Alternative – PowerPop… An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture

Green On Red – Keith Can’t Read and Gravity Talks

I usually just pick one song out, but I couldn’t decide which one. So I thought, hmmm, my blog, my rules today, so we are going to have a two-for-one Saturday! I’ve read where someone said about this band…it’s alt country meets the Replacements. In some songs, that is true. Some of their songs sound epic, and they were reaching for something big…and many times pulled it off.

I have to give WordPress credit for knowing about this band. I missed them in real time, or I would have been buying their records. I found out about them through a fellow blogger and have been listening to them ever since. This is what I wanted the mainstream to be in the 80s and why I listened to more alternative and heartland rockers. Green On Red had a quality that I talked about in earlier posts. You can hear a car wreck coming, but they pull it between the lines just in time!

They had everything I like in a band. A raw sound that was in no way polished. They were always one of those bands that critics loved but radio mostly ignored. They came out of the Paisley Underground scene in the early 1980s, but unlike some of their peers, they were harder into country-rock and the Stones-style rock. They were made up of Dan Stuart (vocals/guitar), Jack Waterson (bass), Van Christian (drums, later of Naked Prey), and Chris Cacavas (organ). It’s basically a marriage of classic rock, punk, psychedelia, country, and garage rock.

Keith Can’t Read never became a hit, but that was the story of Green on Red. They influenced a lot of bands that came later in alt-country and Americana, yet they stayed underground. Dan Stuart had a way of writing about losers, addicts, drifters, and broken friendships without turning it into self-pity. He is a very underrated songwriter. The song was on the album Here Comes The Snakes released in 1989.

Gravity Talks was the title track of the 1983 debut album by Green on Red, and it captured the band right at the point where garage rock, psychedelia, country, and desert atmosphere all collided together. The song never became widely known, but it became one of those tracks roots-rock fans have praised for years. That whole album had a reputation as a lost classic. Critics later described it as reckless, ragged, and impossible to neatly categorize. I love the organ in this one and Dan’s voice. His voice is instantly recognizable.

Keith Can’t Read

Get outta the street right now
Your in the way
The red light has turned to green
I ain’t got all day

There ain’t no pictures in this book
Just dirty pages take a look

If you think your woman is good to you
Think about when you’re away from her
What you put her through

There ain’t no pictures in this book
Just dirty pages take a look

Get off of your knees right now
Your looking up my nose
Girl that ain’t gonna cut no ice
Heaven knows

Gravity Talks

Suppose you really knew
What’s it all about
And someone you thought you knew
He asked you out

I’m not easy I know
Gravity talks

Suppose you really thought
You had it in the bag
And an old man he walked up
And he took it all

I’m not easy I know
Gravity gravity talks

Suppose you really knew
What’s it all about
And someone you thought you knew
He asked you out

I’m not easy I know
Gravity gravity talks

Marah – Walt Whitman Bridge

My friend Ron (Hanspostcard) recommended this band to me not long ago. I had mentioned the V-Roys, and he asked if I had heard of these guys. This is another band that Steve Earle signed to his E-Squared Records in the 1990s. Like the V-Roys song from yesterday, this one took one listen, and I was sold. Ron had said that live, they were a lot like the Replacements but just more alt-country.

They came out of Philadelphia in the late 1990s. The band centered around brothers Dave Bielanko and Serge Bielanko. They mixed rock, folk, soul, and bar-band energy into something that sounded rough around the edges but real. Early records like Let’s Cut The Crap and Hook Up Later Tonight built a small following, but Kids in Philly in 2000 really put them on the map. That album captured city streets, broken people, late nights, and hope, all wrapped inside loud guitars and singalong choruses.

The band toured hard for years. They became known for long, wild live shows and a loyal fan base. Bruce Springsteen even praised them during that period. Marah never quite broke into the mainstream, but they built a reputation as one of those bands that people discovered and held onto like The Replacements, Big Star, and others. They kept pushing their mix of heartland rock and the personal Philadelphia stories.

