My thoughts on pop music and pop culture, plus the weekly playlists from THIS IS ROCK 'N' ROLL RADIO with Dana and Carl (Sunday nights 9 to Midnight Eastern, SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM in Syracuse, sparksyracuse.org). You can support this blog on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/user?u=2449453 Twitter @CafarelliCarl
All editorial content on this blog Copyright Carl Cafarelli (except where noted). All images copyright the respective owners TIP JAR at https://www.paypal.me/CarlCafarelli
Today's gallery collects the covers of a few comic books that mixed reprints with then-new material. It used to be a pretty common practice to fill in the back space of a comic book with something previously-published; before royalty programs were initiated for reprints, these were pages the publisher had already bought and paid for, and certainly no one old enough to have read a story from years before could still be reading these juvenile things, right?
(In the '60s, I started as one of those kids too young to know I was reading something my older siblings may have seen when they were my age. Any comic book story you ain't read is a new story. That adage still applied as I grew to understand a little bit of comics history, and to actively wish to see more comics from the past.)
As always, we'll be sticking exclusively to the '60s-'80s era of acquisition I've established for these galleries. Today's selection includes books I bought new, back issues I acquired after the fact (but within the timeline), and B-stock contraband originally purchased without their covers. As always: These aren't actual photos of comics in my collection. But I did have each and every one of 'em at some point in time.
If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit toCC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.
I compiled a various-artists tribute album called Make Something Happen! A Tribute To The Flashcubes, and it's pretty damned good; you can read about it here and order it here. My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carlairs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming at SPARK streamand on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. You can read about our history here.
This was written a few years back, and it appears as a chapter in my book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1). I wish our stupid world would stop keeping the damned thing relevant.
An infinite number of tracks can each be the greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. It's Elvis Costello's turn today.
ELVIS COSTELLO AND THE ATTRACTIONS: (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding
Written by Nick Lowe
Produced by Nick Lowe
Single [B-side of Nick Lowe's "American Squirm", originally credited to Nick Lowe and his Sound], Radar Records [UK], 1978
There are so many reasons for me to love this song. It was written by the great Nick Lowe, and originally recorded in 1974 by his group Brinsley Schwarz. It was covered by Elvis Costello and the Attractions, whose brilliant rendition was found on their 1979 album Armed Forces, the first record Brenda ever gave to me. Its lyrics are simultaneously hopeful and defiant. A cover by Curtis Stigers appeared on the multimegacolossalsmash soundtrack to The Bodyguard in 1992, providing Lowe with a nice paycheck and some sort of happy ending. Peace. Love. Understanding.
Yet I hate the circumstances that so often prompt me to play it.
The week after 9/11, we didn't play much in the way of hopeful or happy tunes. We were angry and afraid, sad, angry, sad, angry. On that week's edition of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Dana and I opened the show with "I Stand Tall" by the Dictators, and proceeded to seek catharsis through music. For the week after that, we received a request from our pal Liz Belmont in New York City, as she dealt with the day-to-day post-9/11 miasma of the embattled Greatest City In The World. Liz wanted hope. Liz wanted the promise of better. Liz wanted to know what was so funny about peace, love, and understanding. Liz wanted Elvis Costello and the Attractions.
We played the song for her. And we embraced the notion of looking for light in the darkness of insanity.
But so many times, as acts of violence and moments of sheer horror have pummeled us again and again and again and again and...damn it. God damn it. I love this song. I hate the recurring reason why I turn to it.
I don't really believe in God. I don't really disbelieve either; I'm not an Atheist, nor is my belief (or lack thereof) formal enough for me to consider myself an Agnostic. I don't question the existence of God so much as I remain unconvinced either way. I don't know. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it: I don't know.
Technically, I'm still a Catholic, I guess. I was raised Catholic, confirmed Catholic, and I went to Catholic church for decades. But I don't go to the meetings anymore, and I don't pay my membership dues. I respect the Church. I am no longer a part of it.
