Category Archive

By Max Conroy

Towards the end of the summer, I went home.  In this case, home is where the stuff is, as my mom sold the home where I grew up a few years ago and we moved everything to our house in northern Michigan, where my mom grew up.  So every time I go up north, I rummage through neatly labeled boxes in the basement, under the stairs, that contain all the crap I’ve left behind over time to see what I can bring back with me.  This strikes fear into my girlfriend’s heart because I have a tendency to accumulate books, movies, and records and she’s worked very hard to thwart my progress.  There were a few books and records that I was specifically looking for that I found right away, and I noticed a box that had my dad’s old 45s, and took it upstairs to look through while watching some of the Olympics.

I really didn’t have much hope for what I’d find in my dad’s records.  I’ve gone through them dozens of times and have taken everything that I thought might possibly be cool long ago.  But in the past year, I’ve gained an appreciation for the 45 and have learned a lot about what to look for.  Also, my dad didn’t like cool music.  I specifically remember asking him when I was a teenager what his favorite band was and he said the Eagles.  He liked stuff like the Oak Ridge Boys and the Pointer Sisters and the 1970s Elvis. 

Everything in the box from the 70s on was of no interest, but I started to notice some R & B records from the early to mid 60s; stuff on Chex, Tamla, Wand, Nasco, even Stax.  I also started to notice that there were duplicates of certain records, which I thought was odd.  This was like stepping into the Twilight Zone because I could have sworn these records weren’t there the several times that I’d looked through them before.  Could my dad have liked real Soul music at one time?

Eventually I came across a 45 where there were about a half dozen copies, which seemed very strange.  The band on the label, Lee Records out of Lansing, Michigan, was the Marauders; and the songs Lovin’ and Nightmare.  Garage Rock?  With a name like the Marauders and such moronic song titles, it had to be.  I was weirded out for a second, put a couple copies of the record in the pile to take home and forgot about it till I made it back home to my turntable.

My mind was blown when I put it on: rudimentary guitar, monotonous vocals, primitive drums, unbelievably simple lyrics.  This was quintessential Garage Rock, akin to the best stuff found on comps like Pebbles and Back from the Grave.  I attempted to do some research online, but couldn’t find anything on the Marauders of Michigan.  I found a bunch of references to bands throughout the Midwest called the Marauders, but none were from Michigan or mentioned this single.  One article even states that a group called the Marauders decided to change their name mid-tour because there were so many bands with the name in the area.  I tried searching for information on Lee Records from Lansing, Michigan and the songwriting geniuses responsible for this masterpiece, Remington and Anschuetz, but found nothing.  There are two listings of the record on Popsike, both from 2004, with no information about the band or the label.

Unfortunately my dad past away a few years back, so I’ll probably never know what in hell he was doing with at least six un-played copies of such an unusual record.  Maybe he knew the guys in the band?  He used to own an appliance store that sold some records, so maybe he bought someone’s collection, maybe one of the guys in the band?  I doubt very much that he would have thought the record collectable back in the day.  I asked my mom about it and she didn’t have any idea, but said that she remembered my aunt saying something about some of her records getting mixed in with my dad’s when he took them from my grandmother’s house.  Perhaps I’ll ask her about it; perhaps I’ll just assume that my dad was young once and bought some records that seem cool 40 plus years later…but six copies of one very, very rare 45? 

Lovin’

Nightmare

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by Cousin Geoff

I’m rolling out a new feature here on Cousins Vinyl.  It’s called “Guess That Sample”.

It’s really a shame that sampling is pretty much outlawed now in hip-hop; it’s killing the genre.  Sampling is what the art is based on - not only is it a tribute to the funk and jazz that came before it, but it’s how it was born in the first place.  It’s probably why I gravitate towards the old school stuff, yeah - I grew up on it - but I really have no interest in listening to most of today’s rap: some bullshit negative lyrics backed by a generic, synthetic beat made by the same two or three guys that sell ‘em to all the top rappers.  It’s garbage - give me the old stuff with heavy samples any day.

A lot of times I’ll be listening to a 70s funk or jazz album and I’ll have one of those - ”hey! that’s the sample off the so and so record!” - moments.  Justin and I just drafted a bunch of 70s jazz/funk records off a collection we bought recently.  I was listening to this Rasta Afro-funk group called Cymande tonight, their self-titled debut album, and I heard a sample I recognized right away.  It’s from their song, Dove.

Listen to it and see if you can guess who sampled it.  Then click “read the rest…” below to get the answer and hear the track that it’s featured on.

Read the rest of this entry »

By Max Conroy

Living in Ann Arbor, it’s strange to have to purchase a European import that compiles a bunch of records recorded here, but I’m glad it’s available at all.  The name of the label, A-Square, is a nickname for the city of Ann Arbor.  It was created by Jeep Holland, a compulsive music and comic collector, DJ, manager, promoter, and manager of Discount Records, the store that Iggy Pop worked at as a teenager.  Holland would stock import records that no other stores would carry, British Invasion records, and get a feel for what area kids would respond to in the store and while DJ-ing events.  He met local musicians at Discount and eventually started promoting some of them.  In 1965 he began producing records exclusively as promotional material to get gigs for acts that he was promoting and put them out on his A-Square imprint. 

