Who – Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

These sixties singles by the Who are so exciting. They sounded different from their peers and were cutting their own path. This was The Who’s second single. It was the follow-up to I Can’t Explain. When this was sent to their American record label to distribute, they sent it back, assuming the feedback meant there was something wrong with it.

Townshend turned what most engineers considered a mistake into an instrument. Those piercing squeals and roars mid-song weren’t accidents; they were the sound of pop music evolving in real time. The Who didn’t want to sound clean or polite; they wanted to sound like the inside of a jet engine, and they nailed it.

The Who’s early singles like Can’t Explain, The Kids Are Alright, Substitute, I’m A Boy, and A Legal Matter don’t get the airplay that their later music does. They were innovative at the time with feedback, distortion, and Moon’s aggressive drumming.

Townshend later said the song was about personal freedom, and that’s exactly what it feels like. The right to be loud, to be different, to not apologize for who you are. You can trace the line from this track straight through to everything that came after: The Jam, The Clash, The Raspberries, Big Star… all carrying that same spark of defiance.

This song was written by Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey. It was one of the few times they wrote together. Super session man Nicky Hopkins was on the piano.

The song peaked at #10 in the UK in 1965.

Roger Daltrey: ‘Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere’ was the first song when we attempted to get that noise onto a record and that was a good deal of time before Hendrix had even come to England, the American pressing plant sent it back thinking it was a mistake. We said, ‘No, this is the f—ing noise we want. CUT IT LOUD!'”

“We were doing this feedback stuff, even before that. We’d be doing blues songs and they’d turn into this freeform, feedback, jazzy noise. Pete was getting all these funny noises, banging his guitar against the speakers. Basically, the act that Hendrix is famous for came from Townshend, pre-‘I Can’t Explain.'”

Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

I can go anyway, way I choose
I can live anyhow, win or lose
I can go anywhere, for something new
Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose

I can do anything, right or wrong
I can talk anyhow, and get along
Don’t care anyway, I never lose
Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose

Nothing gets in my way
Not even locked doors
Don’t follow the lines
That been laid before
I get along anyway I dare
Anyway, anyhow, anywhere

I can go anyway, way I choose
I can live anyhow, win or lose
I can do anything, for something new
Anyway, anyhow, anywhere I choose

(Oooh) anyway
(Oooh) Anyway I choose, yeah
(Oooh) Anyway I want to go
(Oooh) I want to go ‘n do it myself
Do it myself
Do it myself, yeah
Anyway, way I choose
Anyway I choose
Yeah, yeah
Ain’t never gonna lose the way I choose
The way I choose
The way I choose

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Mr. R.I.N.G.

January 10, 1975 Season 1 Episode 12

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

***Since it’s the Christmas season and most people are watching seasonal programs and are rushing around, Kolchak will return on January 9th, 2026! I do apologize for the interruption, but I thought it was best. We only have 8 more to go.***

The episode centers on an escaped experimental android named Mr. R.I.N.G. (R.I.N.G. stands for Robomatic Internalized Nerve Ganglia), a government project that went off the rails. Kolchak stumbles onto the story because he missed the day before fishing, so a huge story was given to a co-worker. Kolchak was handed the chore of writing an obituary for a scientist.  But of course, he investigated it, and it was a murdered scientist that spiraled into a cover-up with secrecy, classified files, and shredded evidence. The threat here is technology running amok, walking the streets with a purpose no one fully understands. Mr Ring is basically AI before AI. He learns as he goes. 

The android itself is unsettling because it isn’t really bad. Unlike the show’s monsters, Mr. R.I.N.G. appears to be struggling to understand its own purpose and emotions. The more Kolchak uncovers, the clearer it becomes that the danger comes from the government forces that created it, not from the robot. This dynamic gives the episode a tragic feel, as though Kolchak is chasing a victim who never asked to be born. Frankenstein comes to mind with this show as well because the “monster” is trying to find itself and is not inherently bad. 

