Friday, January 13, 2006

Friday the Thirteenth--a new Leework

I decided to write a piece of music to honor 01/13/06, and it needed to be something I could get on paper (and cassette tape) quickly. So I made it slow and moody and full of slow-changing chords. Just what the Mad Doctor ordered.

You'll recall that I don't have a working MIDI set-up. So I went the old-fashioned route, playing "live" on my pre-USB-connection Casio keyboard into the condenser mic of my Radio Shack cassette recorder. The audio results are pretty good, considering. I spliced things together on my MAGIX program, adding an excellent, murky echo.

It wasn't my intention to swipe that dissonant chord progression from Holst's "Neptune, the Mystic" portion of The Planets--it just happened. All it is, actually, is a minor-major seventh chord with a bVI/V suspension--I guess that's what you would call it. Piece is in F minor.

Friday the Thirteenth (Lee Hartsfeld, 2006), performed by Lee on his Casio keyboard.
















Famous radio personality Bela Lugosi loves Lee's new musical piece.

Lee

MY(P)WHAE's Rock and Roll Party, Part 2

Welcome back, hep cats and hep... er... cats! Have we got a rock and roll party for you? Duh, yes.

Oh, I'm sorry. I meant, Have we got a rock and roll party for you! This is your happenin' DJ, Lee-Jay. And let's get right into it, because I'm running out of intro. We begin with Eli Whitney's uncanny imitation of what the average Elvis impersonator would sound like some 30 years later:

I Need Your Love Tonight, Eli Whitney. From Promenade EP A-55-7 2 (something like that--I can't figure out these weird Promenade catalog numbers. Looks like this was the second in a set, with set # being A-55-7. Dunno.)

And don't take your hep-cat shoes off just yet--we've got The Promineers, all the way from Goodwill in Columbus, Ohio, with a workaday version of Get a Job. Can you dig it? Well, somebody dug this one--with their phonograph needle. Several times. Ouch! Good thing it's a loud number:

Get a Job, The Promineers, from Promenade A-41 1 (the first record in set A-41? Beats me.)

And here's Pat Vale with a so-hokey-it's-campy (I mean, -cool) version of The Happy Organ. Do you think that ? and the Mysterians heard this one?

The Happy Organ, Pat Vale, Promenade A-55-7 2 (the second record in set A-55? Do we care?)

No jokes about seeing The Happy Organ in an adult theatre sometime in the '70s. Though there probably was a movie with that title....

And... what would have been our fourth track required too much de-clicking--I sort of gave up on the file. I refer to The Grasshoppers' cover of Since I Don't Have You. So, instead, here's an original rock and roll record that predates rock and roll as that music has been timelined by AMG, NPR, PBS, and Rolling Stone. Just goes to show how wrong people can be in fours. This file made its first appearance here in October:

Rock the Joint, Jimmy Preston and His Prestonians, 1949.

Hope we don't get a visit from the Rock and Roll Thought Police (whose motto is, "Don't let us catch you thinking"). Those cats can get pretty nasty. I think, anyway.













One of Lee-Jay's hep cats, Perry.

Happy Friday the 13th,

Lee-Jay

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

MY(P)WHAE's Rock and Roll Party, Part 1


















Welcome to MY(P)WHAE's Rock and Roll Party! Are you ready to jam? I am! Let's go to the Hop and Bop, Daddy-o!!!

We'll be hearing four huge hits as performed by paid imitators. And, all things considered, these cheap-label 45 RPM "covers" aren't bad at all. Not these examples, anyway--there were, in fact, some pretty awful sound-alike tracks made for cheap labels during the 1950s and 1960s, but even the worst of them are fun. And, so, I've been sticking these things in my collection whenever they show up in playable condition, which isn't often. In trashed states, they show up all of the time. And Ohio, anymore, is a trashed state.

