1970s – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Connie Converse

I wrote this for Lisa’s WMM (Women Music March) as I have proudly done for the past few years in March. Lisa was one of the first followers I had when starting out, and she is one of the readers who helped build my site in a lot of ways. Please go see the original post and visit her site. Thanks, Lisa!

It’s a shame she is more remembered for what may or may not have happened to her than for her music. She has been hailed for being ahead of her time, and she was. I plead with everyone reading this, please look her up and read some things about her. I have barely scratched the surface with this post.

Connie Converse is one of the most unusual stories in folk music or music in general. She wrote quiet, thoughtful songs in the early 1950s. That was years before the folk revival made that style popular. At the time, almost no one outside a small circle of friends heard her music. Decades later, people realized she had been doing something new long before it became fashionable.

She was born Elizabeth Eaton Converse in 1924 in New Hampshire. She grew up in a strict Baptist family and showed an early interest in writing and music. After leaving college, she moved to New York City in the late 1940s. She went there hoping to find a place in the arts. Instead of the louder folk style that would come later, Converse wrote reflective songs that sounded closer to personal thoughts or even letters.

During the early 1950s, she performed occasionally in New York apartments and small gatherings. Her friend Gene Deitch, who later worked in animation, recorded many of her songs at home on a tape machine. In 1954, she appeared on The Morning Show on CBS, singing several of her compositions. The appearance did not lead to a recording contract, and by the end of the decade, she stepped away from performing.

In the early 1960s, Converse moved to Michigan and worked in publishing and writing. Music slowly faded from her life, and she became a huge activist on racism. On August 10, 1974, she wrote letters to friends and family and packed her belongings into a Volkswagen Beetle and drove away from her Ann Arbor, Michigan home. She was never heard from again, and her disappearance remains unexplained. She left letters indicating a desire to start a new life and instructed friends/family not to look for her. No traces of her or her car were ever found. There have been theories about her. While she may have started a new life, the most widely discussed theories include suicide (possibly by driving into a body of water) or death by misadventure.

Several years after she left, someone told her brother Philip that they had seen a phone book listing for “Elizabeth Converse” in either Kansas or Oklahoma, but he never pursued the lead. About ten years after she disappeared, the family hired a private investigator in hopes of finding her. The investigator told the family, however, that even if he did find her, it was her right to disappear, and he could not simply bring her back. After that, her family respected her decision to leave and ceased looking for her.

Her music might have stayed unknown if Gene Deitch had not preserved those early tapes. In 2009, the label Squirrel Thing Recordings released a collection of her recordings. For the first time, people heard the songs she had written more than fifty years earlier. Listeners were struck by how modern they sounded, both in their lyrics and their quiet delivery.

Today, Connie Converse is often mentioned as a lost pioneer of singer-songwriter music. She worked alone with a guitar, writing direct songs about daily life, loneliness, and independence, years before artists in the 1960s folk revival made that approach common.

What makes Connie Converse interesting is timing. She was writing personal, singer-songwriter-style material in the early 1950s, almost a decade before that approach became common. If these songs had been recorded during the 1960s folk revival, her story might look very different.

Connie Converse: “Human society fascinates me and awes me and fills me with grief and joy; I just can’t find my place to plug into it”

“I believe all true art is, in this sense, impersonal:
its value does not depend on knowing or thinking anything
about its maker. Art is not an extension of the artist’s personality,
but has its own life”

“The problem, or at least a problem, I’ve been told —
is that I am not very concerned about being missed
upon any of my exits, not the ones that are voluntary
nor the ones that swoop down without warning
to cover me in a quilt of dark feathers”.

Max’s Drive-In Movie – High Plains Drifter

The word ambiguity pops up in my head when I watch this movie. It’s part of its allure. His later movie, Pale Rider, has some things in common with this one. But this movie is more raw and gritty. That reminds me why I love seventies filmmaking. Yes, it’s called a revenge movie, but I don’t see it as revenge. I see it as a movie about justice. This is not an innocent town; many of its citizens have witnessed things they could have tried to stop but refused to.

This movie is not one I’ve watched all of my life. My son, Bailey, turned me on to this movie not long ago. How did I miss this movie? It’s now high on my movie list. It’s uncomfortable to watch at times, and it has mystery. That’s probably the reason we are still talking about it 53 years after it was released.

It’s not a total spaghetti-type western, and it’s not a total Hollywood western movie. It’s on its own in a special category. Everything in this movie has a purpose and a reason, so nothing is random. This is the first western that Eastwood directed, and he didn’t miss a beat. He learned from two of the best, Don Siegel and Sergio Leone. He even put their names in the town’s graveyard as a tribute (see below).

This movie is a 1973 western directed by and starring Clint Eastwood. It arrived during the era when westerns were getting darker and stranger. The film blends the revenge themes of spaghetti westerns with something closer to a ghost story. Eastwood plays a nameless stranger who rides into the small mining town of Lago, a place that clearly has problems it would rather forget.