In five years, he put out records by approximately a dozen bands, including the MC5, the Rationals, the Scot Richard Case (SRC), the Up, and the Frost; all Detroit legends.  By 1970, for a myriad of reasons, including his domineering personality, poor business acumen, lack of payment from distributers, and changing times, he left Ann Arbor for Boston, leaving behind A-Square records and a wake of debt.  A lot of these records are very hard to find now, 40 plus years later, and the 45s have been the only way to hear most of these great bands.

A-Square (Of Course) was released this past May on Big Beat Records, distributed and marketed by the mega-reissue label Ace Records out of the UK.  The title comes from a button issued by the label that read A-Square (Of Course).  There are definitely some issues with this package, but the good greatly outweighs the bad.  First off, there are no Rationals tracks on it, which seems odd since they were the biggest act on A-Square and the label’s flagship act, but Ace intends on releasing a compilation of their work on A-Square soon, to be named Think Rational! (again from a button).  According to Scott Morgan of the Rationals, they’re still working on obtaining the rights to the masters.  Secondly, this is by no means an exhaustive collection of A-Square’s catalogue, which would require a multiple-disc release.  This collection contains 25 tracks by ten bands, 8 tracks by the Thyme and 5 by the Scot Richard Case.  More than half of the compilation is music that was never released originally, which is great if you’re looking for really rare stuff, but not if you’re looking to have high fidelity copies of the famous records that were actually released on the label.  Also, there are several bands that recorded for A-Square whose masters cannot be located and are not represented here; the Jagged Edge, the Children and the Gang most notably.

The bottom line, however, is that this anthology is filled with a ton of highlights and is most definitely worth the $19.  It contains an early MC5 single, Looking at You/Borderline, which has been released a ton and isn’t that rare, but is great to have in this context with fantastic documentation in the liner notes.  Apparently, Holland and John Sinclair didn’t get along that well for a variety of reasons, even though Sinclair managed the group and Holland was in charge of booking them.  According to the liner notes:

Jeep:  Sinclair went into United Sound and recorded that record with Danny Dallas, then just decided to use my label name.  He designed his own A-Square label, designed his own package and just put it out.  He finally got around to informing me as the record was coming out: ‘Oh, by the way, I put the record out on A-Square.’…My label was a success, and John thought it would get his record more attention… Danny Dallas told me some wonderful stories about that session.  He said they immediately turned their amps up as loud as they could go.  Danny kept trying to tell them, ‘You don’t have to do that.  Get a good sound and I’ll boost it in here.’  But no, John Sinclair came into the control room, looked at the board and went like this [sweeping arm motion] pushing every one of the faders up all the way.  Then he ate a big chunk of hash or something and lay down on the floor while the band played. 

Let’s just say that it’s not the 5’s best moment sonically, but well worth hearing and a great addition to this collection.  Also featured here is a rare live recording of the Prime Movers.  The Movers were a highly respected blues outfit in the Ann Arbor area at the time that never released anything.  The band included Michael Erlewine, the brain behind the All Music Guide, on vocals and harmonica and a young Iggy Pop on drums.  The track here is a cover of the Yardbird’s version of I’m a Man that was used as a tape that Holland took to New York probably around ‘66 to promote the band.  It actually features Iggy on vocals instead of Erlewine and might possibly be the earliest recording of Iggy singing.  The Up’s Just Like an Aborigine is a raw-as-hell protopunk gem and another massive highlight on this disc.  Everything else not mentioned here is good if not great, making this a must have for anyone even remotely interested in psyche, garage rock, the Detroit high energy sound, or Southeast Michigan culture.

The Up’s Just Like an Aborigine:

By Max Conroy

On Wednesday night, Donita Sparks and her band the Stellar Moments performed at the Magic Stick.  They were great.  Unfortunately, there had to have been less than fifty people there, even thought it was a featured event in most Detroit entertainment papers.  It’s a bummer, but those are the breaks; hopefully the turnout in Detroit wasn’t indicative of the turnout for the entire tour. 

Observing this band from a slight distance makes me like them all that much more.  They all hung out in the bar before the show and seemed approachable and even goofy.  I’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately and had a chest cold, in the middle of a heat wave, the night of the show, so I opted not to speak to anyone other than Cousin Justin, and I could hardly understand what he was saying half of the time.  Most of the band also made it a point to watch the young opening acts, and were very supportive of them.  This shows a lot of empathy and character because there is nothing more disrespectful or arrogant than not paying any attention to your opening acts.  The Stellar Moments also tuned their own instruments and did the sound check; to save costs I’m sure, but the overall sound of the show only benefitted from this simple act. 