This song came off the 2005 If You Didn’t Laugh, You’d Cry album. This was recorded after a difficult stretch for the band. They had dealt with industry pressure and changing lineups, and the record felt more stripped down and personal because of it. Dave Bielanko wrote songs about Philadelphia, working-class life, and trying to keep going when things were falling apart around you.

This song captured that feeling perfectly. The Philadelphia bridge itself became a symbol for movement and escape. You are tied to the city, no matter how far you drove. Acoustic guitars, rough vocals, and a live feel. The band never wanted things to be too clean. They liked records that sounded lived-in and not crystal clear. That approach gave the song its emotional weight.

The album did not sell in big numbers, but fans connected deeply with it. This song became their signature song.

Walt Whitman Bridge

Got seven dollars to my name
Got sixteen cigarettes somehow I just ain’t smoked yet
Got two shoelaces and two shoes
I should toss ‘em on the telephone wire as a monument to my blues

I’m goin’ down to get a coffee
Gonna mean one less buck
Maybe six will bring me luck
Got a little shake I kept in the fridge
Gonna drink my bean and walk out smoking on the Walt Whitman Bridge

Faraway from these winter streets
On a cloudless day
Your memory
Blows away

Got a leather wallet on a chain
Got a picture of my lover’s lips before they dried up under my kiss
A prayer in my heart I’m too scared to recite
Oughtta toss that stale loaf of words to the birds as a monument to my whole life

Faraway from these winter streets
On a cloudless day
Your memory, Your memory, Your memory
Blows away

Your memory, Your memory, Your memory
Blows away

Graham Parker – Discovering Japan

The first Graham Parker album I listened to was his debut, Howlin’ Wind. I went in order, and this one was his fourth studio album, and I have enjoyed his albums. I still need to listen to his 90s output. This is one of my favorite albums by him, no doubt. It’s full of great songs like Local Girls, Saturday Nite is Dead, and Protection is just a few of them.

This song was one of the many standout tracks from Squeezing Out Sparks, released in 1979 by Graham Parker and The Rumour. By that point, Parker had already built a reputation as one of the stronger British songwriters to come out of the pub rock era. The song was reportedly inspired by Parker’s fascination with Japanese women and culture during a period when Japan was becoming more visible. Parker later admitted the title and lyrics were partly tongue-in-cheek.

The Rumour was the perfect band for Parker’s vocal style. Guitarist Brinsley Schwarz helped drive the track with sharp rhythm. The producer Jack Nitzsche gave the album an edgy sound that kept the focus on the band. The sessions for Squeezing Out Sparks took place at a time when Parker was frustrated with the music business. He kept getting overlooked commercially compared to some of his contemporaries.

Over the years, this song became one of the songs most associated with Graham Parker. It was never a major hit single, but it became an FM radio favorite and a live staple. Many fans and critics still point to Squeezing Out Sparks as Parker’s strongest album. The album did well as it peaked at #40 on the Billboard Album Charts, #79 in Canada, and #18 in the UK. The album was helped out by the single Local Girls that got a lot of play on MTV but failed to chart.

This video is an entire concert, but I pasted it with Discovering Japan on the time stamp. It’s worth watching the entire concert, but when you click play, you will hear this song.

Discovering Japan

Her heart is nearly breaking
The earth is nearly quaking
The Tokyo taxi’s braking
It’s screaming to a halt
There’s nothing to hold on to
When gravity betrays you
And every kiss enslaves you
She knows how hard a heart grows
Under nuclear shadows

She can’t escape the feeling
Repeating in her head
When after all the urges
Some kind of truth emerges
He felt the deadly surges

Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan

The G.I.’s only used her
They always ran right through her
Giving an Eastern promise
That they could never keep
Seeing a million miles
Between their jokes and smiles
She heard their heart denials

As the tears run sideways down her face, face
Ah, with the time in the tune of a different race, race

And as the flight touches down
My watch says eight oh two
That’s midnight to you
Midnight to you
Midnight to you

I dreamed of long collisions
In Cadillac Panavisions
I shouted sayonara
It didn’t mean goodbye
But lovers turn to posers
Show up in film exposures
Just like in travel brochures

Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan
Discovering Japan

V-Roys – How I Got To Memphis

Steve Earle signed this band to his E-Squared Records label in the 1990s. Once I heard the opening guitar, I knew this was for me. The voice followed, and it hit that alt-country sweet spot. The V-Roys came out of the mid-1990s roots-rock and alt-country scene, led by singer and songwriter Scott Miller. This is one of those bands that just are so easy to listen to. I love when they slot into that mid-90s alt-country sound.

