WFMU's Beware of the Blog

She's Got The Power! Ponderosa Stomp Wrap-Up

In case you missed it, The Ponderosa Stomp threw a doozy of party the other night. It was up at Lincoln Center and everyone was invited. This year the Stomp and the Lincoln Center Out of Doors crew presented possibly their most ambitious and rockin' show yet:  The She's Got The Power! Girl Group Extravaganza--the third year up at Damrosch Park and the third year we were lucky enough to be able to be there and broadcast it.

A brief recap for those that are joining us late:

The Mystic Knights of the Mau Maus aka The Ponderosa Stomp are on a mission that cuts to the core of American musical history: to recognize and celebrate the unsung heroes of swamp, pop, jazz, country, soul, blues, rock & roll and to salute its living architects. Through oral histories, conferences and performances, they pool their knowledge and expertise with other like-minded non-profits and as a result our country's musical heritage has a chance of being recorded accurately. What separates this 501 © 3 organization from others is that the Stomp brings on the fun like Godzilla in hot pants.

The Ramones' Last Stand or Somebody Put Something In My Drink And It's Steel Reserve High Gravity Lager

It was 1995 and the world famous Ramones were in their Snow White Meets the Three Stooges phase of their career. Soon they would retire to die and get rich (in that order) but first they had some important business to take care of.
 
After the Phil Spector-produced End of the Century LP tanked in 1980, the Ramones resigned themselves to gigging at small to medium-sized establishments via Eisenhower's renowned series of interstate highways. This was ideal for Ramones fans but probably not so ideal for the Ramones. Cramped into a fetid van, they soldiered on, stealing each others girlfriends, eating crummy food and generally hating each other. This went on for sixteen years.
 
My first Ramones show was at a club called Toad's Place in New Haven, Connecticut in the fall of '83. I got there early to get tickets and caught the band as they drove up to the front door in their jail on wheels. I was immediately impressed with their Beatles-like efficiency. Johnny was the first to get out (he was riding shotgun) and the other Ramones followed suit. With matching leather jackets, black jeans and even matching socks they slunk into the club in single line formation. They looked miserable, like guys waking up for a 5am shift at the shellac factory.

That night was nothing less than the greatest goddamn punk rock show I had ever seen. Richie was the new drummer and he was fine even if Marky says that he had trouble hitting the 8th notes on the high hat. They had a very rocking groove at that point and the showmanship was on par with JB at the Apollo. The minimal coordinated stage moves were as genius-like as their songs. At designated times Johnny and Dee Dee stepped up on milk crate-sized risers (was it after the drum intro to Rock and Roll High School?) and then joylessly stepped down again at the exact same time a few songs later. Not once did any of the four Ramones look at each other or even glance back at the equipment--they elevated being miserable to an art form all while entertaining the hell out of the crowd.
 
They also had recently acquired a fan base of hard-core kids who worshipped them like Sammy worshipped Frank. They were tough looking freaks and the Ramones gamely accepted their slamdancing shenanigans. The front of the stage usually looked like a scene out of the Quincy punk rock episode--colored mohawks, bodies flying akimbo and everyone generally having a non-violent, violent-looking good time. I had a feeling that almost thirty years later I'd wistfully recount on some soon-to-be-invented computer-like worldwide forum how I got all banged up in the pit that September night and I'm here to say I that I did and it was fine. I even lost my glasses at one point and didn't care. (They were eventually located after the show when a skinhead walked by wearing them, laughing hysterically.)

I saw The Ramones maybe a dozen more times mostly at L'amour's (The Rock Capitol of Brooklyn) and at the Ritz. They put on tremendous shows and usually kept the crappy new material to a minimum which is all you can really ask for in an oldies band. I got better at working the pit without getting killed--keep your arms up and if you act nuts they'll stay away from you (but stay away from real nuts cause they really are nuts). I always figured out a way to maneuver to the left side of the stage just in time for Johnny's sole guitar lead of the evening on California Sun.

I had enough by the 1989 Irving Plaza New Year's Eve show--the performances were gradually starting to suck and the crowd was showing up with fireworks. It was a great ride but I was done with the whole dumb scene.

