Tuesday Tuneage
Various Artists - "Buy The World A Coke"
1971

On first viewing, I think I got the ending of Mad Men wrong. I thought after Don hugged Leonard - the not-stunningly-handsome, not-cool Dad stuck in a boring office job and an afterthought with his family (an average Don with zero moxie) - he embraced the om-om-om of the counterculture as the only thing keeping him from going off on a dismal, despaired, life-ruining bender. Peggy had told him he'd never get to work on Coke, and the last we saw of her she was intensely typing. Being a sucker for an image of a hard-working writer hammering out work, I figured she was typing up the script of the Coke ad that co-opted the very new age beliefs that Don had adopted.

But upon discussion with my brother and reading Meredith Blake's (they are always great) episode recap in the Los Angeles Times, it appears that Don was simply going with the flow at Big Sur in order to cunningly find a way to work on Coke after all. That is a better explanation of the smile that appears on his face at the end of the episode: He has found a way to turn this hippie-commune nightmare; where he is abandonded by the only person who is tied to his Dick Whitman past, a person he genuinely tried to help, into an iconic ad. Always the ad man, that Draper.

During one of its revivals on TV years ago, a friend said that the "Buy The World A Coke" song is great. I disagreed, with that weary purist mentality that something appearing in a commercial is automatically not "real" and hence inferior. Then after hearing it again with fresh ears and an open mind, I agreed with him. It is a great song. Turns out it was written in part by the same guys who wrote The Hollies hit "Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress" and (even better) the "If You've Got The Time" jingle for Miller Beer.

Hats off to all the folks behind Mad Men, it was quite the run. For a few weeks a year, that Sunday-night-creep, I-don't-want-to-go-to-school feeling was banished. On a kinda-related note, I saw an Alison Brie doppelganger in south Minneapolis last week. Same walk, same legs that we see Trudy Campbell sporting as she gets on the Learjet. Yessir.

Tuesday Tuneage
Various Artists - Melrose Place: The Music
1994

Polygraph Operator: Did Kimberly steal Jo's baby?
Jerry: I don't know.
Polygraph Operator: Did Billy sleep with Alison's best friend?
Jerry: I don't know.
Polygraph Operator: Did Jane's fiance kidnap Sydney and take her to Las Vegas? And if so, did she enjoy it?
Jerry: I don't know.
Polygraph Operator: Did Jane sleep with Michael again?
Jerry: Yes! That stupid idiot! He left her for Kimberly, he slept with her sister! He tricked her into giving him half her business, and then she goes ahead and sleeps with him again! I mean she's crazy! How could she do something like that? Oh that Jane, she makes me so mad!
  - Seinfeld

Of course I watched Melrose Place. It was quite a bit of fun there for a few years and the first half of its run was on while I was working some soul-draining corporate job and any escapism on the tube at night was a welcome relief. I wish I could say I bought Melrose Place: The Music used at Let It Be during one of my runs there late mornings while on the (morning break) lam from the Young-Quinlan Building, but the sticker on my jewel case indicates it was bought used at the Electric Fetus in the late nineties, when I was free. I'm sure I bought it almost solely for the Paul Westerberg track that ends it. A few weeks ago on an impulse, I put this album on my phone and gave it a full listen. Verdict:

Aimee Mann, "That's Just What You Are" - A perfect pop gem makes a heady leadoff track. Prior to this song being on the radio, I was vaguely aware of Mann and this one burned a way straight to my heart. For some bizarre reason, a coworker at the time was slightly offended that Mann had albums titled Whatever and I'm With Stupid, but those just seal the deal between her and Generation X.

Urge Overkill, "Back On Me" - This song is certainly solid, though it doesn't have the same exuberance as songs like "Sister Havana" and "Postive Bleeding". These tunes were all on their Saturation album. So, while Urge Overill didn't put one of their better songs on this soundtrack, they still managed to shill for their fan club in the liner notes! Love that.

Sam Phillips, "Baby I Can't Please You" - Phillips started out as a Christian rocker. A wag decades ago described Christian rock as simply "taking pop songs and inserting 'Jesus' where 'baby' normally goes." Good thing Phillips moved into the secular, so this song wasn't "Jesus I Can't Please You". I could listen to the percussion on this one all day long, plus it makes me want to read Peter Guralnick's "Sam Phillips Talking". (Different person, but still great art.)