Just kidding, just kidding. Anyway, I'd guesstimate that only ten percent of the Tops, Waldorf, Prom, etc. EPs show up in audio-restorable states of being, with the other 90 percent barely fit for a landfill (I heard that some have been kicked out). Which is not a bad thing, since it means that people loved, and played, these records to death. As a collector, naturally I would love to encounter vintage pop-culture discards in mint condition, but such items were made to be used and enjoyed, and so I'm thankful they survive at all.

I especially like finding Elvis and Chuck Berry covers--they're usually the funnest, because they typically strove to mimic the original records as closely as possible. And we begin with two of same (and both from the same EP!)--Dick Penrose's cover of Elvis' King Creole and Jerry Duane's quite competent imitation of Chuck Berry's Carol. The label lists Enoch Light and his Chorus for the second title, but I'm betting that credit applies to King Creole, because, unlike Carol, it features a vocal chorus and orchestra:

King Creole, Dick Penrose, prob. with Enoch Light Orchestra and Chorus, from Top Hit Tunes 22-1 (Waldorf Record Corp.).

Carol, Jerry Duane, from Top Hit Tunes 22-1 (Waldorf Record Corp.).

Finding a cheap-label cover of King Creole is why I stay in this hobby. Or one of the big reasons therewhy (therewhy??). Finding a good, solid cover of Blue Moon isn't a bad reward for digging through half-buried stacks of thrift vinyl, either. Groove to the expert musical mimicry of Bill Burnette and The Toppers (canned cheering):

Blue Moon, Bill Burnette and The Toppers, from Tops EP 561.

I can think of easier gigs than copying The Marcels for a low-rent record label. Great job by Bill and The Toppers. (Canned applause)

Last, and possibly least, The Wright Brothers (oh, please) fly moderately high with their adequate imitation of Danny and the Juniors' At the Hop. Again, a tough act to cover, and we can forgive a little stiffness in the steering. (Stiffness in the steering?) (Canned applause)

At the Hop, The Wright Bros., from Promenade EP Hit 23.

I used to have a stack of mint-condition Waldorf 78 RPMs--all rock and roll covers--and I didn't keep them. Can't save everything, I guess, but what was I thinking.

Listen for more cool sounds when the Rock and Roll Party continues! (Canned applause) Which will, hopefully, be soon! (Applause) O.K., enough applause. (Canned applause) Will somebody please turn that (Applause) thing off?












Your Happenin' Host, Lee

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Lee--only happy when he's pitching a, er, gripe

My MIDI issues might be on their way to being resolved. Or they might not be. One or the other, but not both.

At the moment, I'm working from advice offered by both my friend Paul and a Photon 25 customer service guy. The Alesis Photon 25, you will recall, is the MIDI controller I got for Christmas--the one that's been attended (I think that's the term) by all sorts of issues. Such as on and off (mostly off) playback sound and incorrect note registration on my music software. Both Paul and the customer service guy believe, in regard to false note placement, that my software is at fault, since the notes sound the same as they did when they were entered, regardless of what the score is showing. That seems reasonable, but two main tests have to be done: 1) I need to try alternate MIDI software (Paul linked me to some free stuff from the Net), and 2) I need to try another music program to see if the note problem persists. To 2)'s end, I downloaded trial software from Cakewalk. Now all I need is time to do all this stuff!

Anyway, software issues make for an exciting story. (Just kidding.)

Yesterday, David's very astute musical ear detected the vast similarity between Burt Bacharach's 1965 This Empty Place and The Beatles' 1964 Things We Said Today. While looking for a chord chart for the latter song, I stumbled across a Things We Said Today essay by Alan W. Pollack, a musicologist who has, apparently, analyzed all of the Fab Four's songs. And I disagree with nearly everything in his write-up. Let's take a look:

In regard to the melody, Pollack writes: "The liberal inclusion of the relatively foreign note of B-flat throughout the song adds even more spice to both the melody and harmony. Melodically, this B-flat in the context of a minor is suggestive of the exotic Phrygian mode." I'll have to get the entire sheet music (i.e., chords and notes) to observe how frequently B-flat shows up "in the inner voices of the chord changes," but I suspect it shows up outside of, or upon return to, A-minor mode. I'd go so far as to bet on it, but I'm broke, so forget that. There's no such thing as a sure bet when you're broke.