I respect your faith. Because, I don't know, you may be right. The Christians may be right. The Jews may be right. The Muslims may be right. The Wiccans, the Buddhists, the Atheists? I don't know. Maybe Corporal Klinger was right, in the spec M*A*S*H TV outline I concocted for a Radio and TV Writing course in college, as Klinger's quest to be dismissed from the army as a crazy person led him to fabricate a religion based on the divinity of the Lone Ranger. Hi-Ho Silver, Hallelujah!
Okay. That last one is not right. The others? I don't know. Neither do you.
And it's okay if you believe in something that can't be proven. That's why it's called faith. You may be secure in your belief system to the point that you take it as fact, as...well, Gospel. I have no problem with that. Your beliefs are yours to embrace, yours to proclaim, yours to accept as truth. Faith. Faith is not a sin.
It only becomes a sin when it is forced upon others. It becomes evil when believers kill on its behalf.
It's true of terrorists, foreign and domestic. It's true of individuals and it's true of groups, true of anyone who would take a weapon of any kind, proclaim a venomous conviction that some lives don't matter, and pass deadly judgement where judgement is not theirs to give. If there is a Hell, its flames await each and every one of them and those who enable them, from fringe groups and hatemongers to the soulless ghouls running the fucking NRA.
I have attended many Christian services over a span of decades, mostly Catholic, some Protestant, including some Mennonite services. I have attended a number of Jewish services. I have attended one Muslim service, a funeral at the Islamic Society Of Central New York. I confess (har!) that there were a few occasions when a priest or preacher said something from his pulpit that pissed me off, but even the worst of them never struck me as a murderer. More often than not, the Christian services I've experienced have been celebrations of love and hope. The Jewish services I've experienced have been celebrations of love and hope. My sole Muslim service experience was a celebration of love and hope. Religion isn't evil.
But religion is often used as a cloak for the unspeakable. No God--no God--sanctions the slaughter of innocents. This I do know. Zealots--mortal zealots--pervert what they claim is the Sacred Word, and use it as license to commit heinous acts that will condemn them to damnation eternal, as the God they worshiped looks on sadly and says, How could you so misunderstand my command to love?
Love.
I believe in love. I believe in a spiritual bond that connects us all, without silly regard for our many differences. I believe we can be better. I believe that hatred is strong, and I concede that hatred will win many battles. We will have cause to question our faith. But I believe love will prevail.
When will love prevail? I don't know.
Here on Earth, if there is a God, we are the ones responsible for carrying out His or Her work. Sometimes I believe, and I put God's name to that belief. Sometimes I despair, but retain faith that all hope is not gone, that there is more than pain and hatred and misery.
What's so funny? Really, what's so goddamned funny?
If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit toCC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.
I compiled a various-artists tribute album called Make Something Happen! A Tribute To The Flashcubes, and it's pretty damned good; you can read about it here and order it here. My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carlairs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming at SPARK streamand on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. You can read about our history here.
Our lives are accompanied by ache. The characteristics of the ache--the litany of losses, failures, broken trusts, broken promises, broken wills, and broken bones--are suffered with infinite variety, each collection of aches as unique as fingerprints or favorite records. Our ache is our own ache. Others may sympathize and care deeply, and we bless them all. We are better people if we care.
But no one else knows exactly what we're going through, no matter how similar their own aches may be. We didn't come off an assembly line. Our mileage varies. We contain multitudes.
When we can help, we do. We have to. There may not be all that much we can do, sure. Still, we stand, we listen, and we lend a hand when a hand is what's needed. We speak or offer silent support, as the situation demands. When the time is right, we seek a shared comfort in the fragile delights this imperfect life can offer.
Our nation is flooded with heartbreak, and the same sorry status applies to the world at large. It applies in ever-changing degree to people we hold dear. It applies to us.