The band formed in 1994 in Knoxville and quickly built a reputation for mixing country, rock, and Southern storytelling. They fit alongside bands like the Bottle Rockets and early Wilco. The V-Roys always seemed tied to the Tennessee backroads and small-town life. By the time they recorded All About Town in 1998, the group had tightened into a strong live band. They were originally the Viceroys, but they were forced to abandon their original name after being threatened with a lawsuit by a Jamaican reggae band that already owned the rights to it.

This song was written by Tom T. Hall. He originally released this song in 1969, and it became one of his signature songs. Instead of trying to modernize it, the V-Roys keep the original rhythm but add electric guitars and a fuller band arrangement that fits the late-1990s Americana sound without losing the song’s feel.

Steve Earle reportedly encouraged the group to trust the songs and not overplay, which worked perfectly on this one. They kept the song grounded, and it worked. That approach made the track fit naturally beside the band’s originals. The band made two studio albums in the 1990s and a compilation album in 2011. This song was an unreleased 90s track on this compilation album called Sooner or Later.

How I Got To Memphis

If you love somebody enough
You’ll follow wherever they go
That’s how I got to Memphis
That’s how I got to Memphis

If you love somebody enough
You’ll go where your heart wants to go
That’s how I got to Memphis
That’s how I got to Memphis
I know if you’d seen her you’d tell me ’cause you are my friend
I’ve got to find her and find out the trouble she’s in

If you tell me that she’s not here
I’ll follow the trail of her tears
That’s how I got to Memphis
That’s how I got to Memphis

She would get mad and she used to say
That she’d come back to Memphis someday
That’s how I got to Memphis
That’s how I got to Memphis

I haven’t eaten a bite
Or slept for three days and nights
That’s how I got to Memphis
That’s how I got to Memphis

I’ve got to find her and tell her that I love her so
I’ll never rest ’til I find out why she had to go

Thank you for your precious time
Forgive me if I start to cryin’
That’s how I got to Memphis

International Submarine Band – Luxury Liner

It’s always great to hear Gram Parsons solo, with the Byrds, or with the Flying Burrito Brothers. I’ve heard of these guys but never listened to them. I’m happy I did now. It’s the so-called country rock, but with harmonizing that sounds great.

They were one of those bands that existed for only a short time but left a legacy. They formed in Los Angeles in 1966, and the band was built around singer, songwriter, and guitarist Gram Parsons. Parsons was interested in mixing traditional country music with rock, soul, and folk, long before the style had a name. At a time when psychedelic rock was dominating California, they were heading in the opposite direction. They were more toward pedal steel guitars and country storytelling.

The original lineup shifted a few times, but the best-known version included Parsons alongside bassist Chris Ethridge, guitarist John Nuese, and drummer Jon Corneal. The group played clubs around Los Angeles during a period when country music was still looked down on by much of the rock crowd. Parsons admired artists like George Jones and Merle Haggard, and he wanted to bring that sound into a younger rock audience. The band shared stages with folk-rock and psychedelic acts while carving out a different identity.

In 1968, the band released its only album, Safe at Home. Though it did not sell well at the time, the record later became recognized as an early blueprint for country rock. By the time the album arrived, Parsons had begun drifting toward The Byrds, where he would push country influences even further on Sweetheart of the Rodeo.

Years later, he revisited this song during his solo period, and it became one of the songs most tied to him. It also found new life when Emmylou Harris recorded it for her 1977 album Luxury Liner, helping introduce it to a wider audience.