In regard to the harmony: "The B-flat chord in any mode of A is the unusual 'flat-II' or 'Neapolitan' chord (so-called because of its overly frequent use in 17th century opera of said venue), and what makes its use especially far out in a Beatles song is the fact that they resolve it directly to the I chord rather than via the V chord as is more customary in classical usage."

In other words, we should expect the Beatles to use bII-V-I?? I can think of a great reason why they didn't--namely, the fact that bII is pop music's most common substitute for V (and has been at least since the days of Paul Whiteman). To follow bII by V would be, in effect, following V with V. Which is redundant with a capital R. And the Beatles are very clearly using bII as a chromatic substitute (tritone, in this case), since the B-flat chord appears just before the song returns to A-minor mode. As Mr. Pollack notes, for God's sake!

So, the Beatles used bII/I in 1964. A gimmick that had been done to death by Ferde Grofe, Andre Kostelanetz, Percy Faith, and a host of others in preceding decades. Can you say "old hat"?

Without chord substitution, pop music as we know it would not exist. Jazz sure as heck wouldn't. I don't know what to say. Point is, I can forgive NPR pop music reviewers for not knowing triplets from straight eighth notes, and similar boners, because those guys aren't musically schooled. (Teasing them is another issue.) But how can we excuse a musicologist for such a monumentally bad call? I'm always bitching that musicologists should be the ones analyzing pop music, but maybe I need to rethink that.

Rant, rant, rant. Sorry. Music coming up, and soon!

Lee

Monday, January 09, 2006

Early Burt Special, Part 4--That Kind of Woman


















1965's Fool Killer, as recorded by Gene Pitney, is one of my favorite Bacharach-David songs. So, when I finally found a copy of the 1959 Bacharach-David classic, That Kind of Woman, I was surprised to discover that it was partly a remake of the 1965 song. Or, rather, vice versa.

It was like, "Hey, I've already heard this!" Is this an exciting hobby, or what? (No? Thanks a lot!)

Anyhow, That Kind of Woman was inspired by the 1959 Sophia Loren movie of the same name. I know this because it says so on the record label. Tab Hunter, George Sanders, Jack Warden, and Barbara Nichols also starred in that Sidney Lumet film. I can picture Hal and Burt at the piano: "O.K.--Sophia Loren is torn between soldier Tab Hunter and millionaire George Sanders. That's the plot. Let's write a song that has nothing to do with it."--Burt. "Sounds good to me."--Hal. It's a great song, so who cares?

That Kind of Woman (Bacharach--David), Joe Williams, with Orch. conducted by Jimmy Jones, 1959. Roulette 4185.

This next one, It Seemed So Right Last Night, was released in 1958, and it's basically Burt and Hal's version of Carole King and Gerry Goffin's Will You Love Me Tomorrow, only earlier and more adult in tone. If anything, the going-all-the-way theme is more explicitly stated here than in the much-better-known 1960 number, except that the singer forgot to ask her lover if he planned to call her back. That could have saved her a lot of time and worry, though it's doubtful she'd have felt any better.

The song (like Will You Love Me, come to think of it) is in AABA form. Note the seven-measure A sections, and notice how Burt-quirky the otherwise conventional bridge turns in the final two measures. When the Beatles took such liberties in pop-song form, people got all excited. But Burt had been there, done that:

It Seemed So Right Last Night (David--Bacharach), Mary Mayo, 1958. From Columbia label 45.

We follow these two very adult Hal and Burt titles with Sittin' in a Tree House, a Ray-Conniff-produced Marty Robbins novelty complete with an Alvin-style vocal chorus. I think it's kind of cute, but maybe that's just me:

Sittin' in a Tree House (H. David--Bacharach), Marty Robbins with Ray Conniff and His Orchestra, 1958. From Columbia 45.

