunderstandings? I think I understand them just fine.

I don’t know if I should really address this because there’s a need for my rage to be put under intensive care for the moment.

Thing is, DaisyDeadHead isn’t the only one who experiences hard times due to gender. I’ve been bullied by both men and women, had been betrayed by someone I thought cared about me.

Her comments about male priveledge set me off due to the fact that I’ve never had the “Luxary” of priveledge while both genders were slinging arrows at me left and right.

It’s unfortunate we got off on more than the wrong foot.

My opinion is strictly based on the fallacy of male priveledge. Because I’m not priveledged. Period. I’m a human being who’s had his fair share of hardships. Calling me priveledged due to my sex is a surefire way to negate those experiences. That’s why those types of discussions make me explode and I haven’t participated in a gender debate for a while.

And if she has a problem with that, then whatever her opinions are strictly her opinions. But don’t go calling me priveledged.

Privileged! Nyah- nyah! Yes you are!

This one is from typhonblue, internet circumcision crank, mentioned in my last post:

By not being circumcised a girl can experience something a circumcised man never can: sexual pleasure from an intact set of genitals.

Doncha love when people say exactly what you predict they will?

At this point, the thread threatens to totally melt down into still another male circumcision discussion. (See what I mean? PENISES UBER ALLES!)

Oh wait, they get back to the subject eventually:

And assuming that you [women] didn’t fill-out the [Selective Service] form when you turned 17, I assume you’ll now be *voluntarily* placing all of the appropriate restrictions upon yourself out of principle.

Failing to do so would show that you tacitly agree with the notion that you, weak woman, are poor solider material.

Maybe it’s not as fun as smashing the patriarchy by getting stinking drunk and having kinky sex all over the place, but I know you’re serious about walking the walk in addition to merely talking the talk.

I had no idea I had such a reputation over there! No wonder they address posts to me.

When women get drunk and have kinky sex, they are smashing the patriarchy. When men do the same, they are *reinforcing* the patriarchy. It is therefore vital that women go full-scale hedonistic without restraint while men refrain from doing the same. Go ask the denizens of Feministing, and they’ll assure you that this is absolutely correct.

True, it seems to involve a double-standard, but that only ignores the *real* double-standards inherent in phallocentric hermenuetic power systems of dominance and control blah-de-blah blah patriarchy racism.

As one who has discussed alcohol and alcoholism very personally and critically on this blog many times, I'm not sure where this fella is getting this, but obviously, he has issues with some female who is not me.

But then, I guess we all look alike in the dark, right?

More from the brawl:

It’s fine with me really. I can’t say if DDH will understand my reasons for thinking the way I do, though I hope she does. I do believe that now, in the present, in 2009, male privilege and female privilege are about equal (different things in different areas), all it comes down to is what you seek and if you’re encouraged or prevented from doing it (not why I transitioned, and I certainly don’t recommend transitioning to solve this). This will affect one’s perspective.

A woman who wishes to be a construction worker versus one who wishes to be a mother and housewife. One will feel more wronged than the other or more blocked in her choices. The same for a man who wants to be a stay-at-home dad.

It is less anti-woman bias than plain categorization bias. That is, people generalize traits of a category to all instances of that category. If they don’t fit, we’ll make it fit… This applies to both men and women. Don’t want to be a provider? You better be really lucky, handsome and find the very very few women who would like to provide for you, if you’re a man…or there’s always suicide. I hear there’s a high rate in men.

And I am sure there will be plenty more... the restricted thread is about to be "opened up" so that people can pile on me even MORE!

Let this be a cautionary tale to any feminist who seeks to discuss anything with the Men's Rights crowd: Don't. They just want to put you down. They just want to generalize about you without knowing anything about your personal history. They don't CARE about anything but reducing all arguments to FORESKINS.

And if this is how they are when they are heavily moderated, imagine how they REALLY are.

Two from Disraeli Gears

Good lord, is Disraeli Gears really 41 years old?

From Wikipedia:

The title of the album was taken from an inside joke. Eric Clapton had been thinking of buying a racing bicycle and was discussing it with Ginger Baker, when a roadie named Mick Turner commented, "its got them Disraeli Gears", meaning to say "derailleur gears", but instead alluding to 19th Century British Prime Minister, Benjamin Disraeli. The band thought this was hilarious, and decided that it should be the title of their next album. Had it not been for Mick, the album would simply have been entitled Cream.