They played a full hour set and did an encore.  The set consisted of the entire Transmiticate album and three L7 tunes.  Donita has still got it to be sure and was all over the stage shaking her ass, blonde hair a blur, gold tooth shining in the lights.  Allan the Italian was a perfect lead accompaniment to Donita and Logan’s rhythm guitar.  Dee Plakas created a driving train of sound while Dat No (probably spelled wrong) carried the rhythm.  Donita declared that the crowd was tiny, but mighty.  Everyone there loved it and was dancing instead of head banging, as Donita predicted in the interview that I did with her.  Should have been there, man.  You missed out on this one. 

I’m posting a couple of tracks from the show.  Again, a Digital Voice Recorder that has a built in mic was used, so this is hardly representative of what the show actually sounded like; the vocals were much more prevalent at the show.

Pretend We’re Dead:

Headcheck:

By Max Conroy

Four years ago, I had the chance to see Bo Diddley play a concert at Fitzgeralds, a small bar on the outskirts of Chicago where they filmed some of the Color of Money, for his 75th birthday.  All I had to do was hop in my car or catch a train and go, but I got lazy and probably spent the night doing something very unmemorable.  Living in a thriving metropolis like Chicago numbs one to culture because you can do something great every night, all year round.  You have to pick and choose and I chose poorly here.  I was definitely into Bo Diddley at the time, and I think must have got a lot more heavily into his records shortly thereafter.  I didn’t read any reviews of the show and have no idea if he was good or not, but that would have been beside the point…it’s fucking Bo Diddley, man.  This ranks up there at the very top of my rock and roll regrets list, along with missing out on seeing Johnny Cash, pre-revival, in Kalamazoo and hearing about the last Pavement show in Michigan days after it had happened. I knew that I would never have another chance to see him live.

Bo Diddley died in Florida today of heart failure.  He’d had a stroke, followed by a heart attack a year ago and had been in poor health since.  He was 79 years old and one of the people that created rock and roll. 

When I realized, after years of seeing the name E. McDaniel listed as the writer of songs that were such blues and rock and roll standards that I thought that they must have been traditional arrangements and the name a ruse like Allan Smithee in the film industry, that it was in fact Bo Diddley, I gave him some serious listening attention.  A lot of people dismiss Bo Diddley as a one-trick-pony, and those people are missing out in a big way.  Sure, he did ride the wave of rhythm that he created on the track Bo Diddley for a long time, but the power and influence of that rhythm cannot be overstated.  EVERY garage band has used it, from Buddy Holly on.  But there was so much more to his sound than that rhythm.  He wrote some fantastic straight blues numbers and countless chugging rockers; take a handful of your favorite rock and roll records recorded in the 60s, flip them over and see how many times you see the name McDaniel.

Bo Diddley, sadly, doesn’t get the respect he deserves, but I’m confident that his importance to rock and roll will be realized as long as people continue to look back and question what is rock and roll and where it came from.  Here are four examples that made me a huge fan of his.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to listen to his music without thinking about that show at Fitzgeralds…

Bo’s Bounce:

Keep Your Big Mouth Shut:

I Can Tell:

Road Runner, from Beach Party: one of the best live records of the early 60s:

By Max Conroy  

The co-founder of the great all girl rock/metal/punk/raunch band L7, Donita Sparks, has just released her first solo record since the band’s break up eight years ago.  The amount of time between break up and solo effort might make some fans a bit skeptical as to the quality of her new material, but a lot has happened to the music industry in the past eight years, and it’s a lot more difficult to make a record these days when it’s on the artist’s dime.  Allow me to assuage any trepidation that you might have regarding this record because of how long ago 2000 seems.

I first heard that Donita Sparks and her new band the Stellar Moments were releasing a record not by Mojo or Pitchfork, but on Fresh Air with Terry Gross.  The review was by Ken Tucker, their music critic, whose reviews I greatly admire.   

I hadn’t thought about L7 for awhile, but they definitely have a place in my subconscious.  Bricks Are Heavy and Hungry for Stink are several albums that came out at that magical time for me, where development goes into overdrive and everything was confusing, troubling and magical; the junior high, early high school years.  They were big players in that soundtrack of those awesome, yet horrible times for me and most people that I can relate to now whether they realize it or not.  For example: a couple of years ago, I met a new friend and we were hanging out at his place; he was into psychobilly music and I was into protopunk at the time; the first record he put on was Bricks Are Heavy and it was the perfect choice…we both knew that we had a lot in common at that point.   

Natural Born Killers was also a polarizing experience for me when it came out; looking back on it, it seems like the A Clockwork Orange of my generation.  I can remember smoking weed out of a pop can with my two best friends on an outcropping in front of the movie theater before attempting to sneak into the film because we were underage.  Shitlist is still my favorite song on that soundtrack and the scene where Juliette Lewis puts the coin in the juke box and slices up that redneck while it plays, the most memorable in the film.