We can't defeat the ache. That doesn't mean we have to accept it. We resist, with will and determination. And on this inconsequential little radio program, we resist with the audacity of joy.
Joy embraces us and ours. The ache doesn't vanish. Maybe our joy can sing a little louder, at least for a little while. Peace be with you, Dana, and with all of our friends everywhere. This is what rock 'n' roll radio sounded like on another Sunday night in Syracuse this week.
The betting line favors the ache, I guess. I'm still placing my chips on joy.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carlairs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming at SPARK stream, and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO.
Carl's latest book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get Carl's previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.
The many fine This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio compilation albums are still available, each full of that rockin' pop sound you crave. A portion of all sales benefit our perpetually cash-strapped community radio project:
As always, we play the hits as we see and hear them. This week's hit parade presents new music from THE LEGAL MATTERS, JIM BASNIGHT, THE JUNIOR LEAGUE, RANDY KLAWON, THE MORNING LINE, and TREVOR BLENDOUR, familiar faves by SLY AND THE FAMILY STONE, AMY RIGBY, THE HALF/CUBES, TALKING HEADS, THE CYNZ, SPECTRAFLAME, THE RAMONES, THE GO-GO'S, THELMA HOUSTON, THE CLICK BEETLES, THE BOOKENDS, THE BANGLES, THE HIGH FREQUENCIES, THE LITTLE GIRLS, GLENN ERB, THE KNACK, SERGIO CECCANTI, THE KINKS, THE HUMAN LEAGUE, THE ISLEY BROTHERS, RONNIE SPECTOR, THE MONKEES, and more, stuff we ain't ever played before by STYX, MARY-CHAPIN CARPENTER, DEBBIE DUVEEN AND THE MILLBANKS, THE CHARLATANS, THE CIRCLES, TONY VALENTINO, RICHARD HELL AND THE VOIDOIDS, BOBBY DARIN, THE SMALL FACES, and SORROWS, and the TIRnRR debut of WILLIE DOWLING. The hits as we define them. We play the hits! Sunday night, 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming via sparksyracuse.org, and as WESTCOTT RADIO on the Radio Garden app. The weekend stops HERE!
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl is simply too large a concept to be neatly contained within a mere three-hour weekly time slot. Hence these occasional fake TIRnRRplaylists, detailing shows we're never really going to do...but could.
The obsessions continue! Here's another imaginary playlist of songs that became obsessions for me at some point in time, and I tell ya, a lot of 'em still are. We wouldn't even have a radio show if we didn't have obsessions to drive it.
The many fine This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio compilation albums are still available, each full of that rockin' pop sound you crave. A portion of all sales benefit our perpetually cash-strapped community radio project:
10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. The lists are usually dominated by songs played on the previous Sunday night's edition of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl.The idea was inspired by Don Valentine of the essential blog I Don't Hear A Single
SERGIO CECCANTI: Leave The Past, Don't Look Behind
Our little mutant radio show has a long and rewarding history with the mighty Kool Kat Muzik label. Even before Ray Gianchetti (Mr. Kool Kat hisself) made his superfine rockin' pop imprint the home of our TIRnRR compilation albums, we've been programming Kool Kat cuts since the dawn of ever. Every new Kool Kat release is automatically under consideration for TIRnRR airplay, and almost all of them result in at least one track getting a spin on one (or more!) of our playlists. We're FANS!
And right now, I'm a big fan of Leave The Past, Don't Look Behind, the new Kool Kat Musik release by Sergio Ceccanti. The title track is just perfect--perfect!--for the radio-ready vibe we crave, channeling a '60s garage-pop atmosphere in service of a steely-eyed determination to seek a sure-footed next step forward. It opens this week's show, and it plays again this Sunday night. As it oughta! This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio is kool for kats.
I take great satisfaction in the fact that a track on the very last Ramones record is among my all-time Fave Raves, right alongside the irresistible music on the Ramones' first four albums at the end of the '70s. Grow up? As if.