Luxary Liner

Well a luxury liner, forty tons of steelIf I don’t find my baby now then I guess I never will

I’ve been a long lost soul for a long long timeI’ve been around, everybody ought to know what’s on my mindYou think I’m lonesome?So do I, so do I

Well I’m the kind of guy that likes to make a livin’ runnin’ ’roundAnd I don’t need a stranger to tell me that my baby’s let me downYou think I’m lonesome?So do I, so do I

Well a luxury liner, forty tons of steelNo one in this whole wide world can change the way I feel

I’ve been a long lost soul for a long long timeI’ve been around, everybody ought to know what’s on my mindYou think I’m lonesome?So do I, so do I

Replacements – Hold My Life

There is a reason I like SNL’s first 5 seasons the best, and to me, they never came near that again. Were some of the later seasons just as funny or funnier? Yes, they were, but more rigidly controlled. Why am I bringing this up on a Replacements post? One word…Risk. I like it when actors, comedians, and musicians are on the edge. You know good and well it could break apart at any moment, but somehow they manage to pull it back together at the last minute. Artists who take chances and run the risk of running off the road are exciting. Sometimes a chaos grenade needs to be pitched in to liven things up. No bigger chaos grenade than the Replacements musically.

One thing that took me a while to learn when I played in various bands, it’s alright to mess up (I don’t mean stupid mental mistakes). As long as you were trying to push the song forward, take chances. I’ve been on stage when a song falls apart. Not a good feeling, but you learn from those things. I noticed the crowd always loved it when you tried different things on the edge.

The crowd was not musicians, but they could feel a car wreck coming, but more often than not, it didn’t come and was pulled back between the lines…but it was the thought of watching a train/car wreck. In other words, the phrase “playing with fire” came into play, but it paid off so many times. After a while, you can control the chaos when you conquer your fear of making mistakes. Then it becomes second nature, and you know how to progress, and the mistakes stop, but the thought/energy doesn’t…so we learned to risk it from time to time. I guess that is why I love the Replacements so much…they perfected that energy. I first learned it from The Who.

The Replacements are famous for that mentality. Everything sounds like it could fall apart, and that’s exactly the point. This song is the opening track from the album Tim from 1985. The Replacements had already built a reputation for mixing chaos with something close to truth. It doesn’t ease you in; it drops you right into the middle of the chaos.

The recording came during sessions with producer Tommy Erdelyi, better known as Tommy Ramone. The Ramones drummer pushed the band toward to something tighter, but you can still hear and feel the sharp edges. I always liked the line “Hold my life until I’m ready to use it.” It sounds like a throwaway at first, but it stuck with me. Back then, it sounded like an attitude. Now it sounds more like a question. There’s frustration in it, maybe a sense of being stuck between wanting control and not knowing what to do with it.

This album was their first major label release on Sire Records in 1984. This would be the last album by the original band because Bob Stinson would be kicked out a couple of years later. Tim was placed 136th on Rolling Stone’s 2003 list of the 500 greatest albums of all time, and 137th in a 2012 revised list. The album peaked at #186 on the Billboard Album Chart in 1986.

Hold My Life

Oooo well, well, wellI bought itDown on all foursLet me crawlIf I want ICould dieOh byMy handTime for decisions to be madeCrack up in the sunLose it in the shade

Razzle dazzle razzle drollTime for this one to come homeRazzle dazzle razzle dieTime for this one to come aliveAnd hold my lifeUntil I’m ready to use itHold my lifeBecause I just might lose itBecause I just might lose itBecause I just might lose it

Well, well, wellAnyone could tellClassic aweA lucky shotOoo-leh-doHate ’emSomeday soonFace ’emTime for decisions to be madeCrack up in the sunLose it in the shade

Just my, just my, just myWe might crack up in the sunBut we’ll lose it in the shade

Razzle dazzle razzle drollTime for this one to come homeRazzle dazze razzle dieTime for this one to come aliveAnd hold my lifeUntil I’m ready to use itHold my lifeBecause I just might lose itBecause I just might lose itHold my lifeHold my lifeHold my, hold my, hold my, hold my, hold

Golden Smog – Son (We’ve Kept Your Room Just the Way You Left It)

I wrote about these guys a year or so ago, and I’ve continued to listen to them. The way I describe them is 90s alt-country mixed with Big Star. You literally get Big Star, Wilco, Uncle Tupelo, and The Jayhawks in this band…plus a member of the Replacements.