Dinosaur Jr, "Blah" - The ultimate slacker rock, naming your song "Blah". The recurring guitar riff is intriguing, plus J Mascis sounds like he's trying to emote or somesuch. That's gotta count for something. (Or maybe he's just riffing on he and his band's disdain for punctuation.)

Frente!, "Ordinary Angels" - They/she/whoever have an exclamation point on their name. Mr. Lippman would not approve.

Annie Lennox, "Precious" - She's got great pipes, but this one is overproduced and it bores me.

Divinyls, "I'm Jealous" - Holy moly, I'm glad I dug this album out of the archives. While the guitars on this alone are worth the price of admission, this is also a perfectly produced psychodrama worthy of Roy Orbison.

Seed, "Kids … This is Fabulon" - Dumb band name. Dumb song name. Interesting Hammond B-3 though … who are these guys again? They certainly aren't The Seeds, those American heroes who were so punk that they earned the epitaph: "Two great chords - five great albums!" The Trouser Press Guide To '90s Rock describes Seed's sound as "a yeoman's mish-mash of 60's effluvia, '70s genericsm, '80s heartland-grunge and '90s faux-funk weirdness." It also says they have another song that "falls somewhere between Blind Melon and Boston." Wish THAT one had been on this album.

Letters To Cleo, "Here And Now" - Admit it -  the first time this song aired on your favorite alternative rock station, your immediate reaction was: "How are Beavis and Butt-head going to react to this one?"

James, "How Was It For You" - Not as annoying as their hit "Laid" (the one where the singer shrieks like he's doing a show tune), which still plagues the Jack FM playlist. This one is utterly devoid of soul or grit. Sounds like rock, but it ain't rock 'n' roll. A typical mid-nineties Brit-dork mediocrity that was of course embraced in certain Anglophile circles.

Paul Westerberg, "A Star Is Bored" - Typical Westerberg: He writes an acoustic masterpiece, records it in his Minneapolis basement, then mails it to his producer's house in Los Angeles for him to mix and add to the gorgeous backing vocals. Also Westerbergian: He makes you wonder what exactly is going on with the lyric's protagonist, then slaps a classic Paul Pun on the song title/chorus. A fitting closer to an album I had mostly forgotten and dismissed ("oh yeah, that's the one with that great Westerberg song on it"). This album states the case for second chances everywhere.

Tuesday Tuneage
Sir Lord Baltimore - "Helium Head (I Got A Love)"
1970

PART I: POSITIVELY 34TH STREET

see, this is how it's playing
everybody's going on about
all these sincere, earnest scams
in music, but I don't want no
folk revival, bluegrass gives me
the creeps. Trying to enjoy a book at
the coffee shop, the PA is playing
some hoary crap from youngsters
 - banjos and stringed instruments without
   amplification and some twentysomething
   bum trying to sound old -

And there's no relief at home,
sheesh I'm trying to focus on this
hockey game or at least on Kathryn Tappen
(woo-woo) and
somebody on Twitter
was going on about John Hiatt.
Who has always been a
Grade-A Bore, and it all piles up and it
all grates and I just want to focus,
get a clear head without all this
earnest, sincere music boring the daylights
out of me so the only known answer/cure involves:
A) headphones, B) Tullamore Dew, and
3) metal metal metal.

PART II: TRY IT

Electric guitars go from ear to ear like in "Whole Lotta Love." A singer who sounds insincere as hell (yeah!), then some monk-drone sounds like the Yardbirds' "Still I'm Sad" but not weighing anything down. More guitar freneticism. Crazyman lead singer goes on about how he's got a love, more monk sounds (did these guys ever correspond with Uriah Heep?) and bashing and a shriek and a freakout akin to the Yardbirds (them again) in "I'm a Man". John Fucking Hiatt you say? I'll take a handshake of reds instead, please.