I've always wondered! Damn, the internetz rule!

Enjoy these two fabulous tunes. I shall love them passionately until I am lowered into the grave.

PS: The second song is NOT the Van Halen song of the same name!

~*~

World Of Pain - Cream



~*~

This song is so purty, you can't stand it...a big favorite of your humble narrator. Take special note of Clapton's heavenly riffs, and Ginger Baker's signature "tom-tom" drumming style. Lots of the otherworldly vibe is undoubtedly due to Felix Pappalardi's incredible production.

Dance the Night Away - Cream

Another reason to talk about the Who

Fun meme, borrowed from Ren and Amber!

Rules: Choose a singer/band/group- THE WHO

Answer the following using ONLY titles of songs by that singer/band/group
Band/Artist

1. Are you male or female? The Real Me
2. Describe yourself. The Acid Queen
3. What do people feel when they’re around you? They are all in love
4. How would you describe your previous relationship? Cobwebs and Strange
5. Describe your current relationship. Success Story
6. Where would you want to be now? Sea and Sand
7. How do you feel about love? Is it in my head?
8. What’s your life like? Quadrophenia
9. What would you ask for if you had only one wish? Tattoo
10. Say something wise. Love ain't for keeping

Anyone who wants to borrow that, feel free! HIPPIE MEMES ALWAYS!

~*~

In the movie Quadrophenia, we are treated to an inside Mod joke: punctuating the lyrics "Why doncha all ff-ff-ff--" someone helpfully bellows FUCK OFF!!!!! (instead of the much nicer, radio-safe "ff-fff-fffade away"...)

And forever after, I've always heard it that way. ;)

The Who - My Generation (at the Monterey Pop Festival)



Notice:

1) Those really amazing amoebas flashing on the stage. Was that somebody's job, to make those? (Out of squishing paint together, or what?)

2) The clothes are something else. They didn't call them Mods for nothing! Roger's cape makes him look like he is getting ready to sit down, offer you some herbal tea and read your tarot. At the end, during the pandemonium, he is just spinning around, cape flying, oblivious.

3) Nice montage at the end, of various historic destructive Who finales throughout the ages.

4) Keith defies description, as always.

Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

I've had a hectic work schedule, so my apologies to everyone I owe email to, as well as regular snail mail and phone calls! (Cousin Bethie, this means you.) I'll get around to it, I swear!

Meanwhile, you all get to listen to the Who. You really don't need much else in life.

Fun visual effects in this one, as the primitive black-and-white camera (1965, British TV) swoops around every which-way, trying to look suitably psychedelic for the times. Keith Moon looks maybe 14 years old, as he smashes away at the drums. God, I miss him. I forget which writer (possibly Greil Marcus or Dave Marsh?) said Keith kept Pete from taking himself too seriously, balancing The Who in a way that was forever lost when he passed.

Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere



From the same year, American TV (does anyone remember Shindig?)--

I Can't Explain



PS: Don't forget to watch the Vice Presidential debate tonight! To keep you occupied, by way of wonderful Cracker Lilo, comes the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator! Amaze your friends!

Earl Palmer 1924-2008

Earl Palmer, by Ken Hively of the Los Angeles Times.

~*~

I have just learned that Rock and Roll Hall of Fame drummer and extraordinary talent of the 20th century, Earl Palmer, passed away on September 19th.

Some of the songs he played on--

Fats Domino: I’m Walkin, The Fat Man, Walkin to New Orleans
Little Richard: Tutti Frutti, Long Tall Sally
Lloyd Price: Lawdy Miss Clawdy
Ritchie Valens: La Bamba, Donna
Amos Milburn: Chicken Shack Boogie
Sam Cooke: You Send Me
Smiley Lewis: I Hear You Knockin, Shame Shame Shame
Jan and Dean: Dead Man's Curve, Little Old Lady from Pasadena

Palmer was also employed by Phil Spector for the bombastic Wall of Sound in the 1960s. He played on several of the Spector-era hits such as You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin by the Righteous Brothers.

Claire Noland writes in the LA Times:

Born in New Orleans on Oct. 25, 1924, Earl Cyril Palmer was tap-dancing by age 5 on the black vaudeville circuit, touring with his mother, a singer, in Ida Cox's jazz and blues revue. He didn't learn to play drums until after serving in Europe with the Army in World War II. He returned to New Orleans and attended the Gruenwald School of Music on the GI Bill. He studied piano and percussion and learned to read, compose and arrange music.