The Golden Smog started as a loose collaboration of Minneapolis-based musicians who got together to play cover songs under pseudonyms. The name Golden Smog comes from a character in a Flintstones episode. The band initially played country and rock covers, but it evolved into a serious musical project over time.

Membership in this band has been fluid. They have had Chris Mars (Replacements drummer), Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Louris and Perlman of The Jayhawks, Dave Primer from Soul Asylum, and more. Also in 1997, Jody Stephens became their drummer. He was an original member of Big Star.

This song, to my surprise, was first released by a band from the early seventies called Michaelangelo. They were a baroque-folk band around that time. This song was on their 1971 album One Voice Many.

Lyrically, it is very interesting. A mom sends her son a letter, and he is unsure whether to send a reply and tell her the truth about how he is doing…and it’s not good.

This song was released on their debut EP, On Golden Smog, in 1992. Altogether, they have released 1 EP and 4 albums, with the latest one in 2007 and a “Best Of” package in 2008. They reunited in 2019 and played together last year with Jeff Tweedy.

Son (We’ve Kept Your Room Must the Way You Left It)

Hello Mom, I’m fine, where the sun is dyin’How’s the weather around my old hometown?You seem to worry about my livin’, you say that all’s forgivenWhat’s lost is bound to be found

I hope you don’t expect to see me‘Cause you know I’m very far awayYou know I really miss youBut a man’s gotta make it on his own someday

Sue, she sends her greetings ’bout the school and civic meetingsSays she’s doin’ well in her cellYeah, her brother’s won the race nowAnd he’s proud to show his face now‘Round the corner scene in his paper-doll dreams

And me, I guess I’m livin’Takin’ what’s for the livin’Oh, Mom, you know how I really wishYou could see what’s on my mind, yeah

Yeah, I guess it’s kinda lonely, and I’ve been uptight for moneyBut I’ll make it on my own, stayin’ highYou seem upset about the drugs and thingsI guess I’ve finally found my wingsIt’s my way to be free, don’t think you failed in me

Someday, you’ll understand all thisJust what it is I mean to sayJust don’t try and love meI don’t wanna see you hurt this way

Yes, I’ll be ignorin’, makes a guy feel freeKnowin’ that somebody cares somewhere

Mama, can I mail this and let you know I failed?It’s just not right somehow, oh noI’d rather let you think I’m dead than hung on drugs insteadI’m dyin’ anyhow, and it’s too late now

And I guess there’s a moral somewhereBut I can’t seem to think just nowIf I had to do it overGuess I’d try to change the trial somehow

Lord, it’s really hell when you’re livin’ in a spellAnd nothing’s like it seems in a cocaine dream

Godfathers – She Gives Me Love

There’s no easing into She Gives Me Love. It hits fast and stays there. Released in 1986 on Hit by Hit, the track shows what The Godfathers were about in their early run: tight playing, sharp edges, and no interest in slowing down.

I listened to their first real album Birth, School, Work, Death, and it was fantastic. I then skipped around and listened to some songs throughout their career. Super band… they have a tough, rough Katie bar the door… no-holds-barred sound. I hear some Who, Kinks, Small Faces, Sloan, and other bands in them.

The main reason I like them…the hooks. They know how to develop and use great hooks in the right places. While you have the hooks and melodies, you also have the super-aggressive anger riding on top of everything. They mix it perfectly. In short… abrasive in-your-face rock.

The band, led by Peter Coyne and Chris Coyne, came out of the UK scene with a sound that pulled from R&B and stripped-down rock. You can hear that here. The guitars are direct, and the whole thing feels built for a small room turned up too loud. It doesn’t try to expand beyond that.

This is one I came across later, digging past the usual tracks people mention. It felt like finding something still wired tight after all these years. No buildup, no release, just straight through. Sometimes that’s all you need.