I also was lucky enough to have seen L7 on the ‘94 Lollapalooza tour at Pine Knob in Detroit when I was fourteen.  I was lucky enough to have some college-age neighbors that I grew up with who knew I was into music heavy.  When L7 went on early in the day, I remember looking to my friends and saying, “Those are some crusty bitches.  I wouldn’t mess with them.”  And that’s been my impression of them ever since; intimidation based on their hardcore stage presence.

Nostalgia in art and literature is regarded as something to be avoided at all costs.  I guess that it kills the ability to think in the present and clouds memories in a grotesque rosy hue.  But I’m a nostalgic person at times and all of this history came back to me as Terry Gross’ intro faded and the first notes of Need to Numb came through my speakers.  I had to stop what I was doing and listen.  It’s a straight ahead NY Dolls style rocker that convinced me right there before the review even began that this record has to be good.  Tucker’s review was laudatory and included clips of Creampuff, a take on the 60s girl group sound, and He’s Got the Honey, probably the most commercial song on the album; a good overview of the record.

A little while later, I acquired Transmiticate (the album title is a made-up word, combining transmit and communicate) and am quite impressed by it.  Make no mistake, it’s a departure from L7, but the evolved sound is an appropriate balance of maturity and the best of what L7 had to offer: fuzz and great hooks.  The album incorporates modern electronic effects, particularly on layered backing vocals, and the classic human/band feel beautifully.  The production by Ethan Allan is par excellance and the drums played by Dee Plakas, the only other member of L7 on the record, are fantastic, tight and big. The record successfully jumps tempos throughout and ends with a ballstothewall rocker, Into the Hi Fi.  If you are looking for new music that’s provocative, a fan of L7, or interested in supporting people out there that still give a damn about rock and roll, you should find this record.

A few weeks after hearing the review of Transmiticate on Fresh Air, I was presented with the opportunity to interview Donita in conjunction with her show here at the Magic Stick on June 11th.  I jumped at the chance, but was a bit cautious based on my teenage impression of L7.  I did some research and watched some interviews that she’s done recently and was happy to learn that she’s a seemingly normal person that probably wouldn’t put me on her shitlist and knock my teeth out if I mumbled the wrong question. 

Here’s my stellar moment with Donita Sparks…

Read the rest of this entry »

 By Max Conroy

My struggle lately has been that I have way too much music to listen to.  In the past year or so, I’ve had some incredible resources and have acquired more music than I could realistically listen to.  It’s obviously the result of some sort of compulsion that I have to collect things.  But records are meant to be listened to, and I feel guilty about having some of the best records ever made lying around where I’m only able to dedicate a cursory listen.  Also, my interests wax and wane like the moon, so I’ll have some records that I’ve just purchased and my interest in that genera of music will fall by the wayside, the record filed to be stumbled upon when my interest in that music reawakens.  I guess the solution is to make it a point to try and not acquire anything new.  Don’t worry, readers, I’ll have plenty of stuff to write about.

For some reason, last night I actually went through my CDs and pulled out a huge pile and pretty much froze because it was late, past midnight, and I wanted to listen to everything, but I didn’t want to be up till sunrise.  I’ve been getting back into rock and roll, from jazz fusion and soul and funk.  I had also just hooked my DVD player up through my stereo, so I wanted to be able to watch a bit of something before I went to bed, so I had to make a tough decision, but I sure as hell made the right choice.

Starship, The MC5 at the Sturgis Armory June 27, 1968 is, in my mind, the best document of the MC5 live.  Don’t get me wrong, Kick Out the Jams is a hell of a record, but it doesn’t necessarily represent the 5 accurately with regards to their live show at the time.  They knew that they were going to make a record and had to trim parts of the set, like Black to Comm and various jazz and soul medleys from their set to make a digestible product for the masses (I’m not saying they sold out to the man or anything, they do say ‘motherfucker’ in the first five minutes, before their most commercial song).  The sound on Starship is obviously from someone in the crowd, so this is how it pretty much sounded if you were standing in the Sturgis Armory.  A lot of people don’t realize that soundboard recordings aren’t necessarily the shit because they just capture the sound that’s pumped through the system and not what comes out of it. 

Where is Sturgis you ask?  It’s in southwest Michigan, not far at all from where I, and Cousin Justin, grew up.  The area now is probably a ghost town, but back in the day when muscle cars were king the place was probably still out of the way.  This show catches the 5 playing their set in all its glory in a small town and displays perfectly their mettle.  They didn’t care where they were playing or who to; when they stepped on the stage it was all over; they were going to destroy any other band that dared share that stage, no matter who it was, Cream or Led Zeppelin.

I had to put the headphones on for this one as it was late and I needed volume, so I recommend that you do the same.  Find your headphones and brace yourself…

Rama Lama Fa Fa Fa:

James Brown’s Cold Sweat:  Dig Dennis Thompson’s drumming on this track.