Tuesday Tuneage

Led Zeppelin - "Immigrant Song"

1970

Walhalla

again ascend into the heavens

again get lost in words

again write, don't speak

again notebook, again pen

Tuesday Tuneage
Donnie Iris - "Love Is Like A Rock"
1982

"Love Is Like A Rock" is a gem that's almost as awe-inducing as Donnie Iris's "Ah Leah!" from the prior year, it strips down that single's bubblegum-metal into a simple-yet-tasty mix of chants, disco/metal guitar riffing, and a killer chorus. The background singers feat of pulling off multiple miracles in this one - to wit: 1) shouting "hey!", 2) starting the chorus, 3) sliding into "ahhhhhh…" mode, and 4) gleefully finishing the chorus - is in every way remarkable. Plus there's a drum break for you to bust moves to. The tune ends in an extended mix that was likely just put together by producer/keyboardist Mark Avsec using loops. ("You can leave, guys. See you at the bar in an hour.") Being a Bubblegum Statement of Purpose, it has no "meaning" - you could argues it's a lessons-not-learned-from-authority-figures followup to The Who's "The Real Me" - but mentally I keep trying to tie it to the wise Finnish proverb that states: "Love Is A Potato."

Tuesday Tuneage
Michael Jackson - “Billie Jean”
1982

Distractions can stop a writing habit cold. In my case recently it was Saturdays delayed with sports; there was the NCHC tourney, then the NCAA regionals, then the hoops semis, all weaved into this was a desire to go for a long walk late Saturday afternoons because Sundays were similarly sports-booked and a weekend walk clears the mind so effectively. So out the window went the 6 pm scotch-and-writing that is the crucial approach shot to get Tuesday Tuneage done. In fact, many times ninety percent of the work is complete in that late afternoon/early eve rush before hockey faces off on Saturday night, then left for final clean-up and posting on Tuesday.

So last week, I thought hey I’ll just take the laptop to the coffee shop Tuesday afternoon, load up on caffeine, and hammer out a Tuesday Tuneage in ninety minutes or so. That’s how I started them in the early days five years ago. But then on Tuesday, some utility workers outside of my building started work on replacing a telephone poll and woke me up with truck-beeping about ninety minutes before I normally wake up. And I am not a morning person, so early rising does not mean an early mental start. When the utility guys ended up disconnecting the electricity for what they said would be two hours, I figured I'd walk over to Our Diner on 36th and Bryant and get a huge ol’ breakfast prior to heading over to the coffee shop, and set things in place for what could be quality time with my laptop. At the coffee shop I decided to read first to get my mind loosened up. I was enjoying a great science fiction story on my phone, when some gal took a table a couple of down from mine with her two little kids. Needless to say these kids were noisy. They cried, they whined, they demanded. For the life of me, I don’t understand why people feel the need to be Cool Parents and take their kids to the neighborhood coffee shop. Take your little noisemakers to McDonald’s where they belong. Why ruin our workplace?

So I pounded my coffee, booked it home, finished that short story on my phone, and took a nap to try to claim back some of the sleep that had been taken from me that morning. Then it was time for a workout (breakfast was about 900 calories, oof), time to read the paper, time for dinner, time to watch hockey, time to watch The Sopranos. And that was Tuesday.

I play a system. The system dictates that time spent on Tuesdays and Saturdays is when these blog posts get written. When the system is disrupted, I cannot adapt quickly.

Because even if things are in place to finish Tuesday Tuneage at the coffee shop, The System applies in micro also. I must set quite the scene when I approach the little table at the local coffee shop. First, I make sure the table is set so the wide side faces me and not the short side. This is so that if I am typing notes, there is room for my notebook to sit next to the laptop while also leaving room for the all-important mug of coffee. Then hang my jacket on the other chair, make sure the collar isn’t sticking up in some funny fashion and place my UND hockey hat on the table so that the brim is facing out towards the public. Get all the necessary tools out of the bookbag, then make sure the bookbag sits on the other chair comfy and isn’t about to tip over. Then the chair I sit in has got to be right. Sure, they all look the same but some of them wobble and (worse) some of them have flat backs rather than the curved ones where my back fits comfy into. Hard to concentrate when I’m constantly distracted by worries of back pain. After all this, I can sit down to work on writing.