She Gives Me Love

Don’t claim to understand herI wonder what she’s doing with meDon’t know what she does with the rest of her timeBut she gives it to me for free

She gives me loveShe gives me love

She never takes my moneyBut she always steals my timeShe’s the kind of a girl that if you gave her the worldShe’d say it wasn’t worth a dime

She gives me loveShe gives me love

It’s not easy to explain itThe effect she has on meMake a dumb man talk and a blind man seeThat sweet little mystery

She gives me loveShe gives me love

Tragically Hip – Fiddler’s Green

I heard this song while listening to Road Apples last year or so, and I knew I wanted to come back to it. A shout-out to deKe, who recommended this album to me. This one is such a beautiful and sad song. When I looked up the inspiration, I sadly understood.

There’s a quiet weight (best way I can describe it) to Fiddler’s Green that sets it apart in the catalog from what I heard of The Tragically Hip. It was released on Road Apples in 1991; it comes in soft and stays there. No huge dynamic, just a steady song that feels epic at times.

The song was written by Gord Downie after the loss of his 3 year old young nephew. That context explains the tone and meaning without needing to be spelled out in the lyrics. The band keeps the arrangement simple, light acoustic guitar, space between the notes, and a vocal that sounds like it’s being carried more than delivered. Producer Don Smith, who had worked with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, helped guide the sessions toward a more direct sound, and this track benefits from that restraint.

The album was recorded in New Orleans, and the environment shaped parts of the album, but this song feels separate from the rest. While other tracks were more into groove and band interplay, this song is kept simpler. It’s closer to a live recording in spirit, one voice, one guitar, and the room around it. The band understood it didn’t need more.

I didn’t hear this one right away when I first got into Road Apples. It was one of those tracks you come back to later, and it hits you differently. The first thing I thought was how different it was. The album peaked at #1 in Canada in 1991. The album had 6 singles released from it, but this one wasn’t one of them, and that is a shame.

I’m not an expert on this band, but after listening to the debut album and then this one. It sounded like a band settling into who they were. It’s an excellent album.

Fiddler’s Green

One, two, three, four, one, two

September seventeenFor a girl I know it’s Mother’s DayHer son has gone aleeAnd that’s where he will stayWind on the weathervaneTearing blue eyes sailor-meanAs Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrainFor a boy in Fiddler’s Green

His tiny knotted heartWell, I guess it never worked too goodThe timber tore apartAnd the water gorged the woodYou can hear her whispered prayerFor men at masts that always leanThe same wind that moves her hairMoves a boy through Fiddler’s Green

Oh, nothing’s changed anywayOh, nothing’s changed anywayOh, any time today

He doesn’t know a soulThere’s nowhere that he’s really beenBut he won’t travel long aloneNo, not in Fiddler’s GreenBalloons all filled with rainAs children’s eyes turn sleepy-meanAnd Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrainFor a boy in Fiddler’s Green

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”.

Madness – One Step Beyond

In the 1980s, I was watching MTV, and I came across this band playing a song called Our House and I loved it. Not only did I like the song, but the bands irrevelant humor wore off on me. They didn’t take themselves seriously at all, and I respect that.

When this song came out in 1979, it sounded like a party breaking out in the middle of the British charts. Madness was part of the late-1970s ska revival that grew out of London clubs. Their version of this was actually a remake of a 1964 instrumental by Jamaican artist Prince Buster. Madness kept the structure but turned it into something louder and more chaotic. The song begins with Chas Smash shouting “Don’t watch that, watch this!” before the band launches into the riff. From that moment, it feels like a call to the dance.

It’s a fast ska rhythm, brass sounds, and a repeating organ line. Unlike many pop songs of the time, there is very little singing. Instead, the horns carry the melody while the band pushes the tempo forward. It captures the mix of Jamaican ska and British pub-rock attitude that defined the early Madness sound. The record was produced by Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley, who helped give the band a tight but lively sound.

The video, with the group dancing and marching through London streets, helped define their image. Madness were not trying to be serious rock stars. They looked like a gang of friends who started a band and brought the party with them. This was the title cut off of their debut album, released in 1979. The album peaked at #2 on the UK Album Charts and #27 in New Zealand that year. The song peaked at #7 in the UK.