Seven years later when the Ramones were retiring for the 143rd time I was talked into seeing one of their last shows at the Count Basie Theater in Red Bank, New Jersey by my pals John From Mental Decay and his wife Wendy (who some Music To Spazz By listeners might remember as hosting the Name That Dah game show segments of my show every Thursday evening at ten). Well, the Ramones were terrible. They played way too fast with no swing at all and with the ten sonic tons of reverb on Joey's ever-weakening vocals I couldn't tell one song from another. The crowd had stopped throwing fireworks but it was too late. The Ramones weren't even phoning it in--they were faxing it. They performed about fifty more shows that year and then broke up amongst dubious hoopla.

It's only recently that I discovered the late Ramones period Moment of Greatness. Following in the rich legacy of The Who's Great Shakes commercial and scores of rock 'n' roll Coca-Cola jingles, the Ramones were given one last chance to to knock not one, but three killer songs out of the park. This opportunity came in the form of beer jingles. The way Joey leans into these lyrics is incredible--he's selling this beer like it was the most important thing on earth and maybe it was.

With its 6.0-8.1% alcohol content, Steel Reserve High Gravity Lager is some deadly fluid. It tastes like cross between swill and horse piss but I guess somebody's gotta drink it. I'm glad the High Gravity Lager people stumbled upon the Ramones when they were sorting through affordable b-listers that could rise to the challenge of recording a classy commercial. Thank you Steel Reserve High Gravity Lager for giving my favorite band one last chance to shine.

Fill My Cup

Gimme My Steel Reserve

High Gravity Lager

Ronnie James Dio: The Early Years

Novelty records, like everything else, reside somewhere between Heaven and Hell. For 67 years Ronnie James Dio resided there as well.

Early in his musical career the recently departed Ronald James Padavona of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, dwelled in the shadows of the greasy R&B/ white vocal group sound. Before Dio, Elf, Rainbow and Black Sabbath ruled the pimpled Earth, there trod The Vegas Kings, Ronnie & The Rumblers, Ronnie & The Red Caps and finally Ronnie Dio & the Prophets. Dio's various ensembles recorded singles on a variety of labels along with a live LP recorded at a Domino's Restaurant in upstate New York (intriguingly titled "Dio At Domino's"). Dio's early material ranged from Schlub Dion (Swingin' Street) to the percolating Love Pains, where Dio digs down deep into his Inner Anka. On the plaintive and rockin' Everybody's Got A Dance To Do, Dio checks dance crazes like The Twist, The Fish and The Watusi along with shout-outs to fellow hipsters Chubby Checker, Bobby Rydell, The Isleys, Dee Dee (Sharp), James Brown and Little Eva. Dio's take on Great Balls of Fire is surprisingly tepid however Blue Days from the live pizza place LP ranks as some truly swingin' fare. Many of these early sides serve Dio's legacy well, long before the wagging of the malocchia/mano cornuto hands, before the poodle do, before the dubious and ultimately triumphant days of shemping for Sabbath.

My favorite early Dio romp is his loopy take on Love Potion No. 9. Despite mangling  the lyrics (seemingly from memory), Dio hits all the designated marks that firmly plant this 45 into an inky novelty purgatory. Spoken intro, cappy old Madame Rue voice, pouring and bubbling sound effects--Dio catapults to musical greatness in anticipation of his non-ducktail years to come.

St. Louis Zoological Garden

COLOR, COMEDY AND CHIMPANZEES is the order of the summer day at the St. Louis Zoo's famous Chimpanzee Show. Here's part of the chimpanzee crew aboard the float that circles the stage at the start of this fast-paced, hilarious show.

Roy Orbison Night

Tomorrow is non-Million Dollar Quartet member Roy Orbison's seventy-fourth birthday. Roy was a hell of a singer (among many other accomplishments) and he put on killer live shows until the end. A huge talent, but you knew that.

Tonight you can celebrate The Big O by attending Herschel Greer Stadium where the Nashville Sounds are set to square off against the Oklahoma City Redhawks. Roy's widow will toss out the first pitch and the first 1.000 fans through the turnstiles will receive free Roy sunglasses and a case of unrequited heartache. It's also Taco Bell Throwback Thursday--discounts on concessions and the team will be suited up in retro 1980s drag.

We're really weird about honoring our departed rock & roll legends. Elvis gets the Cirque du Soleil dancers and ol' Roy winds up second fiddle to a bowl of $2 nachos. And Pete Puma in shades.