What does any of this have to do with “Billie Jean”? Well it goes back to a bit from the early days of David Letterman’s Late Night show on NBC. There was a claim floating about that in the song's chorus it sounds like Michael Jackson sings “that chair is not my son.” So Letterman played a clip of the song, and his crew so deliberately overdubbed an announcer voice saying “CHAIR” into the chorus it was so dumb it was hilarious. Every time I hear “Billie Jean” on Jack FM (which is frequently, which is great, because it is an awesome, timeless song), in my mind at some point I sing “CHAIR”. And for me to write effectively, chairs everywhere - literal ones, figurative ones - must be in their correct places. And that is (one of the many reasons) why there hasn’t been a Tuesday Tuneage in three weeks.

Tuesday Tuneage
The J. Geils Band - "Come Back"
1980

On their way from a gallant attempt at being America's Stones - funny, swaggering, revivalists of classic blues, R&B, and soul  - to not-quite new wave (but certainly not the blues) hitmakers extraordinaire (shorthand: from guitars and harp to synths and guitars), The J. Geils Band released the Love Stinks album which points both forward and back.

"Come Back" is a dance marvel, co-writer Seth Justman does mainstream synth work up there with seventies masters Pete Townshend and Stevie Wonder, and his production is flawless. When other co-writer Peter Wolf enters the chorus after the instrumental break, the background singers' stuttering is an amazing thing, one of those great rare pop touches. The extended coda makes me think/demand that there be an extended play twelve-inch dance mix out there somewhere. Disco never, ever died. Always remember that.

Tuesday Tuneage
The Hellacopters - "Gimmie Shelter"
1998

Leave it to garage hard rockers The Hellacopters to open their take on "Gimmie Shelter" by sounding as ominous as the original, then throw it into high gear around the 30-second mark and play the hell out of the thing like their Swedish lives depended on it. The punk/metal "speed it up to make it something unique" trick works, much to their credit. They own this one, complete with tough/freakout vocals, Stooges-like piano, frequent pick slides, harmonica wailing at the end, and somewhere in all of it a "Satisfaction" riff as well. Covers of classics don't get much more daring or better than this.

That they tucked it away on a B-side and later on a stuff-that-didn't-make-albums compilation titled Cream Of The Crap! only shows the (earned) arrogance with which the 'Copters carried themselves during their run. The next time that Microsoft anthem  "Start Me Up" pops up on your classic hits station, play this one instead LOUDLY.

Tuesday Tuneage
Uriah Heep - "Bird Of Prey"
1971

Some fifty-cent LPs you regret, most you don't. IT WAS ONLY FIFTY CENTS. Scoring The Best of Uriah Heep at the closeout sale at St. Paul's legendary Root Cellar Records back in '04 was arguably the best Kennedy coin gamble I've ever taken on a slab of vinyl. Uriah Heep was from the same Brit/heavy/metal cloth as Black Sabbath and Deep Purple. Like Sabbath they had some mystic occult mumbo jumbo going on, like Purple they had an organ and over-the-top vocals. Me, I eat this stuff up. Speed it up and substitute a lower-range vocal grumble and you have Screaming Trees, who I also love. Also, with Heep putting short songs on the A-side and longer (but not deeper) songs on the flip, I have almost all the Heep I need* in a single album.

And if you're going to buy The Best of Uriah Heep, you gotta get it on vinyl. The back cover features a handy chart that shows who was in/out of the band during its run. And that was in 1976 - early in Heep's run, it turns out - the folks over at Wikipedia were helpful enough to show in/out to present day. You are forgiven if you mix that chart up with the chart detailing the Lutheran Laestadian Divisions in America.

* "Almost" is the key word here. Weirdly, Uriah Heep's best song by far - "Stealin'" - is not included in this package!

Tuesday Tuneage
Electric Six - "Nuclear War (On The Dance Floor)"
2003

At the end of 1991's Stairway To Hell: The 500 Best Heavy Metal Albums In The Universe, Chuck Eddy posited that a disco-metal fusion was inevitable in the nineties. Among his 25 reasons were Kiss's disco song "I Was Made For Lovin' You" (paired with) Rick James's most metal moment being "Love Gun", Black Sabbath's "Children of the Grave" having the exact same rhythm as Blondie's "Call Me", and Van Halen's "Dance The Night Away" and "Dancing in the Streets." And, he wrote: "In Canada circa 1980, an unjustly noticed pop vanguard starring Loverboy, Bryan Adams, and Aldo Nova took it for granted that metal, disco, and new wave were all gonna be ONE AND THE SAME THING." The conclusion being that not only was disco-metal inevitable, it had been with us all along.