The town hires the stranger for protection. Three outlaws are about to be released from prison and are coming back for revenge, and the people of Lago know they cannot defend themselves. The stranger agrees to help, but he does it on his own terms. He quickly takes control of the town, training them and pushing the citizens in ways that make them uncomfortable. The more he does, the clearer it becomes that the town is hiding something about its past.

Without giving away too much, the stranger’s actions start to feel less like protecting and more like judgment. Lago is slowly turned into something resembling a trap for the returning outlaws. The film’s tone grows darker and more eerie as it approaches the final showdown. Eastwood keeps the audience wondering who the stranger really is and why he seems to know so much about the town.

As I said before, in this movie you will find surrealism, darkness, and symbolism…not a typical Western. Plus some wonderful character actors like Mitchell Ryan, John Hillerman, Geoffrey Lewis, Verna Bloom, Billy Curtis, Marianna Hill, Walter Barnes, and more. .

I’ve liked how this one feels different from most westerns. It’s not just gunfighters and dusty streets. There’s a sense that something bigger is going on beneath the surface. Eastwood had already made his mark in westerns, but here he pushed the genre into darker territory. The mystery surrounding the stranger keeps the film interesting, and it leaves you thinking about it after it ends. This movie shows a lot of violence and uncomfortable scenes, so if that bothers you, beware before you watch it. It also gives the phrase “painting the town red” another meaning altogether.

Fun Fact…the graveyard also had a few other directors besides the ones I mentioned, and Eastwood was quoted as saying, “I buried my directors.“

Manfred Mann’s Earth Band – Davy’s On The Road Again

This is one of those tracks I didn’t hear on the radio much growing up, but when I finally caught it, it stuck. It feels like a road song, not romantic, just moving forward. The keyboard hook is what pulls me back every time.

This showed up on the album Watch in 1978, but the song had already lived a life before Manfred Mann’s Earth Band got to it. It was written by producer John Simon and Robbie Robertson, and first recorded by John Simon in 1970. Like a lot of Mann’s best work, the band took an overlooked track and rebuilt it into something that felt bigger and more direct.

The album was a studio album, but with two live songs. This is one of them, and the other was Dylan’s Mighty Quinn. This version runs on momentum. and the groove is steady. Chris Thompson handles the vocals with control, letting the melody carry the weight. Then Mann’s keyboards come in, especially the Minimoog lines, which give the track its identity.

It fits the late 70s; I’m worn out by the road, theme, without spelling everything out. The band keeps their performance grounded. No over-the-top excess, just steady music. The song became one of their biggest live and chart successes, especially in Europe, and helped define this period of the band. Like their version of Blinded by the Light, it shows how Manfred Mann had a knack for finding songs and reshaping them without losing their core.

The song peaked at #6 in the UK in 1978. The album Watch peaked at #33 in the UK, #83 on the Billboard Album Charts, #29 in New Zealand, and #85 in Canada.

Davy’s On The Road Again

Davey’s on the road againWearing different clothes againDavey’s turning handouts downTo keep his pockets cleanAll his goods are sold againHis word is good as gold againSays if you see JeanNow ask her please to pity me

Jean and I we’ve moved alongSince that day down in the hollowWhen the mind went drifting onAnd the feet were soon to follow

Davey’s on the road againWearing different clothes againDavey’s turning handouts downTo keep his pockets cleanSaid his goodbyes againWheels are in his eyes againSays if you see JeanNow ask her please to pity me

Downtown is a big townGonna set you back on your heelsWith a mouth full of memoriesAnd a load of stickers for the windshield

Shut the door, cut the lightDavey won’t be home tonightYou can wait till the dawn rolls inYou won’t see our Davey again

Davey’s on the road againDavey’s on the road againDavey’s on the road again

Wearing different clothes againDavey’s turning handouts downTo keep his pockets cleanAll his goods are sold againHis word is good as gold againSays if you see JeanNow ask her please to pity me

Jean and I we’ve moved alongSince that day down in the hollowWhen the mind went drifting onAnd the feet were soon to follow

Stooges – Fun House

I like the Stooges because I like raw and uncooked…and that is them. This song was the title track of their second studio album. This one is not just loud guitar and vocals. If you are a saxophone fan, you will like this. Steve Mackay plays the tenor saxophone in this and tears it up.

When they entered the recording studio in 1970, the band wanted to capture what their shows sounded like. Producer Don Gallucci helped them set up the room so the group could play together, loud and loose as normal for them. Out of those sessions came this song, a track that shows how far the band had moved from the more structured songs on their first album.

The lineup at the time was Iggy Pop, guitarist Ron Asheton, drummer Scott Asheton, and bassist Dave Alexander. The song runs on a repeating riff from Ron Asheton while the rhythm section locks into a groove that sticks. Instead of building toward a traditional chorus, the song stretches out. When saxophonist Steve Mackay joins in, adding a free-form part that pushes the music further into chaos.

I love Iggy’s voice in this one. His vocals often move between spoken lines and shouted phrases. The recording keeps the rough edges…which was the goal of the sessions. The band wanted something closer to the stage than to a polished studio track. I tend to write that a lot in my reviews… because well…raw and uncooked remember? That’s what I like.

When the saxophone really kicks in, and the rhythm keeps rolling, it feels like the walls of the room are closing in…and I like that.