We're told that growing up is inevitable. It isn't. We age, sure, but there's more to life and living than the accumulation of calendar pages. What do you want to be when you grow up? When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. Somewhere along the way, I figured out I could be a better writer if skipped the maturity phase entirely. Honestly, I don't think I could have hacked adulting. Grow up! I say no. Why on Earth would I ever wanna do that?
Understand: I'm not Peter Pan, nor do I wish to be. I have responsibilities, and I carry them out. That's part of the deal, and that's cool. We can accomplish stuff, serious shit, without abandoning the sense of glee that helped get us this far.
Because I am proudly and emphatically a senior-citizen kid who still dreams, still reads superhero comic books, still listens to my rockin' pop music a little louder than I should.
And I've written books, books crafted by the wide-eyed spark that's always driven me, whether I was a six-year-old discovering Batman or a teenager hearing "Sheena Is A Punk Rocker" for the first time.
As always: Growing up is for squares, man. The Ramones weren't gonna do it. We don't have to do it either. Don't want to. Won't need to. Ain't gonna.
BOB WEIR: One More Saturday Night
In the course of the 1994 interviews that eventually became my Ramones book, I told Johnny Ramone that one could compare the Ramones to (of all people) the Grateful Dead; though the two acts were otherwise dissimilar and then some, both bands built their fan base upon a foundation of live shows rather than record sales or radio exposure. Johnny bristled at the merest suggestion that the Ramones and the Dead could be mentioned in the same discussion.
My younger self would have likewise bristled at the notion of ever developing any sort of appreciation for the music of the Grateful Dead. It turned out that declining the odious dead-end option of growing up didn't require me to keep my mind and ears closed. I resisted for a long time, but even amidst my intransigence I could never deny the sheer splendor of the Dead's "Uncle John's Band," nor the pure pop gravitas of their 1987 MTV smash "Touch Of Grey," nor the Nuggets-worthy blast of 1967 gems "The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion)" and "Cream Puff War." My long strange trip trucked its way into grudging acceptance of the Dead, and ultimately into a greater interest. While my preferred short-attention approach to digging music precludes the likelihood of me embracing extended jams, I have to admit that I've come to like a number of Grateful Dead tracks. I don't even hate "Sugar Magnolia" anymore--and I REALLY hated "Sugar Magnolia" when I was a teen.
TIRnRR occasionally (if infrequently) plays the Dead. Dana played "Box Of Rain" on August 10th, and I played "Scarlet Begonias" the following week. Now, the passing of guitarist Bob Weir compels us to play a couple of tracks, in tribute, in recognition and, of course, in gratitude. Sticking with songs that Weir co-wrote, we settled on "One More Saturday Night" and "Hell In A Bucket."
I've known "One More Saturday Night" for years, but my brain didn't remember it was a live track. Wikipedia directed me to the song's original retail appearance, as a studio track on Weir's 1972 solo album Ace. Solo album status notwithstanding, the other members of the Dead accompany Weir throughout Ace.
Whether live Dead or studio Weir with the Dead, "One More Saturday Night" bops with barroom authority. Early '80s new wave Americana beat rockers the Kingpins could have covered it pretty much as-is, and I wish my younger self had been more willing to listen. Hey, younger self! We won't waste time asking you grow up. But maybe you could lighten up? After all, what's one more Saturday night among friends?
THE LITTLE GIRLS: How To Pick Up Girls
I'd never heard this song from the Little Girls' 1983 album Thank Heaven! until about a month ago, but it's for damned sure become one of my current pop obsessions. And hey! There's a video for it!
We'll play "How To Pick Up Girls" again on our next show. When obsessions call, we better pick up.
Badfinger's "Baby Blue" is also my all-time # 1 favorite track, and I can't believe it took me this long to put the song into one of our weekly GREM! spots.