Happy Birthday Roy!

Hey Miss Fannie

More Dragnet Haikus

Wednesday June Fifteenth
The boss is Cap'n Hugh Brown
Partner's Bill Gannon

Twelve dollars a month
Goes to widows and orphans
That's what the job's worth

Hand me my timer
Yes Joe, that's an egg timer
Now hand it to me

A kid with a knife
Or two pill-heads on a spree
With nothing to lose

Indian wrestle
Your conscience on your own time
We need that name now

Two bourbons for us
And then there's the young lady
Make her happy too

Happy Easter!

The Joe E. Ross Scene From Slumber Party '57

Ooh! Ooh! Ever wonder what it would look like if Joe E. Ross reprised his Gunther Toody act from Car 54 in an unfunny soft-core comedy from the 70s? For today's rainy Tuesday matinee we have a clip from Debra Winger's debut vehicle Slumber Party '57.

Now go about your day like you didn't see this.

You Could Be Swinging On A Star

The Adam-12 Fan Fiction Contest

Fan Fiction, aside from an ingredients panel, is the most marginal of literary genres. Since the 17th century when Cervantes' Don Quixote was sabotaged by amateur scribblers, Fan Fiction throughout the ages has clung to the underbelly of good writing like barnacles on the Starship Enterprise.

Last month I was challenged by Music To Spazz By Jingle Producer Nutley Sam Elwitt to partake in a literary joust of the schlubbiest kind: an Adam-12 Fan Fiction Contest. Adam-12 Fan Fiction really does exist and it's serious business. An unsavory bet was proposed wherein the loser had to do something so stupid it cannot even be mentioned on the pages of this blog.

Impartial arbiter WFMU air personality Gaylord Fields was chosen to judge the idiotic proceedings and the contest was under way. Two stories were submitted to Gaylord on New Year's Eve: Nutley Sam's Log #1262: The Incident and my Thank You Officer Malloy. The authors of the pieces were not divulged at the time.

Last Thursday night I was handed a stunning and unexpected victory in the final hour of my radio show. I was fully expecting Nutley Sam's adventure to cop the prize but as Gaylord later elaborated, "Yes, it goes without saying that both stories accomplished perfectly what they aimed for -- in Sam's case it was intrigue and excitement mixed with camaraderie; in Dave's it was stultifying ennui and torpor . . . I was looking for the story that most gave me the Adam-12 experience . . . because [Thank You Officer Malloy] started off and went flat it reminded me exactly of an Adam-12 episode"

Here then are the entries in the contest; the winning story and its worthy runner-up. May Jack Webb have mercy on our souls.

Voice Throwin' Blues

On June 14, 1929 in Richmond, Indiana, Walter "Buddy Boy" Hawkins recorded the first, best and possibly only ventriloquist blues song.

Voice Throwin' Blues

Dave the Spazz's Top 16 or 17 Live Shows of 2009

Lots of rockin' went on in 2009. Here's an a list of some fun shows I was lucky enough to catch (in no particular order):

1. Lone Wolves, Hank's Saloon, Brooklyn
2. Ponderosa Stomp, New Orleans (too many amazing acts to mention)
3. School of Rock WFMU Benefits, Asbury Lanes, NJ, BB Kings, NYC
4. The Mummies & The Back C.C.'s, Maxwells, NJ & Southpaw, Brooklyn
5. Wooly Weekend Festival, Montreal, QC featuring The Alarm Clocks, ? and the Mysterians, The Flakes, The A-Bones and more.
6. Brooklyn Soul Festival, Bell House, featuring Maxine Brown, Otis Clay, Hermon Hitson, Roscoe Robinson and Barbara Lynn
7. Ponderosa Stomp live WFMU broadcasts: Soul Night (Bo-Keys, Harvey Scales, William Bell, The Bobbettes) and Rockabilly Night (Carl Mann, The Collins Kids, Joe Clay), plus the Wardell Quezergue Tribute Show featuring Mac Rebennack, The Dixie Cups, Robert Parker, Jean Knight, Dorothy Moore, Tammy Lynn, Tony Owens, Zigaboo Modeliste, Michael Hurtt, with a 10 piece orchestra conducted by Wardell Quezerque(!), Lincoln Center, NYC
8. Black Lips, All Mighty Defenders, Demon Claws, Bloodshot Bill, Le Studio, Montreal, QC
9. The Trashmen, WFMU Record Fair, NYC
10. The Piggies, Harefield Road, Brooklyn (catch their act at the Lakeside Lounge this Saturday December 26th)
11. Hank Williams, Jr., XM-Sirius concert, NYC (anyone tape this thing?)
12. Devo, Irving Plaza, NYC
13. The Mighty Hannibal, The Highline, NYC
14. The Flamin' Groovies, The A-Bones, The Underthings, Southpaw, Brooklyn
15. The Moto-Gators, Union Pool, Brooklyn
16. Beach Boys, Ocean Grove, NJ