Fun House

Blow right on it, now!
Blow, Steve!
I feel alright
Yeah, I feel alright
Let me in
Hey, let me in
‘Ey, bring it down

Callin’ from the fun house with my song
We been separated, baby, far too long
A-callin’ all you whoop-dee pretty things
Shinin’ in your freedom, come and be my rings

Hold me tight, callin’ from the fun house
Hold me tight, callin’ from the fun house

Yeah, I came to play and I mean to play around
Yeah, I came to play and I mean to play real good
Yeah, I came to play

Alright
Hey, let me in
Take it down
I feel alright
A-take it down

Little baby girlie, little baby boy
Cover me with lovin’ in a bundle o’ joy
Do I care to show you what I’m dreamin’ of
Do I dare to whoop y’all with my love

Every little baby knows just what I mean
Livin’ in division in a shiftin’ scene

Hold me tight, callin’ from the fun house
Hold me tight, callin’ from the fun house

Blow
Yeah, I came to play
I came to play
Blow, Steve!

Hey
Hey now
Let me in
One more time
Take it down
Take it down
A-take it down

We been separated
We been separated
A little too long

Blow
Yeah, I came to play
Yeah, fun house, boy, will steal your heart away
Yeah, fun house, boy, will steal your heart away
Steal
Yeah
I came to play
I came to play
I came to play
This is it
Baby
Yeah, I came to play
I came to play

David Gilmour – There’s No Way Out Of Here

Gilmour is one of those guitarists who you know by his tone. That’s all it takes to recognize him playing without knowing it. In the 1980s, Paul McCartney released “No More Lonely Nights,” and I knew right away that he must have called David Gilmour to do the solo…and he did. Gilmour is like Hendrix in that regard; it’s not hard to pick out his sound.

I will admit, my favorite Pink Floyd music is the Syd Barrett years, although I do like some of the 1970s as well. Listening to Gilmour’s debut solo album, I’m really impressed. His songs were on point and not much wandering into Floyd land. Of course, you hear some; it’s hard not to with his voice.

When David Gilmour began work on his first solo album, David Gilmour, the idea made sense. He wanted a break from the structure and pressure that surrounded Pink Floyd in the 1970s. As he said, to establish his own identity outside of the “claustrophobic shadow of Pink Floyd.” The band had just finished the massive tour for Animals, and was entering a tense period that would lead to The Wall. Recording a solo record gave Gilmour a chance to work at his own pace and record songs that didn’t need to fit a concept.

Some songs came from outside writers. This song was written by Ken Baker and had first appeared on a record by the British country-rock group Unicorn. Gilmour liked the song and reshaped it with a heavier guitar sound and a slower feel to fit him perfectly. Once he puts that guitar on a song, it becomes a Gilmour song.

The songs on this album were shorter and more straightforward. The guitar stayed at the center of the sound. It didn’t try to compete with the HUGE scale of Pink Floyd’s records. Over time, the album has come to be seen as a snapshot of where he was just before the The Wall era began.

The album peaked at #17 in the UK, #29 on the Billboard Album Charts, and #22 in New Zealand in 1978.

There’s No Way Out of Here

There’s no way out of hereWhen you come inYou’re in for goodThere was no promise madeThe part you playedThe chance you took

There are no boundaries setThe time and yetYou waste it stillSo it slips through your handsLike grains of sandYou watch it goThere’s no time to be lostYou’ll pay the costSo get it right

There’s no way out of hereWhen you come inYou’re in for good

And never was there an answerThere an answerNot without listeningWithout seeing

There are no answers hereWhen you look outYou don’t see inThere was no promise madeThe part you playedThe chance you took

There’s no way out of hereWhen you come inYou’re in for good

And never was there an answerThere an answerNot without listeningWithout seeing

There’s no way out of hereWhen you come inYou’re in for goodThere are no answers hereWhen you look outYou don’t see in

There was no promise madeThe part you playedThe chance you took

(When you come in)(You’re in for good)

Janis Joplin – Me and Bobby McGee

I wrote this for Randy’s site for a series he is having called “Herstory.” Here is the criteria:

We have laid out three criteria to focus on women in music. Each article will include one or more of these.

Songs written by men but sung by a woman with a female POV.

Songs written by a woman and sung by themselves or for/with another woman

Collaborative efforts. Written with input from both a woman and a man but sung by a woman.

First of all, I’m honored to be part of this and to be asked by Randy. Thank you for posting this last week. My posts are usually personal, and this one won’t be any different, unfortunately. It’s the only way I know how to write. I could never be a critic because I’m too much of a fan.

When Janis Joplin recorded this song, it wasn’t meant to be the centerpiece of the album. The song, written by Kris Kristofferson, had already been around the country and folk circuits, covered by Roger Miller and others. Joplin cut her version in 1970 during sessions for Pearl, not long before her death. She injected life into this song. The lyric about losing love and finding freedom sounded like something she had lived rather than learned.

Me and Bobby McGee quickly became Joplin’s signature song. This was a slightly different vocal for Janis. There is more control in her voice in this one. The producer Paul A. Rothchild was working with Janis to use her voice more efficiently so she could continue to sing later on in her career. Unfortunately, she never got a chance.