But his childhood experiences served him well, Palmer said years later.

"I had the advantage of knowing music before I played it," he told jazz writer Zan Stewart in 1993. "Being a dancer gave me an understanding of rhythmic 'time,' and you can't teach that."

After the war, Palmer also began playing drums with the Dave Bartholomew Band and the house band at Cosimo Matassa's J&M studio in New Orleans. Jazz, blues, R&B and country music were fusing into a new, distinct genre of music, with Fats Domino, Little Richard, Lloyd Price and Smiley Lewis the frontmen laying down tracks in the early 1950s for what would become known as the beginnings of rock 'n' roll.

"What we were playing on those early records was funky in relation to jazz," Palmer told The Times in 2000. "What we were playing already had that natural New Orleans flavor about the music. I played the bass drum how they played bass drum in funeral parade bands."

In 1957 Palmer moved to Los Angeles to work for Aladdin Records but quickly became a first-call session drummer.

Besides providing the driving backbeat on many rock 'n' roll tunes, Palmer can also be heard on recordings by jazz and pop stars Frank Sinatra, Sarah Vaughan and Doris Day, as well as on the TV theme songs for "Mission: Impossible," "Green Acres" and "The Odd Couple," among others.

Also: Tribute to Earl Palmer.

Resquiat In Pace.

~*~

Earl Palmer - Walkin

Her life was saved by rock and roll

Today: nostalgic musical interludes. Run away now!!!

Looking over my old posts, I was horrified I didn't blog this video for my obituary of the Outlaws' Hughie Thomasson. Then I realized, I didn't yet know how to embed videos!

I know now, so I feel obliged to post it.

Just keep in mind, this isn't just a SONG (there's no video)--it's an ANTHEM, and just like the 1812 Overture or something, it just can't be any shorter. Just so you know.

I assume only the Deadheads and/or southerners will stick around for all 10 minutes! Yall have heard of "dueling banjos"? The last two minutes of this song is "dueling electric guitars"--and a more righteous noise you ain't likely to hear in this lifetime.

Green Grass and High Tides - The Outlaws

[via FoxyTunes / The Outlaws]

~*~

On Sunday, I mentioned my magical thinking.... and this is exactly the kind of thing that reinforces it: I have been looking for the following song since the advent of the net, literally, for well over a decade. I Googled the lyrics; I tried in vain to remember the name of the band. Was I spelling it wrong? No sign of it. It was a favorite of someone I knew, who died in November of 1979. Were we the only two people who heard the song? It was like a phantom. He is gone, the song is gone...and truly, it is like there is no record of him anywhere. If I could find the song, it would prove---what? That he isn't gone either. He is somewhere.

His birthday was June 10th, which started me looking for it all over again.

It was posted for the first time, yesterday, the 11th.

(See, "coincidences" like that are just too MUCH for me!)

And so, for Keith Alan Koon, at long last: Music Eyes.

He had them.

Music Eyes - Heartsfield (1974)



~*~

This song goes out to ex-Plexus (Bay Area feminist newspaper, published approx 1974-1983) news editor Kelly Eve McRae, another person it is virtually impossible to locate. Unfortunately, there is a Christian artist with the name "Kelly McRae"--rendering most searches maddeningly hopeless. (I know they aren't the same person, since they appear to be several decades apart in age.)

If you're out there, drop me a line.

More magical thinking: she wore her hair like this, too.

Temptation - New Order

[via FoxyTunes / New Order]

~*~

And finally, the song featuring the title of this post... I was over five years old (the age of the song's precocious protagonist) when I first heard it, but you know, not by much. If only they had allowed the Velvets on TV, I could have seen Maureen Tucker for myself and known that YES! There are WOMEN DRUMMERS! It might have changed my life. By the time I saw Karen Carpenter, they had already foisted the violin on me. (And besides, they made her stop playing the drums, too.)

The bang-up remake of this song by Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels, inserted "Detroit station" in place of "New York station"--so I guess we all fill in our hometowns, if we identify with the story.

And ain't it the truth?

The Velvet Underground - Rock and Roll

[via FoxyTunes / The Velvet Underground]