PS:  In my opinion the only other live performace by the 5 that rivals this is Thunder Express, a live set in a European studio.  Go figure, Cub Coda gave it two stars in AMG, haha.

 By Max Conroy

Hong Kong Blues by Hoagy (ne Hoagland) Carmichael was recorded for Decca in 1942; he penned it and recorded it in ‘39 originally.   It’s a unique side recorded by one of the most highly regarded song writers of the first part of the last century.  Two of his biggest hits were Georgia on My Mind and the A side of this single Stardust. 

The song is a cautionary drug tale about “a very unfortunate colored man who got arrested down in old Hong Kong…for kicking Buddha’s gong.”  Kicking Buddha’s gong is a dated term for smoking opium. It took me a second to realize what he was singing about when I first heard the song.  It’s fairly subtle till the end of it where he actually mentions opium.  He doesn’t mention any specifics about the drug or his habit, only that he cannot leave Hong Kong for his home, which he tells everyone is in San Francisco, but is actually in Tennessee.  The geographic centering of the song is kind of strange in that he’s not from San Francisco but later in the song where Carmichael switches from the narrator’s third person to the first person testimonial, he keeps mentioning San Fran as his home.  Also, how would an unfortunate brother end up in Hong Kong in the 1930s? 

All of this gives one the impression that Hong Kong is opium addiction itself.  The only specific moment where you can really put yourself in his shoes is where he sings:

“Won’t someone believe me/I have a yen to see that bay again/But when I try and leave/Sweet opium won’t let me fly away.“ 

He’s asking his fellow opium enthusiasts in the den to take his desire to quit drugs seriously, but he’s obviously ignored. Also, the use of the word ‘yen’ is a pun here as it comes from the Chinese words for ‘addiction’ and ’smoke’.  Carmichael once described his voice “…as the way a shaggy dog looks…I have Wabash fog and sycamore twigs in my throat.”  His inflection and the first person voice in the middle of the song made me assume that Carmichael was black, so I was surprised to see a picture of him, white as can be.  Another strange thing about this song is that it’s difficult to discern exactly when he’s singing this in relation to his incarceration.  He doesn’t lament getting arrested and still has hope that he’ll make it home, so I’m inclined to think that he’s speaking before he got arrested. 

In the chorus he sings that he needs someone to love him.  When I first heard this, I thought that it was such a 1930s view of drug addiction that finding a good woman could save you from yourself and drugs, but if you listen to the rest of it, he’s asking to find someone that loves him so they can take his body back home.  Pretty grim stuff.  There’s also a part where he begs for fifty dollars to get home with, but one is left with the impression that he’d blow it on dope.

This music is great for the depressant glow of a burgeoning alcohol buzz, alone.  The white jazz comes out a bit more on Stardust, but it’s still worth a listen eighty-one years after it was written.

Hong Kong Blues:

Stardust:

by Max Conroy 

If you refer to my post about the jazz flute, you know that I’m just getting into soul/funk-jazz/fusion.  I’m crazy about the stuff.  It’s also allowed my formerly tepid interest in hip-hip to expand slightly.  It’s like punk rock for me; not the music of course but how I view it.  Some of my favorite music, proto-punk, is the music that led directly to the development of punk rock, but I really don’t like straight punk all that much.  I love the Dead Boys and the Sex Pistols, but both bands were badass rock and roll acts before they were punk.  I love all of this music that’s been sampled a ton or could be sampled if it hasn’t but can take or leave the hip-hop that’s made it famous, so far at least.  As my obsession has grown for the (I’ll call it fusion, to incorporate soul/funk-jazz) fusion over the past few weeks, I’ve purchased a shit ton of great records and thank God some of it can be found cheaply. 

I’d heard of the Ramsey Lewis Trio, but that was probably from hearing them mentioned by NPR DJs a split second, before I slammed the radio off in disgust before my appreciation of fusion.  I totally thought that they were venerated by jazzbos and that they were classic bop, but how wrong I was.  Justin hooked me up with a rough copy of the In Crowd, which is apparently an early soul-jazz classic.  After digging the album, I also noticed that reissues of it are advertized in Waxpoetics, and have noticed the record at numerous shops and online.  I thought that the record would be pricey, but since it obviously sold well for a jazz record and was on Chess’ Argo imprint, it’s insanely cheap.  Like you would pay three times what an OG copy would cost to get the reissue.  Dig the ‘In’ Crowd…

I also recently picked up Ramsey Lewis’ Sun Goddess for cheap.  The cover alone is worth the money, but the music could have been sold in a paper bag and it’d still be sweet.  It’s ten years after the In Crowd and the funk had dropped in the meantime, and it’s obvious on this record, that Lewis was hip to it.  Check out Sun Goddess, Livin’ For the City (the S. Wonder jam) and Jungle Strut…