This classic 1967 recording probably doesn't qualify as "early Burt," but the song itself (Waiting for Charlie to Come Home) dates back to 1962, the year that Etta James recorded it. I don't have, nor have I heard, Etta's recording, but I love this masterful version by Marlena Shaw more than I can describe:

Waiting for Charlie to Come Home (Bacharach & Hilliard), Marlena Shaw, Arranged by C. Stepney, 1967. From a Cadet label 45.

Now we return to Burt and Hal with 1965's This Empty Place, a song that exists in many fine versions (The Searchers, Dionne Warwick, Cilla Black), including this one by Ian and the Zodiacs:

This Empty Place (B. Bacharach--Hal David), Ian and The Zodiacs, 1965. From Philips 45.

And I just remembered that I presented The Searchers' version a few posts back. Cool. It's tough to pick a favorite between the two, as both are so well-done. Ian and the Zodiacs turned up in a flea market several years ago. The find inspired me to seek out more Bacharach titles.

We close with Close (how often does one get to do that?), a 1960 Sydney Shaw-Bacharach number that isn't among Burt's best but which makes for very pleasant listening, especially with the superb Keely Smith at the mike:

Close (Shaw--Bacharach), Keely Smith, Arranged by George Greeley, 1960. From a Dot label 45.

No worms in this early-Burt batch, proudly brought to you by MY(P)WHAE.


Lee

The Stones visit MY(P)WHAE

I just discovered that my favorite Peanuts quote, "No problem is so big or so complicated that it can't be run away from!!" is all over the Internet. And in slightly different versions, as to be expected. Wish I had the original cartoon for verification purposes. Anyway, this wonderful proclamation came from Linus--who else?

Which has nothing to do with the tracks we are about to hear, but it's always nice to learn that your favorite Peanuts quote is cyber-famous. It should be; it's a gem.

And here are three gems from The Rolling Stones, a group that I would love if it would have just kept doing this kind of stuff. But it didn't. Actually, the second offering is performed by Donna (My Boyfriend Got a Beatle Haircut) Lynn, but the tune was supplied by Keith Richard(s) and Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham. Very King-Goffin-esque, to this blogger's ears.

We start with the RS' noisy cover of The Beatles' I Wanna Be Your Man, from 1963. Better than the original, imo, and my favorite Stones side. I was therefore happy to come across a playable thrift store copy several years ago (please click on label):



















And here's Keith Richard(s) and Andre Loog Oldham's I'd Much Rather Be with The Girls, which MY(P)WHAE rather likes (please click on label):



















And we return to The Stones for the 1966 twelve-bar blues Who's Driving My Plane. Compare this to Howlin' Wolf's How Many More Years (1951), and you'll notice a pretty vast similarity. Of course, even with more musicians and more production (including a ton of echo), The Stones only managed to produce, at best, half the sound of Wolf's band. But that's a lot closer than most folks have gotten:

Who's Driving My Plane (Jagger--Richard), The Rolling Stones, 1966. From London label 45.

And now to test all of the links to make sure they're working....

Lee

Sunday, January 08, 2006

The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel endorses MY(P)WHAE!

Wow--this is getting unreal! And unreal is good. Jim Higgins' Milwaukee Journal Sentinel article "Netting Some Quality Music" has this to offer about the blog you're reading:

"Lee Hartsfeld shares his hard-earned knowledge of popular culture and his massive vinyl collection at the truthfully named Music You (Possibly) Won't Hear Anyplace Else (musicyouwont.blogspot.com)." (In case you needed a link to this page....)

Here's the entire piece: http://www.jsonline.com/onwisconsin/music/jan06/383271.asp

I can't believe it! To date, two cool plugs, for a total of 30 minutes of fame! I can dig it!

And... Mozart is 250 years old this month. Far out! January 27 is when this happens. There'll be a big celebration in Salzburg, Austria, with lots of good music and dancing. However, no one past the age of 200 will be allowed to perform in the half-time event.