To check out other WFMU DJ year end lists click here

Kidnapping Frank Sinatra, Jr.

"Do you know why the kidnappers let Junior go? Because they heard him humming in the trunk."

                -Don Rickles

On December 8, 1963, while Sammy Davis, Jr. was celebrating his 38th birthday on the set of Robin and the 7 Hoods, Frank Sinatra, Jr. was abducted at gunpoint from his hotel room at Harrah's Lake Tahoe. Amateur crook Barry Keenan, 23, and his high school pal Joe Amsler cooked up the crackpot scheme with "seed money" from fellow alumni Dean Torrence of Jan and Dean. Another dubious accomplice, John Irwin, 42, was hired to negotiate the ransom solely for his gravelly, gangster-like voice. Tossed in the trunk of a white Impala, Junior was transported across the snowy state lines to a rented cottage in Canoga Park, LA for safekeeping. A series of eight phone calls were exchanged between the kidnappers and Frank, Sr., each one on a different pay phone which required The Chairman to carry a roll of dimes with him at all times. (This became a lifelong habit and he was eventually buried with a roll of dimes in his jacket pocket.) Frank offered a million dollars for the safe return of his son. The kidnappers held their ground and demanded $240,000 and a deal was struck. The ransom was dropped at a gas station in Carson City, Nevada and Frankie was duly deposited at a Mulholland Drive overpass, a short walk from his mother's house in Bel Air. Junior was safe, the kidnappers got away with it and Frank, Sr. ever-slightly unclenched his grip on the roll of dimes.

Then it all went to heck. The next day Keenan blabbed to his brother in San Diego about the perfect crime and the authorities were summoned. Keenan, Amsler and Irwin were apprehended, convicted and each served brief prison sentences. (Torrence wasn't charged.) It was at the trial where celebrity defense attorney Gladys Towles Root branded Frank, Jr. with the Mark of The Loser forever when she suggested that he faked his own kidnapping for publicity purposes. Naturally, this claim was dismissed yet the stink of the accusation clung to and has defined Junior's legacy for the past forty-six years.

At this point, writing and recording the theme to The Beach Girls and the Monster (1965) was actually a step up.

Frank Sinatra, Jr. Beach Girls and the Monster

Great Men Repeat Themselves

 

Homer and Jethro  Great Men Repeat Themselves

Edward G. Monkeyman

Everyone has that moment in life when they wonder why they're walking around in a monkey suit. For legendary actor Edward G. Robinson that epiphany came in 1966 while shooting a test for The Planet of the Apes movie. Good Serling script, good cast but Robinson didn't really need the paycheck so why the hell was he making it? After a costly divorce in '56, Eddie made a killing in the art collecting racket and walking around choking on orangutan hairs was obviously for schmucks. Before Robinson turned in his ape suit he filmed one makeup test scene with Charlton Heston, James Brolin and Linda Harrison. In the finished movie, Harrison was demoted from smart chimp Zira to grunting sexpot Nova (NO-VA!) and Brolin was replaced by the monkeyriffic Roddy McDowell. The role of the wise orangutan Dr. Zaius was given to Shakespearean actor Maurice Evans who was surprisingly all too eager to don the furry jumpsuit.

Captured for posterity for Edward G. Robinson completists and Planet of the Apes perverts alike, here's the makeup test reel that was shot before Robinson bailed. It's about as dull as an Adam-12 chase scene but at least it's got a certain monkey je ne sais quoi about it. The clip begins with a storyboard pitch to the Fox studio gorillas narrated by all-purpose cult hero Paul Frees. Looks like it's gonna be a good Tuesday.