The Full Tilt Boogie Band keeps it simple behind her, soft rhythm, light piano, no clutter. That space lets Joplin carry the whole thing. She starts gently, almost timidly (for her), then slowly lets her voice go. The dynamic is incredible to hear, and it never gets old. By the final verse, it feels less like singing and more like remembering. It’s the sound of someone in pain. You feel that pain with Janis; you ALWAYS felt pain with Janis.

Plenty of artists have covered this song. Janis Joplin lived it for just four minutes, but those 4 minutes have turned into 56 years and counting. Kristofferson wrote a strong song, but Joplin turned it into an epic masterpiece. It isn’t about the road, or even about Bobby. It’s about how freedom can feel empty when the person you shared it with is gone. That’s why her version stayed, and the others faded. Without knowing it, she put a claim on that song, and she owns it like no other ever will.

This was Janis Joplin’s only top ten hit, although her songs are still played today. This was released after Joplin passed away. Her death gave the album a lot of attention, and Pearl went to #1 on the Billboard Album Chart in 1971. It was the second song to hit #1 in the US after the artist had died. Dock Of The Bay by Otis Redding was the first. Janis idolized Otis, so she would probably have liked that.

Kris Kristofferson: “I had just gone to work for Combine Music. Fred Foster, the owner, called me and said, ‘I’ve got a title for you: ‘Me and Bobbie McKee,’ and I thought he said ‘McGee.’ I thought there was no way I could ever write that, and it took me months hiding from him because I can’t write on assignment. But it must have stuck in the back of my head. One day I was driving between Morgan City and New Orleans. It was raining and the windshield wipers were going. I took an old experience with another girl in another country. I had it finished by the time I got to Nashville.”

“For some reason, I thought of La Strada, this Fellini film, and a scene where Anthony Quinn is going around on this motorcycle and Giulietta Masina is the feeble-minded girl with him, playing the trombone. He got to the point where he couldn’t put up with her anymore and left her by the side of the road while she was sleeping. Later in the film, he sees this woman hanging out the wash and singing the melody that the girl used to play on the trombone. He asks, ‘Where did you hear that song?’ And she tells him it was this little girl who had showed up in town and nobody knew where she was from, and later she died. That night, Quinn goes to a bar and gets in a fight. He’s drunk and ends up howling at the stars on the beach. To me, that was the feeling at the end of ‘Bobby McGee.’ The two-edged sword that freedom is. He was free when he left the girl, but it destroyed him. That’s where the line ‘Freedom’s just another name for nothing left to lose’ came from.

“The first time I heard Janis Joplin’s version was right after she died. Paul Rothchild, her producer, asked me to stop by his office and listen to this thing she had cut. Afterwards, I walked all over L.A., just in tears. I couldn’t listen to the song without really breaking up. So when I came back to Nashville, I went into the Combine [Publishing] building late at night, and I played it over and over again, so I could get used to it without breaking up. [Songwriter and keyboardist] Donnie Fritts came over and listened with me, and we wrote a song together that night about Janis, called ‘Epitaph’.

Van Morrison – Warm Love

Dave posted this on his TurnTable Talk on February 19. The topic that he gave us was simple enough…a song with the word love in it. This song and Crazy Love came to mind from Van so I went with this one, you don’t hear this one as often.

In 1986-87 I bought the Van Morrison album Hard Nose the Highway, and this song, among others, caught my attention. The album is not up there with Moondance or Astral Weeks, but it’s a good album. When I heard this song on the album, I got the feeling I’d heard it before. It did peak at #66 in Canada in 1973. I’m sure I heard it on AM radio when I was a kid. It sounds like a hit. I just fell and am still over his wide-open songs, such as the title track, the previous album track, and “Saint Dominic’s Preview.”

When I got into Van…I really got into him. I ended up buying his first 9 albums (not counting the early Bang years), from the 1968 album Astral Weeks to the 1978 Wavelength album. I also ordered a hard-to-find Them album from England. An album I still have with me, one of the very few that survived my many moves in my younger days.

I always thought Warm Love was the sister song to Crazy Love off his Moondance album from 3 years before. Coming off the open sound of Saint Dominic’s Preview, Van Morrison went into Hard Nose the Highway in 1973 in a different headspace. The sessions were very successful, and they recorded over 30 songs. Morrison originally wanted to make it a double album, but the record company talked him into a single one.

The songs that caught my attention on first listen were this song, the title track, and a song called The Great Deception. He also did a cover of Kermit! Yes, Van covered Being Green on this album. It’s a good album and always a joy to listen to. Van had a band at this time called The Caledonia Soul Orchestra, and they were tight. Some of them played on this album.

The Caledonia Soul Orchestra was the road band that powered Van Morrison through one of the strongest stretches of his career, roughly 1972 to 1974. After the success of Moondance and the more reflective albums that followed, Morrison wanted a band that could move between jazz, R&B, folk, and soul without losing momentum. He found it in a large ensemble built around horns, a tight rhythm section, and backing vocalists who could follow his changes in real time.