On the Blue side of things; some Blue Note records from the periphery of their dark days can be got fairly cheaply too.  Some of these records sold very well, which makes them easy to find and cheap, but not bad at all.  For instance, Donald Byrd’s Black Byrd (the best selling record in the entire Blue Note catalogue) and Byrd’s Best are about $10 records; the cover of Black Byrd, depicting a black wedding or hoedown of some sort, ca. 1890 is worth it, and the music’s funky as can be, slightly dated, but that’s a large part of the appeal for me.  I recently acquired Grant Green’s Alive! album, which is a live gig recorded in a small club with Idris Muhammad tearing the place up on drums, for $10.  I’m not as much of a purist as the Cousins and will pick up a reissue or a comp here and there, and found a Grant Green record that was part of the Blue Note Breakbeats series for under $10.  Sometimes on these records, as with every record, there are bum tracks, but it seems more common for jazz records to me, so a comp with six of the most notable tracks by someone can be a good thing.  But I don’t necessarily think that’s true for Grant Green; I’m willing to bet that anything he did in ‘70 and ‘71 with Idris Muhammad on drums is good throughout.  Ronnie Laws‘ Pressure Sensitive must have also sold a shitload because it’s everywhere and it’s cheap.  One of my dad’s buddies gave me his record collection when I was about fifteen.  There were about fifty or so records, all early 70s stoner rock…and Pressure Sensitive.  It’s like the fusion Frampton Comes Alive, but way cooler.  Here are Grant Green’s Sookie Sookie (the Don Covay song) and Ronnie Laws’ Nothing to Lose…

by Cousin Geoff

Frikid Pink is one of those bands that is consistently overlooked and underrated among late 60s Detroit garage rock acts.  I posted before about the Soulbenders and thier version of House of The Rising Sun.  Frijid Pinks’s take on it shows why they were a national act and the Soulbenders were stuck in the West Michigan local dance scene.  And yeah, the Soulbenders recorded on Fenton, and they’re obscure, and that sort of makes them cooler now, but in terms of pure ability, there’s little comparison.

This record, which features their big hit - a guitar-heavy version of House of the Rising Sun, propelled their first, self titled album on Parrot.   This song is the pinnacle of what Frijid Pink was about.  They apparently were so popular in Detroit around 1969 that Led Zeppelin opened for them.  However, you hardly ever hear them mentioned in the same breath as The Rationals, SRC, The Stooges, early Bob Seger, The MC5 - first-team Detroit rock and roll bands from that era.  They seem to be on that second-team list, along with bands like Mitch Ryder, Brownsville Station, or The Frost.  Why is that? 

Listen to House of The Rising Sun:

by Cousin Geoff

Ann Arbor based rock and rollers Brownsville Station had a breakout hit in 1973, with Smokin’ In The Boys Room, rising as high as #3 on the U.S charts that year.  Smokin’ was one of the first teen-angst songs, about pissed off students taking relief by sneaking into the boys room for a smoke.  I like the B side even better, though, a great garage cover of Robert Parker’s classic jam Barefootin’, also done well by The Rationals off their album on Crewe. 

According to Wikipedia, the bass player, Mike Lutz, works at Oz’s music in Ann Arbor and teaches guitar and bass lessons.  That’s awesome!  Mike, if you read this, can you tell us a little more about the band?  Brownsville Station was led by crazy man Cub Coda, whose wild stage antics were well-respected and studied by many, including Alice Cooper.  Can’t you hear School’s Out as the perfect song to play next after Smokin’?

Check out Barefootin’:

And here’s Smokin’ in the Boys Room:

 by Max Conroy

I first heard about the Third Power on this site a long time ago when the Cousins did a write up about their bass player Jem Targal in response to finding a signed copy of his rare solo album Luckey Guy.  I downloaded Believe, the only album released by the Third Power and didn’t feel too bad about it because of the album’s obscurity; I believe that it isn’t too hard to track down on CD though.  The download that I got was ripped from a record and the guy recorded the second side first, which I didn’t realize till finding the vinyl a few weeks ago.  It doesn’t get much better than this if you’re looking for an aggressive, Grande-era Detroit power trio.  I’ve scoped this record every now and then for the past few years on EBay and it seems like every copy that I’ve seen was in Europe, which is odd since it only sold about 16,000 copies, mostly in the Detroit area.