(Spike Jones musical cue, loud cymbal crash; fade.)

Well, I thought that was pretty funny. A reference to the Rolling Stones' appearance at the Super Bowl, of course. Boomers were pretty steamed about the (now rescinded) decision to allow only 18-to-45-year-olds to cheer the Stones during half time--you probably read about that. I find the situation hilarious in its irony. I mean, at what point didn't my generation think its anti-older-folks attitude would bite it in the posterior? Did we fancy ourselves exempt from aging? Did we imagine that no one would notice as we put on the years and pounds? We didn't think our down-with-Mom-and-Pop philosophy would ever apply to us??

The advertising industry's answer to this problem is simple: Convince Boomers that, even though, yes, they are getting older, they're not really getting older. At least, we're not getting older in the old-fashioned (pre-Boomer) sense. Everything for Boomers is special, you see: our music, our clothes, our movies, and (now) the very manner in which we're aging. Sure, we're getting older, but we're doing it in a way that no generation has ever done before. I swear to God, that's what advertisers are pushing, and Boomers are falling for it. The thing is, such messages aren't meant to be critically processed. They pass straight through our system to the brain's Ego Center, where they compete for (and win) space from our Logic Processing Port. In Boomers, that particular port typically shows up on CAT scans as a tiny, somewhat blurry dot.

So, Boomers are getting older better and younger. Whatever the heck that means. I guess that, as I age past 50 (I'm two years away), I can expect not to: 1) fart a lot, 2) develop high blood pressure, or 3) ever be in a position to retire. Of those three, only 3) seems like a safe bet.

Anyway, damn--I'm famous! But not nearly as famous as Mozart:



















Lee

Early Burt Special, Part 3--Merv Griffin, Perry Como, George Hamilton

And Steve Lawrence. Can you beat that line-up? Well, can you? Didn't think so.

The George Hamilton, too! Wish I had the picture sleeve featuring him, but I don't. At the moment, however, eBay has two or three photos thereof. Look under Don't Envy Me.

Of the four Burt Bacharach songs we're about to hear, only Little Betty Falling Star is well-known--and, then, not very. (Whatever I just typed.) Three solid pop voices and one not-so-good set of pipes (guess whose?) for this "Early Burt Special" installment:

Along Came Joe (David--Bacharach), Merv Griffin, 1961. From Carlton 45.

The flip side of the Merv hit, The Charanga. Yes, Merv had a hit record in 1961--and if I could find my dang Merv Griffin folder, I'd give you the record's highest chart position. Something like number 90. Which is pretty good, really--just like the song. And you can do far worse than pretty good Bacharach.

Loving Is a Way of Living (David--Bacharach), Steve Lawrence, 1959. From ABC-Paramount 45.

MY(P)WHAE considers this one of Hal and Burt's best early efforts. Lyrically, it anticipates Bacharach-David songs like It's Love That Really Counts (The Shirelles, The Merseybeats), and Alfie (a bunch of artists). Steve is far smoother than most young adult crooners of the time.

You're Following Me (Hilliard--Bacharach), Perry Como, 1961. From RCA Victor 45.

Don't Be Cruel meets The James Bond Theme. Weird, but very catchy Bacharach, with lyrics by Bob (Tower of Strength, Mexican Divorce) Hilliard. Como handles the tune with his usual expert ease. (Easy expertise?)

Little Betty Falling Star (Hilliard--Bacharach), George Hamilton, 1963. From MGM 45.

Bob Hilliard lyrics, again--and good ones. Everything is right in this one, except for Hamilton's lousy singing voice. (What in the heck is up with that off-key intro??) But the arrangement (by Bacharach himself) is splendid, the tune first-rate, and what the heck--2/3 of a classic is better than none.

More early Burt to come. Meanwhile, Reverend Frost recently created this ingenious design from/with a photo posted at this very site. I like it!















I've seen this guy someplace before....

Lee