A huge talent of Van is to make songs that feel off the cuff but polished at the same time. As with most of the album, it was built around live takes, with horns and backing vocals added only where they felt natural.

The album peaked at #27 on the Billboard Album Charts, #18 in Canada, and #22 in the UK in 1973. This live version is the best one I’ve heard, but it won’t let me embed it here.

Van Morrison: It is just a boy and girl song, walking on the beach. It’s a young song. I can’t really add to that, except to note that this is a musical love affair, with the girl bringing her guitar.

Warm Love

Look at the ivy on the old clinging wallLook at the flowers and the green grass so tallIt’s not a matter of when push comes to shoveIt’s just a hour on the wings of a dove

It’s just warm loveIt’s just warm love

I dig it when you’re fancy dressed up in laceI dig it when you have a smile on your faceThis inspiration’s got to be on the flowBut these invitation’s got to see it and know

It’s just warm loveIt’s just warm love

And it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereWarm loveAnd it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm love

To the country I’m goingLay and laugh in the sunYou can bring your guitar alongWe’ll sing some songs, we’ll have some fun

The sky is crying and it’s time to go homeAnd we shall hurry to the car from the foamSit by the fire and dry out our wet clothesIt’s raining outside from the skies up above

Inside, it’s warm loveInside, it’s warm love

And it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm loveAnd it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm love, I can feel it

And it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm love, heyAnd it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm love, heyAnd it’s ever present everywhereAnd it’s ever present everywhereThat warm love

Uncle Tupelo w/Doug Sahm – Give Back The Key To My Heart

Yes, I posted Sahm recently, but here he is leading the way with Uncle Tupelo. What a great and natural combination. Running across this was just fantastic! I can’t put into words how much I love the down-home sound of this. One more legend is on this album that I will reveal at the bottom of the post…no skipping or peaking!

When Uncle Tupelo teamed up with Doug Sahm on this song, it felt less like a guest spot and more like a handoff between two generations. Sahm had already lived a lifetime in Texas blues, country, and rock and roll. Uncle Tupelo were still mapping out what roots rock could sound like in the early ’90s. The song sits right in the middle of that meeting point.

Sahm sounds relaxed, like he’s telling a story on a porch. Jay Farrar and Jeff Tweedy hang back just enough to let the song lead. I always liked Uncle Tupelo anyway, but add Doug Sahm? Oh hell yes! I could listen to this type of music all day and twice on Sunday, as the saying goes. It gives me a great feeling, and it just fits all together so well. The backup vocals are on target, but also riding around the edges; it’s such a lived-in sound that I love. There is no overdubbing or big production…just back porch sounding goodness.

This track shows what Uncle Tupelo were always good at, connecting past and present without making it sound like a museum piece. Doug Sahm doesn’t feel like a legend that was just dropped in for credibility. He feels like part of the band, which in this he is. Doug Sahm wrote this song, and it was on the Uncle Tupelo album called Anodyne, released in 1993. He first released it as Sir Doug and the Texas Tornados in 1976.

There is one more legend on this album doing some vocals…the one and only Joe Ely. He did the lead vocals on Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way?

Give Back The Key To My Heart

Take my picture off the wallIt don’t matter to me at allSaid I was headed for a fallBut you wanted me to crawl

Give back my TVIt don’t mean that much to meWhile you’re giving back my thingsGive me back the key to my heart

Give back the key to my heartGive back the key to my heartAnd let my love flow like a riverStraight into your heart, dear

Well, you say I was the oneTo blame for the wrong that’s been doneWell, you got a friend named cocaineAnd to me, he is to blame

He has drained life from your faceHe has taken my placeWhile you’re alone in San AntoneGive me back the key to my heart

Give back the key to my heartGive back the key to my heartAnd let my love flow like a riverStraight into your heart, dear

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Sentry

March 28, 1975 Season 1 Episode 20

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

First of all, thank you all for following this series. This is the final episode, unfortunately. It’s been a fun trip down this lane! It was a lot of fun watching these again after at least a decade for me. Sometimes older shows, even 5 years old, don’t hold up as well. These really do, and even the weaker episodes have something to offer. Not many times can I say I watched a complete series without one clunker. I can see why this series is a cult favorite.

What were you doing on March 28, 1975? I was 8 and probably in bed when this came on, but now I’m catching up. In this one, we have Kathie Browne (Star Trek, Wink of an Ey e episode, Gunsmoke, etc, 93 acting credits) as Lieutenant Irene Lamont. She was also Darren McGavin’s real-life wife. Their chemistry is evident, and it strengthens this episode. She knows how to handle Kolchak, about as well as you can anyway. If the show had gone on to another season, it would have been smart to bring her in to play Lieutenant Irene Lamont for good. Unlike the other reporters, Kolchak is not charmed by a pretty face like the other reporters were.

Tom Bosley (Mr. C on Happy Days) also guest stars as Jack Flaherty, who works at an underground data-storage facility where the trouble begins. The data storage was there in case of nuclear war. Companies can have all their records stored safely, and for personal items.