Like the record itself, information regarding the band is pretty rare.  For the most part everything out there is very basic and states that the band formed in Detroit in the late 60s, were very loud, had a cult following, released one record, it flopped, they went their separate ways, the guitarist Drew Abbott went to play lead for Seger’s Silver Bullet Band, and Jem recorded Luckey Guy in the late 70s.  I did find an early biography of Jem Targal, their lead singer and bassist, on someone’s personal website.  The biography reads a bit strange, almost like it’s Targal speaking in the third person (pardon the pun).  According to the site, Targal was born in Ann Arbor, his father studied and taught at the University of Michigan, and when he was young his father accepted a position at the American University of Istanbul and moved his entire family there: ”There were seven families, all related, living in the house together.  Targal’s grandfather, a retired general, was there.  So, too, was Targal’s uncles.  One had been the head of NATO forces for seveal years; the other uncle was a professional wrestler.”  Sounds like a trip, man.  His family moved back to the Detroit area in 1951 and eventually many years later he met Abbott at Oakland Community College in a speed reading class.  Abbott taught Targal the bass and they formed several groups, met their drummer Jim Craig, a solid powerful drummer, and came up with the name the Third Power in the van on the way to their first show together at a club called the Fifth Dimension (a popular venue that had featured Hendrix and the Yardbirds).  Power trio…trio…third…third…power…like to the third power, man…get it?  The band moved into a farmhouse on Haggarty road, between 12 and 13 mile roads.  They were known for having massive parties at their place where rock icons like Rod Stewart and Badfinger would hang out.  The band kept playing around and became very popular in the Detroit area, playing shows with local acts like the Rationals, Seger, and the MC 5.  They signed with Vanguard, who also featured another Detroit act of the era the Frost, in 1969.  The album was produced by poet and blues scholar Sam Charters and came out in 1970.

I almost shit my pants when I saw it in the stack at Encore.  They pile up their new arrivals on the floor against the bins, in front of the register.  I was in there a few days prior to finding it and noticed that they had a massive pile of new arrivals and quickly paid for whatever I had gone in there to find, so as not to be tempted by whatever was in the new stacks.  A few days later I was walking in the neighborhood and decided to go back to see what was left in that pile, and there it was, perfect, in the shrink, bronze Vanguard label.  I bought that and Grant Green’s Alive! for $30 and the dude working there said bye to me using my name off of my credit card.  Respect, mon.  Irie!  I got it for $20; the price guide says $30 mint, but Popsike lists anywhere from $50 to $250 previously on EBay. 

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by Cousin Geoff

Reissues are generally not my thing, I’d rather search for the original.  It kind of feels like cheating, and it’s nowhere near the thrill of playing the real deal.  That being said, there is no original album for Fugi’s Mary, Don’t Take Me On No Bad Trip.  Tough City reissued this unreleased acid-funk record in 1996 from Detroiter Ellington Jordan, AKA Fugi, originally meant to be put out by Chess’s Cadet label in 1968, but deemed too trippy for them.  When I came across this, not only was I put off by the fact that it was a reissue, but the cover was terrible.  It looked like a late 1990s Cash Money rap album.  But the writing on the cover was more than enough to convice me:

“From The Vaults of CHESS RECORDS…The legendary unreleased album by the blackballed acid-funkateer.”  OK - sold.

When I put it on, I was absolutely floored.  This is exactly the type of music I seek out.  And this was, dare I say, better than the Detroit funk I had been listening to - early 70s Funkadelic and Temptations, even Dennis Coffee.  The genre of funk that is uniquely Detroit - psychadelic, rootsy, Hendrix-like, but funk at it’s core.  The first Funkadelic record can’t be touched, but this, if it had come out as planned, might be better.  The thing is, I don’t understand why Cadet didn’t release this in 1968.  Fugi was not some ordinary stoned funk musician trying to peddle an album to a top label.  He was an extremely talented song writer who was good friends with Temptation Eddie Kendrix.  In 1968, in addition to messing around with his own stuff while being backed by the band Black Merda, he wrote songs for Chess.  Fugi rubbed shoulders on a daily with Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf, Donny Hathaway, Jimmy Hendrix and Etta James.  In fact, Fugi wrote the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” (his own version is on this album) for Etta James who turned it into a worldwide hit number one hit, selling 8 million copies.

Fugi did release a few 45s, but it is still puzzling why this album was never put out.  I’m fully convinced that he could have become a star, with more albums following this one, plus tours and the whole shot.  As for the excuse that I’ve heard that it was too trippy, Detroit psych-soul-funk was what was hot a few years later, around 1969-1970, with the pair of Westbound Funkadelic albums, and The Temptations Psychedelic Shack album, among others.  And even if that was the case (which it’s not - it’s perfectly put together and more soul-based funk than psych-rock funk), what about the Cadet Concept label?  This was created and put together by Marshall Chess, son of Chess records co-founder Leonard Chess, for the sole purpose of “concept” albums.  Rotary Connection is maybe the closest and best known example, and they were way more out-there and, in my opinion, not nearly as good as Fugi.  This would have been the perfect album to put on this label, and they flat out blew it.

It’s a crying shame that I had never even heard of Fugi until I stumbled upon this album, although I’m sure the crowd of more seasoned deep funk and soul seekers have known about him even before this was released in ’96.  You can pick this up for like 8 bucks at Tuff City, in fact here is their ebay link for this album.  Tuff City has lots more reissues, they’re based out of New York and are definitely worth checking out.