It feels close to Westworld, early Terminator, and a touch of The Stepford Wives.  Darren McGavin’s performance is especially sharp here, because Kolchak’s sarcasm bounces off humorless officials and tight-lipped agents who refuse to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary. His frustration grows as every lead is buried under regulations. One thing that is different in this episode is that Tony, his boss, is forced to believe in Kolchak this time. The government threatens the newspaper if Tony lets Kolchak continue investigating this. 

SPOILERS BELOW

The ending drives home the show’s theme: truth is buried by the system. Mr. R.I.N.G. is erased like a clerical error. Kolchak gets close to exposing everything, only to watch the evidence vanish once again. He is left with nothing except a story no one will print.

Trivia

A little trivia for you, the Tyrell Institute is used as the headquarters in this episode, and a decade later, the name would be used in Blade Runner. Many fans and critics view the Tyrell Institute in Kolchak as a direct precursor or inspiration for the Tyrell Corporation in Blade Runner, sharing themes of artificial life and corporate control over synthetic beings.

January 9th episode HERE.

…

Max’s Drive-In Movie – It’s A Gift

So roll down the window at Max’s Drive-In, grab some popcorn, and toast the man who proved that laughter isn’t always about joy; sometimes, it’s about pain and survival. This was the first W.C. Fields movie I ever watched, years ago, and I wasn’t disappointed. It contains no sentimentality…just one man’s pursuit of peace. In this case, an orange grove he has his eyes on. When people think of W.C. Fields, this is probably not the movie they usually think of first, but to me…it’s brilliant!

Sometimes, you don’t need romance or a difficult plot. It’s WC Fields trying to get a few minutes of peace and quiet. It’s a Gift is one of those hidden little gems, a film that’s basically one long bad day stretched from start to finish.

This film takes place in the middle of the Depression, when a grouchy grocer named Harold Bissonette (that’s “Biss-uh-NAY,” thank you very much) dreamed of escaping his nagging wife, children, and blind customers by buying himself an orange grove in California. Not a mansion, just fruit trees and some peace. But in Fields’ universe, that doesn’t happen. His wife nags, his customers interrupt his naps, and his children treat him like a piece of furniture. It’s a Gift may be ninety years old, but it still feels right.

He plays the definition of the henpecked husband, muttering under his breath. The movie is like a string of brilliant sketches stitched together by pure exasperation. That would be my definition of it. The “porch sleep scene,” where Fields tries to take a nap on his back porch as milkmen, salesmen, and children launch an invasion. The rhythm, the timing, was pure gold.

Then there’s the grocery store scene, the poor man behind the counter trying to deal with the infuriating Mr. Muckle. He is the blind and almost deaf man who wrecks everything he touches. It’s slapstick with a slight mean streak, but Fields plays it straight, and it worked. 

This was in the middle of Hollywood’s “screwball comedy” decade, when the big studios were giving audiences zany escapism to forget the Depression. Fields, though, offered something a little more grounded and darker. He wasn’t Cary Grant tripping over furniture in a tux; he was a tired grocer stepping on a roller skate at 6 a.m. 

Critics in 1934 didn’t quite know what to do with him. Some thought he was too grumpy. But audiences loved it. The film became one of Paramount’s biggest comedies that year. It’s now considered one of Fields’ great films, alongside The Bank Dick and Never Give a Sucker an Even Break.

The infamous Mr Muckle

The Front Porch Scene

…

Chuck Prophet – Bobby Fuller Died For Your Sins

Since I posted Chuck Prophet, I haven’t stopped listening. This song is probably one of the catchiest songs I’ve heard in a long time. All of his songs are so melodic. This one is like a sermon wrapped in a three-minute rock song. I’ve been waiting to post this since I posted my first song by him in August.

Bobby Fuller had a giant hit with I Fought the Law before dying under suspicious circumstances. Fuller was found dead in the front seat of his mother’s car shortly after I Fought The Law became a huge hit. His death was ruled a suicide, but there were signs of foul play.  The investigation was tainted, leaving the circumstances of his death a mystery, and rumors continue to this day.

Prophet uses Fuller as a symbol for anyone hurt by the music industry or just random bad luck. He made a mixture of homage and a warning. When he recorded this song, he wanted nothing too polished. He and co-producer Brad Jones focused on capturing energy instead of perfection.