This episode started at the end with a flashback, with Kolchak racing down a long corridor in a golf cart. He is being chased by something, and then the story begins as he talks into his recorder. Before this, a wave of violent attacks in the data storage center tunnels happened in Chicago. Victims are found torn apart, and police believe a large animal may be responsible. Carl Kolchak notices the injuries don’t match any known animal in the area and begins tracing the incidents to locations connected by buried passageways beneath the city.

Kolchak impersonates a doctor to be there for an autopsy and an insurance man to get information out of a data storage worker. Just a typical day for him. Conning his way into the underground facility, Kolchak sees a large, reptilian creature, and when he tries to tell the police, he discovers what appears to be a government and military cover-up. He also realizes that the exciting geologic find, which appears to be rock are actually a nest of eggs.

In the final moments, Kolchak follows the creature into the tunnels and comes face-to-face with it again. He finishes his report, aware it will likely never be published, yet again.

Anyone familiar with Star Trek will recognize this plot as a close remake of the classic episode, “The Devil In The Dark” in which a creature with the ability to travel through solid rock kills miners who have mistakenly destroyed its eggs.

So long, Carl, we thank you for being such a truly iconic character.

Closing Narration

I know what’s gonna happen now. As far as the authorities are concerned, the events of April twentieth and twenty-first will never have occurred. They-They’re gonna tell me that if I ever breathe a word of this, they’re gonna break me like a straw man. Now what about the sentry? Will its eggs hatch in the warm, dark dank dampness of its nesting place? Who knows? Maybe the government will find the nest, maybe they won’t. We’ll probably never know. But if you’re in the subway or in a pedestrian tunnel underneath a ballpark and you think you hear something moving in the walls, it may not be your imagination. Take my advice, don’t walk, run to the nearest exit.

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Youth Killer

March 14, 1975 Season 1 Episode 19

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

We have the very lovely Cathy Lee Crosby in this episode as Helen Surtees. She runs the Max-Match Corporation, a dating service. It also had John Fiedler, whose voice is very thin and right above a whisper. His voice was probably more well-known than he was. John Fiedler voiced Piglet in Disney’s Winnie the Pooh franchise for 37 years, from 1968 to 2005. He was on Star Trek and guested on The Bob Newhart Show many times as one of Bob’s patients. George Savalas, Telly’s brother, played Demosthenes, which, funny enough, was his real middle name. A nice support from a funny Kathleen Freeman as Bella Sarkof, a matchmaker hoping to find Kolchak a wife (she may, in fact, still be waiting for Kolchak’s return call).

This episode opens with a string of murders where older men and women are found with their bodies showing signs of extreme aging in a short time. Police think it is a normal homicide case with strange medical results, but Kolchak notices that every victim had recently crossed paths with the same young person.

He uncovers records going back decades showing the same face connected to deaths. Doctors confirm the victims lost years of life in hours. Kolchak realizes the killer is not just murdering but absorbing life itself, using it to stay young. The trail leads to Max-Match.

In the final stretch, Kolchak confronts the problem and forces a showdown that reveals the truth and stops the killing. Kolchak files another report that will likely be buried, while the city moves on as if nothing unusual happened. It’s an odd episode. It has some very funny and entertaining scenes in this one, but overall, it’s not one of the top episodes.

Jam – Worlds Apart

I first heard about The Jam in the 80s, around the same time I found Big Star, The Replacements, The Clash, and REM. When I listen to The Jam, I think of the Kinks and The Who right away, and that is always a good thing.

When people talk about the British punk explosion of the late ’70s, The Jam always stand a little apart. While others were known for being abrasive and loud, The Jam drew influence from 1960s Mod culture. Paul Weller had a knack for crafting sharp, pop-infused songwriting about everyday British life. They were formed in Woking in the early ’70s by Paul Weller, bassist Bruce Foxton, and drummer Rick Buckler. The band was a trio that was tight and direct.

They went from pub stages to one of the biggest bands in Britain, leaving behind a catalog that is very strong. There is not much information on this song out there. It wasn’t on a studio album, nor was it a B-side. It was released in 1997 for the first time on their Direction Reaction Creation album, which covered all the studio albums, non-album singles, and demos. They broke up in 1982 after releasing 6 albums in all.

From what I found, it was recorded around 1978 for the album All Mod Cons, but never made the album. I’m sure that is the case because it was also included on the All Mod Cons (Deluxe Edition) that was released in 2002. They were an incredible band, being a tight full trio. Direction Reaction Creation peaked at #8, fifteen years after they broke up in 1997.

Worlds Apart

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

The difference between every day
I can’t think of the words to say

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

I’ve been in some clubs where the music’s loud
‘cos I see your face in every crowd
But it’s not really you

It’s like having a cold on a summers day
Something ain’t right and I want you to stay
You must know that

Worlds apart, you and I, we’re worlds apart

Doug Sahm – Is Anybody Goin’ to San Antone

I’ve posted a few of Sahm’s tracks in the past 4-5 months. I was inspired this time to post again. I have been reading 11.22.63 by Stephen King, and it’s about a man who was told about a time portal that takes you to September 9, 1958. He walked through and was going back to stop Oswald from killing JFK if Oswald was the one. The book is interesting because of the time he has to kill between 1958 and 1963, and the side trips he takes.