BLUE ASH: Say Goodbye
A chance to play previously-unavailable material by 1970s power pop stars Blue Ash? Yes, please. Dinner At Mr. Billy's dives into the archive to gather eighteen Blue Ash tracks recorded in a span from 1970 to 1974, and it's promised as the first in a series of Blue Ash rarity releases. The legacy grows!
HONEYCHAIN: Let's Get Pretty
"Let's get pretty." Worthy goal! Playing Honeychain on the radio is also a worthy goal, and their new single "Let's Get Pretty" is pretty amazing. I feel prettier already.
THE GRATEFUL DEAD: Hell In A Bucket
The Dead's other MTV hit, and just a fantastic track in its own right. Godspeed, Bob Weir.
David Bowie's death in January of 2016 had far more impact on me than I would have ever thought likely. There were external factors in play; my daughter had just begun a semester in London, and it would be, by far, the longest time I would ever go without seeing her. I felt fragile, mortal. I felt sad, my pride in her accomplishments and delight in her opportunities not quite sufficient to ease the ache inside. Bowie died. I wasn't even all that much of a fan. Yet his passing hit me harder than any celebrity death since losing Joey Ramone on Easter Sunday in 2001.
I needed to release the feeling. Somehow. I wrote this open letter to David Bowie, intending to use it as commentary for the posted playlist of our This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio tribute to Bowie, which played on January 17th of '16. My 56th birthday. Look at that caveman go.
It wasn't enough. I couldn't email the playlist out and just let it go. I needed more. I started my blog on January 18th, with this letter to Bowie as my inaugural post. It had been ten years since I gave up freelancing; it hadn't been fun anymore. I promised myself I would post something, however slight, every single day. Every. Goddamned. Day. No excuses. I had largely stopped writing. I needed to get back to writing. Immediately.
Although I had always liked the track "Life On Mars?," particularly when I saw Bowie perform it in concert, it had never been one of my top Bowie tracks. "Rebel Rebel," "Panic In Detroit," and "Suffragette City" had been my go-to Bowie tunes. That changed in 2016, as I found myself listening to "Life On Mars?" obsessively, clinging to its...what? Its artiness? Its desperation? The smoke and mirror of its implied depth, the verve of its execution, the simple beauty of its being? Yes. And Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman, tickling the ivories so expressively on that recording. Sailors fighting in the dancehall, a lawman beating up the wrong guy. The song felt like a connection to what was lost, to what could still be recovered, to what could always be remembered.
The drumbeat of mortality seemed just incessant in 2016. Prince's death in June felt like the last straw, but it wasn't. Trump's election was a vicious blow. On election night, Meghan texted me from college, looking in vain for reassurance as we both watched the electoral results with growing dread and horror. Jesus, 2016 wasn't even two weeks old when Bowie died. We should have taken that as a sign to return the damned year to sender, postage due.
We survived. Not intact, not good as new, but...survived. As I mourned David Bowie here, my daughter was in England mourning actor Alan Rickman, so beloved by her for his role as Severus Snape in the Harry Potter movies. We commiserated with each other's loss. She wrote Rickman a touching thank-you note, which she placed at Charing Cross Station in his memory. I wrote a letter to David Bowie, and I started a blog. I cried. I wrote. I wrote more in 2016 than in any single year before that.
And I played a song called "Life On Mars?" Is there life on Mars? Is there life anywhere? The ache we feel is part of it. Talking about it helps. Writing about it helps. It's about to be writ again. It's a God-awful small affair. That's life.
THE HIGH FREQUENCIES: Cleanup Time
Looking at the news of the nation and the world, I say it's long past time for a cleanup, especially in the Oval Office. The High Frequencieshave a soundtrack. Grab your disinfectant, and the will to use it.
If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit toCC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.
I compiled a various-artists tribute album called Make Something Happen! A Tribute To The Flashcubes, and it's pretty damned good; you can read about it here and order it here. My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.
This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carlairs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, streaming at SPARK streamand on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. You can read about our history here.