Prophet said he wrote it in a stream-of-consciousness style, from his own frustration with the American culture eating its young. He kept coming back to the idea that stories like Fuller’s get swept under the rug. They have been filed away as a kind of trivia instead of a tragedy.

The song was the title track to his 2017 album. The album peaked at #24 on the US Top Alternative Album Sales Charts, #6 on the Heatseekers Album Charts, and #2 on the UK Americana Album Charts.

Bobby Fuller Died For Your Sins

Cruising through El Paso, carrying a heavy load
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
And a cop shoots a kid on a hot summer morn
Bobby Fuller died for your sins

I could be anywhere when I hear that sound
Take me back, pretty baby
Oh your daddy, he’s so alone

I hear the record crackle, the needle skips and jumps
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
And I ain’t never seen a movie that moved me half as much
Bobby Fuller died for your sins

I could be anywhere when I hear that sound
Take me back, pretty baby
Oh your daddy, he’s so alone

Together we stand, divided we fall
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
And I wish my little sister she could be here now
Bobby Fuller died for your sins

They say that someone’s gonna have to pay the price of love
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
I don’t know why they gotta pay it or who they gotta pay it to, but
Bobby Fuller died for your sins

I could be anywhere when I hear that sound
Take me back, pretty baby
Oh your daddy, he’s so alone

Bobby Fuller died for your sins
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
Bobby Fuller died for your sins
Bobby Fuller died for your sins

Meteors – Shout So Loud

How would I describe this band in one word? FUN. That sums it up perfectly, plus a really tight trio. The Meteors are a perpetual Halloween. They combine rockabilly, monsters, SciFi, and punk, with an energetic and fun vibe. The band called it psychobilly, and they weren’t kidding. If you ever wondered what would happen if Gene Vincent rose and decided to visit the punk clubs of London, you’d get something like The Meteors. 

I had forgotten about this band. Years ago, I remember stumbling across Shout So Loud on an old cassette that looked like it had survived a fire. The label was half-melted, but when it kicked in overdrive, I knew I’d found something great here. This wasn’t Dad’s rockabilly. The Meteors took the twang and swing of the 1950s and drove it through a wall. This band has released 24 studio albums, 29 singles and LPs, 15 live albums, and 21 live albums. They are still releasing albums; in 2024, they released 40 Days a Rotting. This song was on their debut album In Heaven released in 1981.

The band was formed in 1980 and was one of the founders of “psychobilly.” The band was founded by P. Paul French on guitar, Nigel Lewis on electric and upright bass, and Mark Robertson on drums. They released their first album in 1981 and continue to this day. P. Paul French is the only original member still with the band. There was also a Dutch new wave band called The Meteors that was active from 1977 to 1982..but you won’t get them confused because they were power pop.

If you want something different, this is the band to listen to. You have rockabilly as the root of this tree, but it has that punk vibe stamped all over it. Below is their debut album.

I couldn’t find a good live version of this song, so I’m posting a short clip of them live.

Shout So Loud

Well they let me out that place I was
I was being good because
There ain’t nothing to do from night till noon
Then sit here in my nice soft room
The doctor said he’d fix my head
I’m gonna shout so loud I’m gonna wake up the dead

Well those great minds the can’t be wrong
Though I’ve been crazy all along
Now I’m normal just like you
Tell you what I’m gonna do
Find a wall and bang my head
Then I’ll shout so loud I’m gonna wake up the dead

I’m gonna find a bar and a woman to
And have a real good time
Gonna jump and shout and knock myself out
Yeah really lose my mind
Get so crazy out of head
And shout so loud I’m gonna wake up the dead

Then they take me back again
But you said that I was sane
Take be back and lock me up
And make sure that the doors tight shut
The walls are soft I can’t hurt my head
But I can shout so loud I’m gonna wake up the dead

….