One of them is in Texas in a fictional town called Jodie. He is at a picnic, and this is the paragraph that caught my attention: I got my beer in a paper cup and walked closer to the bandstand. The kid’s voice was familiar. So was the keyboard, which sounded like it desperately wanted to be an accordion. And suddenly it clicked. The kid was Doug Sahm, and not so many years from now he would have hits of his own: “She’s About a Mover” for one, “Mendocino” for another. That would be during the British Invasion, so the band, which basically played Tejano rock, would take a pseudo-British name: The Sir Douglas Quintet.

Hey, inspiration may come from anywhere for a post. After reading that…I’ve been in a Doug Sahm mood. The recording blends country, soul, and Texas rhythm in a way that was natural for Sahm. The groove leans on a steady beat, light horns, and a melody that sticks without trying too hard. It came out during a period when he was working under his own name after years with Sir Douglas Quintet, and it showed how easily he could move between styles. The song had crossed over to country charts and pop audiences, which wasn’t common at the time.

You may remember the version by Charley Pride that peaked at #1 on the Country Charts in 1970. Sahm recorded this for his 1973 album Doug Sahm and Band. Something about Sahm’s version just sounds so authentic that I had to post his version. That is something about Sahm I’ve realized, everything he does sounds authentic. It was written by Glenn Martin and Dave Kirby. The first version was by Bake Turner in 1970.

Doug Sahm and Band peaked at #125 on the Billboard Album Charts and #54 in Canada in 1973. This is another artist where the charts don’t tell the story. His albums are accessible and are full of good songs.

Is Anybody Goin’ to San Antone

Rain drippin’ off the brim of my hatIt sure is cold todayHere I am walkin’ down 66Wish she hadn’t done me that way

Sleepin’ under a table in a roadside parkA man could wake up deadBut it sure seems warmer than it didSleepin’ in our king-sized bed

Is anybody goin’ to San AntoneOr Phoenix, Arizona?Any place is alright as long as ICan forget I’ve ever known her

Wind whippin’ down the neck of my shirtLike I ain’t got nothin’ onBut I’d rather fight the wind and rainThan what I’ve been fightin’ at home

Yonder comes a truck with the U.S. MailPeople writin’ letters back homeTomorrow, she’ll probably want me backBut I’ll still be just as gone

Is anybody goin’ to San AntoneOr Phoenix, Arizona?Any place is alright as long as ICan forget I’ve ever known her

Rolling Stones – Moonlight Mile

When I hear this song, I think of deep winter, which fits perfectly right now. That is when I first heard it, during a cold January. Our drummer turned me on to this song and most of the Stones’ album cuts. I was the Beatles guy, and he was the Stones guy of our band, so our car trips were full of great music picked by either of us.

Keith Richards was not at the recording session for one reason or another. Richard likes the song, though. With Richards gone, Mick Taylor did all the guitar work on the recording, and it’s outstanding as usual for Taylor. Mick Taylor really defined much of their sound through this period. When he left, the sound they had stretched over their golden period of 5 albums was gone. Additionally, producer Jimmy Miller also left, and he had a huge role in the sound.

I’ve looked up what Moonlight Mile, the title, means, and I have found one source that says it means a nighttime cocaine session. I can totally buy that during that time. Others say it was just a song about profound loneliness, weariness, and longing for home while touring. This is one of the Stones’ most human and honest recordings. No blues rewrite, no stadium chorus anthems or big hit. Just fatigue, longing, and the sound of a band that knew when not to overdo it.

The song was on Sticky Fingers, and the album peaked at #1 on the Billboard Album Chart, #1 in the UK, and #1 in Canada in 1971. On an album packed with headlines, this quiet closer is the one I return to when I want to hear who they really were in that moment. Beggars Banquet is my favorite Stones album, but Sticky Fingers is probably their artistic best.

If you want to hear a different version…here is the Grateful Dead’s live version of it in 1976.

Mick Jagger: That’s a dream song. Those kinds of songs with kinds of dreamy sounds are fun to do, but not all the time – it’s nice to come back to reality.”

Mick Jagger: “I also came up with an Oriental-Indian riff on my acoustic guitar. At some point during the tour I played it for Mick Taylor, because I thought he would like it. At that point, I really hadn’t intended on recording the song. Sometimes you don’t want to record what you’re writing. You think, ‘This isn’t worth recording, this is just my doodling.’

“When we finished our European tour in October 1970, we were at Stargroves… We were sitting around one night and I started working on what I had initially written. I felt great. I was in my house again and it was very relaxing. So the song became about that – looking forward to returning from a foreign place while looking out the window of a train and the images of the railway line going by in the moonlight.”