Last decade, Detroit's Electric Six debuted in 2003 with "Danger! High Voltage", the best rock 'n' roll single since "Smells Like Teen Spirit". The album, Fire, was a Revelation (capital "R", New Testament-like). It shares a similar concept to Prince's 1999 album, the lesson seems to be that a nuclear apocalypse is imminent, so let's hit the dance floor and/or sheets. Along with stops at "Taco Bell" and a "Gay Bar" (gays -  along with blacks and Latins - invented disco, and I'm not even going to Wikipedia to confirm this) and a nod to Van Halen's "Panama." Not sure where an extremely pale girl fits in ("She's White" - Detroit bands don't seem afraid of addressing race. See also The Paybacks' "Black Girl" and The Hentchmen's "I'm Through With White Girls", both available on the Sympathetic Sounds of Detroit anthology) but the Six's relentless disco-metal attack pulls it all off seamlessly. Perfect for dance parties in your apartment's living room or getting through a cardio workout. The riffs, beats, jokes, and asides pile up so furiously that there's no conceivable way these guys ever made another album. (They've made many, many more …)

Tuesday Tuneage
The Dead Boys - "Ain't Nothin' To Do"
1977

My social life's a dud, my name is really mud. Another Valentine's Day alone. The plan? Tombstone pizza, TGI Friday's wings (the day deserves no better) from my grocer's freezer, Food Club mixed nuts, Old Dutch cheese popcorn, cans o'beer, Finlandia, hockey game on the tube, and this mix loud on the stereo:

1) Music Machine - "Talk Talk"
2) Tigers of Pan Tang - "Killers"
3) The Stooges - "T.V. Eye"
4) Metallica - "Jump In The Fire"
5) The Dead Boys - "Ain't Nothin' To Do"
6) Nine Inch Nails - "Down In It"
7) Electric Six - "Nuclear War (on the Dance Floor)"
8) Black Sabbath - "Supernaut"
9) Faster Pussycat - "No Room For Emotion"
10) Action Swingers - "Glad To Be Gone"
11) Motorhead - "No Class"
12) The Sex Pistols - "No Feelings"
13) The Rolling Stones - "Paint It, Black"

All served up in the spirit of a certain Thatch comic strip, where a character declared: "It's just not Valentine's Day without chips, dip and a couple King Kans of Schlitz."

Tuesday Tuneage
Streetheart - "Under My Thumb"
1979

Dry funk or ist es Kraftwerk-influenced? Punk-ish vocal or is it Brit-influenced? Mott-like chanting during the chorus, piano fills, weird synth noises that date it, handclaps, garage rock organ. Partially responsible for Loverboy. Long long long guitar solo to remind the boys that this is a rock song yeahhhh, whole shebang saved in end by GNR-anticipating move of whispering a mantra, in this case non-Stones lyrics.

Tuesday Tuneage
Aldo Nova - "Fantasy"
1982

Aldo Nova burst upon/was forced by the Powers That Be upon the scene in 1982 with an AOR gem in "Fantasy":  The tune has a great riff, synths that don't hold the song back, and a decent guitar solo. Problem was, there was a video …

Nova - and I like calling him "Nova", kinda like how when Mr. Carlson is being terse with Dr. Johnny Fever he simply calls him "Fever" - simply looks like a goof while sporting a ridiculous leopard one-piece outfit tucked into boots (needed, a friend once rode in an elevator with him, said he's tiny) and Oasis-brothers-like eyebrows. The beginning is some sort of caper movie, it turns into a performance - Aldo-and-band-rock-a-club! - then has asides where Nova steps out of character, points at the ladies of the night, and informs us they aren't there for true love. (Thanks dude, most of us had been misled to believe such ladies are secretly harboring hearts of gold!) And I don't know if it's the quality of the YouTube video, but I experienced some Fight Club-like editing flash stuff while watching it. I didn't see this video until months after the song raced up the charts, I had been assured during lunch time in high school that it was powerful, powerful stuff. Doh-kay.