Here is a later live version. The crowd was ready!

One Step Beyond

(Hey you, don’t watch that,
Watch this!
This is the heavy heavy monster sound
The nutsiest sound around
So if you’ve come in off the street
And you’re beginning to feel the heat
Well listen buster
You’d better to start to move your feet
To the rockin’est, rock-steady beat
Of Madness
One step beyond!)

(One step beyond!…)

Pixies – Gouge Away

I started following this band in the 1990s after hearing the song “Here Comes Your Man,” which caught my power-pop ear. It was on their 1989 album, Doolittle. I love the dynamics in this one and the harder style.

By 1989, Pixies were no longer an underground surprise. After Surfer Rosa, they went into the studio to make a tighter, more direct record. That record became Doolittle. The sessions took place in late 1988 in Boston, with Gil Norton producing. Norton pushed the band toward precision. He said he focused on structure and dynamics. Gouge Away benefited from that approach.

Black Francis brought the song in with its biblical reference; he drew from the story of Samson and Delilah. But in the studio, the band worked on feeling more than sticking strictly to that concept. The verses were kept restrained on purpose, so the chorus would hit harder. That is where the dynamics came into play. I like the sound of Kim Deal’s driving bass in this one. Also, I have to mention, the guitar solo is very unique to me. I love the way they fit that solo in with the sustain.

Unlike some of the raw edges on Surfer Rosa, Doolittle was built with layering in mind. Multiple vocal takes were tracked to get Francis’s half-whisper right before the explosion of the refrain. The final mix keeps plenty of space in the verses, then opens up when the band surges. As the closing track, Gouge Away was put there to leave a mark. It ends the album the way the Pixies often worked in the studio at that point, controlled and sharp.

The album peaked at #98 in the Billboard Album Charts, #8 in the UK, and #18 in New Zealand in 1989.

Gouge Away

Gouge awayYou can gouge awayStay all dayIf you want to

Missy aggravationSome sacred questionsYou stroke my locksSome marijuanaIf you got some

Gouge awayYou can gouge awayStay all dayIf you want to

Sleeping on your bellyYou break my armsYou spoon my eyesBeen rubbing a bad charmWith holy fingers

Gouge awayYou can gouge awayStay all dayIf you want to

Chained to the pillarsA three day partyI break the wallsAnd kill us allWith holy fingers

Gouge awayYou can gouge awayStay all dayIf you want to

Wilco – How to Fight Loneliness

I first heard of Wilco from the song Secret of the Sea by Billy Bragg and Wilco for the album Mermaid Avenue Volume II. I started to follow them more closely and learned a lot from bloggers about them.

Wilco was formed in 1994 in Chicago, Illinois, following the breakup of Uncle Tupelo. The band was founded by Jeff Tweedy, along with former Uncle Toledo members John Stirratt, Ken Coomer, and Max Johnston. Over the years, Wilco evolved from an alternative country sound into a more experimental and genre-blending style. After this album, their sound changed from the alt-country sound they had with Uncle Tupelo.

What first jumps out with this song is the acoustic in front with a small amount of reverb. It takes me back a little to John Lennon’s version of Stand By Me. I can’t get enough of that sound. The song started with Tweedy at the piano. It was written around a repeating chord pattern and a vocal line that doesn’t try to do too much.

This was on the album Summerteeth, released in 1999. It was their 3rd studio album. From listening to them recently, Wilco had already moved past the alt-country tag that followed them after Uncle Tupelo. Being There opened the door. Summerteeth walked through it and didn’t look back. I really like this album.

From what I’ve read, there was tension during the making of the album. Jay Bennett’s role grew, and he and Tweedy wrote most of the album. So did the friction. Multi-tracking replaced some of the earlier live feel. Drummer Ken Coomer has said parts were built in sections rather than full takes. The band was evolving in real time, and not everyone was comfortable with the shift. Still, the focus was on getting the songs right, even if that meant reworking them again and again, and they did a great job.