Moonlight Mile

When the wind blows and the rain feels cold
With a head full of snow
With a head full of snow
In the window there’s a face you know
Don’t the nights pass slow
Don’t the nights pass slow

The sound of strangers sending nothing to my mind
Just another mad mad day on the road
I am just living to be lying by your side
But I’m just about a moonlight mile on down the road

Made a rag pile of my shiny clothes
Gonna warm my bones
Gonna warm my bones
I got silence on my radio
Let the air waves flow
Let the air waves flow

Oh I’m sleeping under strange strange skies
Just another mad mad day on the road
My dreams is fading down the railway line
I’m just about a moonlight mile down the road

I’m hiding sister and I’m dreaming
I’m riding down your moonlight mile
I’m hiding baby and I’m dreaming
I’m riding down your moonlight mile
I’m riding down you moonlight mile

Let it go now, come on up babe
Yeah, let it go now
Yeah, flow now baby
Yeah move on now yeah

Yeah, I’m coming home
‘Cause, I’m just about a moonlight mile on down the road
Down the road, down the road

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Knightly Murders

March 07, 1975 Season 1 Episode 18

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

In this one, we have another police captain. John Dehner plays Captain Vernon Rausch in this episode. His name is not Steve McQueen or Marlon Brando, but he had an incredible 305 acting credits to his name. A wonderful character actor that you have probably seen in the 1940s through the 1980s. He was in Gunsmoke, Twilight Zone, Mission Impossible, and so many other television shows. Compared to the other captains, he actually talked to Kolchak without making him go away for the most part…but he is “playing out the string” to his career, so to speak, and he gets reporters like Kolchak to do a lot of the investigating for him. Carl calls him out on this.

Another character actress, Lieux Dressler, played Minerva Musso an interior decorator. She livened the episode up with her couple of appearances.

The 18th episode of Kolchak begins with a series of killings in Chicago tied to a museum exhibit of medieval artifacts. Victims are found run through with what appears to be a lance. The police look for a modern suspect using antique weapons, but Kolchak sees a pattern linked to a specific suit of armor on display. Each murder is connected to members of a small historical society, men who share a past dispute that dates back years.

Kolchak digs into the background of the group and learns they were once part of a medieval re-enactment order. One of their former members died under questionable circumstances. The armor in the exhibit had belonged to that man. As more society members are killed, Kolchak concludes that the armor itself is animated, moving on its own to carry out revenge. Witnesses describe a towering knight appearing and vanishing without explanation.

SPOILER Below

In the final act, Kolchak tracks the armor to the museum after hours. He confirms that the spirit of the dead member is driving the killings from within the suit of armor. Using quick thinking rather than force, he disrupts the armor and ends the threat, exposing the truth even as the authorities dismiss the supernatural angle. As usual, Kolchak files his story, and as usual, it is unlikely to see print.

I love this quote by Tony:

Carl Kolchak: What is important is that it takes 420 pounds of pressure – psi. – to crush a telephone. Now, it says right here that a medieval knight in full armor and in full weaponry weighs well over 400 pounds.
Tony Vincenzo: Oh, I feel much better. All my life I wanted to know that a medieval knight could crush a telephone.

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Legacy Of Terror

February 14, 1975 Season 1 Episode 17

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

In this one, Carl Kolchak investigates the brutal, unsolved murders of healthy people whose hearts were removed. It seems that an Aztec cult is offering them as sacrifices for their mummified warrior chief. It’s needed every 52 years in a ten-cycle pattern; this being the ninth, and the fifth and final offering must be a willing one. Pepe Torres seems to be that man, though if Carl has any say in the matter, he may make him change his mind…

Though not tightly plotted, this is still an interesting episode that makes use of its millennium theme and 52-year cycles – we’ll have to watch out for the year 2027! This had some gruesome things in it, especially for network television at the time. If this were on today, it would be an HBO series, I’m sure.

In this episode, we have toothy Erik Estrada (playing Pepe Torres) before his fame in CHiPs. Three lovely ladies, Vicky (Sondra Currie), Nina (Merrie Lynn Ross), and Lona (Dorrie Thomson), who is at Pepe Torre’s beck and call, but the story drops the ball by mostly ignoring them, with only Currie getting much screen time. We also have Sorrell Booke, a wonderful character actor made famous by The Dukes of Hazzard and many other shows he was in.

I must say this. One thing I didn’t understand here. Tony Vincenzo is attending a journalist’s convention and has invited Carl Kolchak along. Kolchak hears of a homicide over his police radio and abruptly leaves. I can’t believe that any editor or company, for that matter, would try to prevent a reporter from going to the scene of a crime. But to give it some credit, it’s not a secret that Kolchak doesn’t exactly listen to Tony anyway, so there would be some frustration on Tony’s part.

You know, it would have been cool if Simon Oakland could have been written to help Kolchak a little more. In fact, Oakland said, “I wish he would, then I could get away from the office, but the scripts have been running this way. They want more of me in the office, but we’ve found we’re competing with the other networks for action, so it’s been all Darren’s (McGavin) show. I suppose I could help him, but…”

“Well, I’m supposed to keep the office scenes alive because they can go dead. I’ve got to bring some organic life into them, and I’m really trying to bring a feeling to it…I wish I had a little more to do in the show. I don’t like it, but I don’t mind.”

Fun Note…Simon Oakland and Darren McGavin got along well both on and off set. They were both featured in a Gunsmoke episode called “The Hostage” in 1965.