A Few Pointers From Ted Williams

Ted Williams was indisputably the greatest hitter in the game of baseball. The last player in MLB to bat over .400 in a single season (.406 in 1941), he was a two time American League MVP winner and still holds the highest career batting average of anyone with 500 or more home runs. Over the course of two decades Williams quietly advanced to the top of his profession earning accolades from his peers on and off the field.

Red Sox fans applauded their hero's multi-tiered success but on occasion turned on the thin-skinned slugger, booing and heckling him at the slightest sign of weakness. This bugged the hell out of Williams and he would mutter under his breath and eventually stop tipping his cap to these idiots. What the hell was this all about? Nobody ever booed Hoot Gibson or John Wayne. What kind of world had he landed in? Maybe a .344 career batting average might be better appreciated somewhere else. Perhaps in the future, away from the drooling slobs of Fenway Park, there dwelt an appreciative civilization where attaining everlasting life and eternal gratitude is only slightly more complicated than joining Netflix. Pumped up with steroids to end all steroids, a sports legend could roam the earth like a king--living, loving and playing ball with only the finest merchandising deals laid like rose petals at his frozen cleats. Ted squinted into the left field bleachers and with the saint-like fortitude that he often brought to the plate, sucked in his breath and waited.

Adam-12 Haikus

Adam-12 haikus
Not as good as Dragnet ones
Still equally dumb

First thing that you learn
Pig is a three letter word
You can spell it out

Arriving on scene
A fight group with chains and knives
Requesting backup

You can arrest them
And you can make them like you
We call it technique

Third day on the job
After the morning roll call
Reed dented the car

Pete grew a mustache
Wanted to try something new
Not a good idea

Rotten Code 7
Robbery at Duke's Cafe
Lunch will have to wait

Sammy Davis, Jr. is Your Vehicle

Randell & Schippers

You never forget the first time you see Randell & Schippers. Good afternoon. My name is Dave and I am a Randell & Schippers addict. I greet you all today with the sincere wish that you might either save me or come along and join my warped cause.

For many (including myself) the introduction into the unique world of Denny Randell and Biddy Schippers came last week about six and a half hours in to the Jerry Lewis Telethon. Slamming out hit after self-penned hit in a record seven minutes, Randell, Schippers and their potrzebie musical co-horts left me slack-jawed, awestruck and unable to function rationally in normal society. They would've also stolen the whole damn show if Jerry didn't start making erection jokes with Charo. That's cheating.

The Clodhoppers and The Dixie Entertainers

Hailing from Gwinnett County, Georgia, fiddler Earl Johnson got the bug in his ear early on for raucous string band noise. He practiced furiously with his brothers Ester on guitar and Albert on banjo until 1923 when they both succumbed to an epidemic. In 1924 Earl joined Fiddlin' John Carson's Virginia Reelers and Arthur Tanner's Dixie String Band where he fine-tuned his fiddling prowess on stage and street.

After nailing the Georgia state fiddle championship in 1926, Earl cut a mess of sides for the Okeh label with his newly formed Dixie Entertainers. In 1927 he ditched the Entertainers and recorded with his new combo the Clodhoppers but by 1928 he was back with the Entertainers and continued with them until his final record in 1931 (Close Your Bright Eyes). Earl continued to perform right up until May 24,1965 where he wowed the populous at a fiddlers' convention in Stone Mountain, Georgia before promptly dropping dead.

Decades later, the question still remains: who rocked out harder--The Clodhoppers or the Dixie Entertainers?

The Clodhoppers gave us All Night Long which has to be the Louie Louie of miserable marriage songs. The Entertainers' I'm Satisfied gives Night a drunken run for the money with its loopy observations on domestic life that play out like a hillbilly version of The Lockhorns. Both are total liquored-up party songs that celebrate the terribleness of it all.

Both also have background vocals that sound like a goat that's been strapped to a Spook-a-Rama funhouse car and then sent spiraling off into mid-town traffic. I don't know who this little lady is that's responsible for these falsetto-like deeds but Earl had the good sense to bring her in on both of these sessions and for that we will fire up the mp3 player and blast his music on this late summer afternoon.

I'm Satisfied   Earl Johnson's Dixie Entertainers
recorded February 21, 1927 in NYC
All Night Long   Earl Johnson's Clodhoppers
recorded October 7, 1927 in Atlanta, GA