As for the record, it’s just amazingly good.  I would say it’s worth it to invest the $8 to see for yourself.  I’m just sort of pissed that I won’t be able to search for the original, but as long as I have the music, that’s the most important thing!

listen to “Mary, Don’t Take Me On No Bad Trip”:

listen to “I’d Rather Be a Blind Man”

by Cousin Geoff: 

FINALLY! Monday is Opening Day for the Tigers.  How sweet are we going to be this year?  Will this be the most potent offense ever assembled?  Here are some Tigers songs from their championship years to fire you up even more!

I just found this one.  It’s from ‘84, set to the tune of Thriller, by Tom Paul.

listen to Tiger Thriller:

Another from ‘84, it’s Gino Danelli with the song Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now/Tigers.  Stay tuned for another great track by Gino coming up soon about Thomas Hearns.

listen to Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now/Tigers:

Here’s another one I just found, from ‘84, The Sun Messengers - Tiger Dynasty:

Also from ‘84 is the song Bless You Boys, I don’t have it but you can listen here.

Now we go back to ‘68 and the song Go Get ‘em Tigers by Artie Fields, off the Year of The Tiger album.

listen to Go Get ‘em Tigers:

From the Detroit sound label comes the York Mills Trio’s Sockit To ‘Em Tigers

And just for fun, check out 31 game winner and jazz organ hipster Denny McLain, doing the song For Me off his Denny McLain at the Organ LP.  Not bad - what can you play Verlander?

How excited am I?  Let me say that if the Tigers win the World Series this year, I’ll bring back my Todd Jones stache that I had last summer for an hour after I shaved my beard.  I’ll rock it for a week. 

 by Max Conroy:

Until very recently I’ve not really paid much attention to jazz.  As a matter of fact, jazz has almost bothered me for about the past decade.  I used to listen to it back in the day, from about sixteen to nineteen.  Man, reading the Beats and playing the Bird and Diz, that was it.  Also, throwing on 102.1 FM to hear Bob Parlocha, after dropping off my last friend that needed a ride home, for the hazy drive back to the nest was also pretty great.  But I got into rock and roll heavy.  And my girl can’t stand jazz and I am ashamed to say that I kind of didn’t want to hear it if I were to get into it.  NPR also ruined jazz for me for a little while there too.  I know every NPR station is different and some have very well rounded programming, but not the ones that I’ve listened to in the past, 90.5 FM WKAR in East Lansing and 91.5 WBEZ in Chicago.  Both of these stations when not playing classical or the typical syndicated shows like Car Talk, Fresh Air, and All Things Considered, play jazz exclusively.  WBEZ would play like six hours of jazz on a Sunday afternoon, starting at 11 AM, right when I’d want to hear some talk radio or a comedy show.  And they wouldn’t play any of the shit that I’ve been getting into lately at all.

Justin turned me onto Waxpoetics around Christmas time and I’ve devoured the last few issues.  I’ve, as a result, come to the realization that there is more jazz out there than bebop and free jazz.  Soul-jazz and funk-jazz are legitimate categories that I’ve been blind to as a result of my prejudice.  That’s where all the badass samples came from in the heyday of hip-hop.  I had no idea what Blue Note turned into in the late 60s: a jazz label that put out soul and funk records.  I also had no idea that there were people like Eddie Harris out there: check out the article about him in the latest Waxpoetics and also check out Swiss Movement and Silver Cycles, two of his albums.  I read about Blue Note’s Droppin’ Science record somewhere in Waxpoetics, a double record best of Blue Note’s records sampled by hip-hop artists, and ordered a copy.  I’m obsessive when it comes to learning about music, so I’ve been taking some stabs in the dark based on the list of guys on Droppin’ Science in the time that it’s taken to get here.  I found Grant Green’s Alive! at Encore and got a reissue of Lou Donaldson’s Alligator Boogaloo, which the Sugarman Three’s Sugar’s Boogaloo (one of the records that launched Daptone, the first one featuring Gabriel Roth) pays homage to.  Both kick ass to be sure. 

I’m not sure if any of you have seen the Anchorman with Will Farrell, but it illustrates what my thoughts are regarding the flute perfectly.  I tense up whenever I hear a flute on a jazz, soul or funk record no matter how appropriate to the song it seems.  One of the guys on Droppin’ Science that I looked for around town in the past week was Jeremy Steig.  I found a couple of his records at Encore, pulled one up out of the bin and quickly dropped it and piled the records on it hoping no one had seen me even looking at it.  First off, he’s a flautist (I feel strange typing that word); second he looks like a weasely, mustachioed, Yoga instructor.  I’d have to wait to get the comp in the mail to hear this guy.  When I got the record today, I was shocked to hear the hook from the Beastie Boys’ Get It Together and how raw and primal the actual song was, how rock and roll.  Based on the intensity of his playing, he sounds like he could go ten rounds with Hemmingway.

Jeremy Steig’s Howling for Judy from Droppin’ Science, originally off of Wayfaring Stranger/Legwork

Eddie Harris’ I’m Gonna Leave You By Yourself off of Silver Cycle