I got to see Nova live when he opened for Blue Oyster Cult in West Fargo, North Dakota in September of 1982. He was trying to warm up the crowd and said:

"North Dakota is a great town!"

Years later, I related this tale on an email list (pre-social-media communication thing, tweet me if you want further definition) I was on with some fellow musicheads. One guy chipped in with this Nova onstage quote, also from September of 1982 but this time in Sioux Falls, South Dakota:

"Alright, Sioux City!"

As I theorized at the time of reading that:

Nova said these things as an inside joke with his Canadian bandmate buddies as a way to get some laughs while out on the weary road in heartland America as an opener for an American smart-metal band who was hanging onto its last act of stardom. 

Aldo Nova would go on to co-write the lead track off Blue Oyster Cult's next album, The Revolution By Night. As these things go, that album was also the one that signified the end of BOC's powers.

Tuesday Tuneage
Bill Murray - "Physical"
1982

The YMCA is not my social club. The goal of going there is simple: Get an elliptical workout for thirty minutes with my iPhone blasting some metal; walk on the treadmill for forty minutes while listening to more music; stretch; and then get the hell out of there.

The YMCA is not my social club. I’ve been going there for over twenty years, but have not made friends. The people who work the front desk never fail to be quite friendly. I will give them a smile and a nod, small talk if need be. I'll also sneak a glance at the gal behind the counter that I have a small crush on. But once I get through the turnstile, it’s time to get a workout done so that I can get the hell out of there and back home.

The YMCA is not my social club. I don’t talk with the other members, I don’t bond over exercise. I don’t want to bond over anybody while wearing polyester pants and a ratty teeshirt, while sweaty and out of breath. I may tell another member that the machine is all theirs after cleaning it after my workout, but in most cases a gesture will do.

The YMCA is not my social club. I don’t use the locker room. I walk home and shower there. I can do without the naked men walking around, the naked men applying various lotions and powders to their bodies, the naked men with their wet towels hogging all the stools as if they are setting up an office in the locker room - when the goal of being in the locker room should be to get the hell out as soon as possible. I can do without the seventy-year old man with his compliments, his standing there naked putting his hand on my arm while talking to me like old guys do. I do not want to have lunch with old naked man, despite his friendly invitation. Like I told him, I like to grab lunch alone and read the sports page.

The YMCA is not my social club. I’m just there to listen to metal on my iPhone while working out, looking out the large windows while all the cars try to find parking spots those weeks when lots of folks join between New Year’s Day and Valentine's Day. I’m sure many of these new people end up making friends with other members, the front desk staff, the personal trainers, the janitors. Some of them may even end up having lunch with a naked person that talks to them in the locker room. I just want to make an effort to get healthy, get the hell home, rehydrate, and mark off another appearance that goes towards my health insurance discount.

The YMCA is not my social club. I just go there four times a week.

Tuesday Tuneage
The Rods - “Crank It Up”
1981

The Rods - whose name kinda sounds punk - were obviously nodding to The Ramones on the album cover with the jeans/tees/leather jackets look (except one of the Rods needs to mix in a salad), which makes you think this might be some sort of brilliant early-eighties metal/punk crossover. Instead, The Rods at times simply serve up at-times-punkish metal with absolutely no cleverness. Consider some of the song titles from their self-titled major label debut: "Power Lover", "Hungry For Some Love", "Getting Ready To Rock And Roll", "Rock Hard", "Roll With The Night". And that they would go on to release albums titled Let Them Eat Metal and Heavier Than Thou. Throw in that their frontman was David “Rock” Feinstein, which just might be the greatest nickname in all of, uh, rock, and that all of this was served up with no irony whatsoever, well you just wonder if they were any sort of influence on This Is Spinal Tap.

Like Shooting Star's "Hang On For Your Life", released the same year, The Rods' "Crank It Up" is stripped-down, speeded-up hard rock. It's evidence of how the AOR game had (oh-so-ever-slightly) changed in the early eighties. The rest of the album is weighed down by a lack of energy and lacks the sheer go-for-brokeness of this tune, but don't tell that to The Rods cult. (Wha? Hey I just became aware it also.) This album is going for $26 for a new CD and $24 for a new vinyl LP on Amazon. As one of the true believer Amazon commenters writes: "The Rods have surly (sic) delivered the goods."