The album peaked at #78 on the Billboard Album Charts and #38 in the UK in 1999.

How To Fight Loneliness

How to fight loneliness
Smile all the time
Shine you teeth til meaningless
Sharpen them with lies

And whatevers going down
Will follow you around
Thats how you fight loneliness
You laugh at every joke
Drag your blanket blindly
Fill your heart with smoke
And the first thing that you want
Will be the last thing you ever need
Thats how you fight it

Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time
Just smile all the time

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

Desert Rose Band – She Don’t Love Nobody

A few months ago, around September, I met Arthur when he was commenting on my blog. He is better known as purplegoatee2684b071ed. We have had some wonderful conversations, and I told him if you ever want to post a music post…I would be honored to do it. He took me up on my offer, and he wrote up a post about The Desert Rose Band. I do appreciate Arthur writing this up. Here is Arthur!

I am Purplesomething or other. My name is Art Schaak. I have no idea where WordPress got the name for me. When I found this incredible blog I signed up for WordPress and they told me my e-mail, which is fairly unique, was already assigned to this Purple guy. purplegoatee2684b071ed, that’s what they call me. For years I had a full beard, now I am clean shaven (when I shave) and I’ve never sported a goatee. I have been called an old goat, and old other things, and I honestly find it hard to deny.

I have been reading and commenting on this blog since September of 2025, a relative newcomer. I am much more impressed with the community and its individual members than you should be of me.

I am 72 years old. I have been a big music fan as long as I can remember. I skirted the peripheries of the music industry in the mid 70s until I realized I was not a follower of fashion, dedicated or not. I know a little about this stuff, am horribly opinionated, and have very eclectic tastes.

The Desert Rose Band was Chris Hillman, Herb Pedersen, John Jorgenson, Bill Bryson, Jay Dee Maness, and Steve Duncan. This song, written by John Hiatt, reached #3 on Billboard’s US Hot Country Songs and was awarded the 1989 Best Country Performance by a Duo or Group Grammy. It wasn’t their biggest hit, but it is my favorite.

The magic lies in the music. Give it a listen. It is the energy. The harmonies are tight. The performance is together. It might be too perfect, considering some of the opinions offered elsewhere on this blog, but I can’t call that a problem. This tune just delightfully pops along.

Hiatt’s lyrics are a lot of fun. Yes, I am a fan and have been since his Hanging Around The Observatory debut on Epic way back in the 70’s. By the way, Hiatt did two songs on the second White Duck album on Uni that I was amazed I found at a 25-cent parking lot sale at Rhino Records; I played it once, and that was more than it deserved.

Jorgeson continues to play, but his recent performances in the Los Angeles area have been with his bluegrass ensemble and his hot jazz ensemble. A long way from the Desert Rose Band or his tenure with the Elton John band. He is a great guitar player with an even greater sense of the overall music he is producing, kind of like Ry Cooder, where one can groove on his expertise or just be amazed at the incredible music he is putting out.

By the way, the web says the last performance of the Desert Rose Band, Live at the Country Music Hall of Fame CMA Theater, October 2, 2022, is due to be released in March of 2026.

And Chris Hillman seems extremely active (considering his age and such), according to his website, chrishillman.com.

Like I said, give it a listen.

She Don’t Love Nobody

From my humble point of view
She don’t love nobody
Nothin’ borrowed, nothin’ blue
She don’t love nobody

Behind the green eyes I detect
She don’t love nobody
Her heart no kiss could resurrect
She don’t love nobody

All of her life
She’s been told to hang on tight
There’s a man who’d make her his wife
But she’s not interested in anything mama said

She throws passion to the wind
She don’t love nobody
She don’t give out but she don’t give in
She don’t love nobody

And if I could I’d make her mine
But she don’t love nobody
And she would never walk that line
She don’t love nobody

All of my life
I’ve been told to hang on tight
There’s a girl who’d be my wife
But I’m not interested in anything mama said

I want the girl who does not need
She don’t love nobody

She’s the one my heart receives
She don’t love nobody

She don’t love nobody
She don’t love nobody