John Fogerty – I Saw It On TV

The coon-skin caps, Yankee bats, the Hound Dog man’s big start
The A-Bomb fears, Annette had ears, I lusted in my heart

When I bought the Centerfield album in 1985, this was one of the first songs that I listened to. Despite the hits like Centerfield and Old Man Down the Road, the pop culture gold in this song drew me in. That shouldn’t surprise any of my readers about me, even in 1985.

This is the song that broke Fogerty’s writer’s block he had for a decade. He wrote the rest of the album after this song. It chronicles history from the 50s to the 70s. While fishing, he started to think about the things he’s seen on TV as a young boy: the Eisenhower inauguration, the Yankees, the Mickey Mouse Club, Elvis Presley, The Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show, etc. The story continued on through the sixties, Vietnam, and then Watergate.

Musically, it is classic John Fogerty with acoustic guitars underneath that golden voice. There is no clutter or overproduction, just the songwriter and the story. The track moves like a scrapbook, each verse turning another page. Fogerty always had a knack for pulling feelings out of memories. He does it here like he is sitting across from you around the kitchen table.

I Saw It On TV was not a hit but a very good album track. The song concludes with the riff of the intro of “Who’ll Stop the Rain.” The Centerfield album peaked at #1 in the Billboard Album Charts, #2 in Canada, #13 in New Zealand, and #48 in the UK in 1985. The song was recorded at The Plant Studios in San Francisco.

Robert Hilburn from The Los Angeles Times:  “The album’s most affecting tune, however, may be “I Saw It on T.V,” a look at the way television has programmed so many shared emotions into the post-’50’s generation. In the song, Fogerty traces the liberating effect of Presley’s arrival, the idealism of the Kennedy years, the loss of innocence after his assassination, the celebration of the Beatles, the tragedy of Vietnam and the corruption of Watergate.”

I Saw It On TV

They sent us home to watch the show comin’ on the little screen
A man named Ike was in the white house, big black limousine
There were many shows to follow, from ‘Hooter’ to Doodyville
Though I saw them all, I can’t recall which cartoon was real

The coon-skin caps, Yankee bats, the Hound Dog man’s big start
The A-Bomb fears, Annette had ears, I lusted in my heart
A young man from Boston set sail the new frontier
And we watched the Dream dead-end in Dallas
They buried innocence that year

I know it’s true, oh so true
‘Cause I saw it on TV

We gathered round to hear the sound comin’ on the little screen
The grief had passed, the old men laughed, and all the girls screamed
‘Cause four guys from England took us all by the hand
It was time to laugh, time to sing, time to join the band

But all too soon, we hit the moon, and covered up the sky
They built their bombs, and aimed their guns, and still I don’t know why
The dominoes tumbled and big business roared
Every night at six, they showed the pictures and counted up the score

I know it’s true, oh so true
‘Cause I saw it on TV

The old man rocks among his dreams, a prisoner of the porch
“The light” he says
“At the end of the tunnel was nothin’, but a burglar’s torch”
And them that was caught in the cover are all rich and free
But they chained my mind to an endless tomb
When they took my only son from me

I know it’s true, oh so true
‘Cause I saw it on TV
I know it’s true, oh so true
‘Cause I saw it on TV

“You shouldn’t like music that was made before you were born”

I thought I would do something different today. I was reminded of this by the phrase, “it was before my time.” Movies and music fall into this category. I do know people who will not watch movies made “before their time.” I don’t think many of my readers would agree to this statement, but who knows?

I had a co-worker in the early 2000s (Sam) tell me that I shouldn’t like music that was before my time because it was unnatural (yes, he said that). I was first kinda of amused and shocked. I like Sam a lot, and we would talk a lot; he is a smart fellow. However, on this point, I didn’t understand. Why? Is there some unwritten law that I can’t like 1950s or 1960s music up to 1967, when I was born?  That cut off some of the best music of the 20th century and beyond.

He grew up in the 80s, as I did,  and was probably around 5 or so years younger than me. I’ve seen other people act the same way. If it were before they were born, then they would not give it a second listen. If a movie is black and white, they act as if they are near a radiation leak!

 I think the subject centered around how I loved 50s and 60s music and The Beatles, The Who, The Stones, and The Kinks. He said I should be listening to music from my teenage years (well, I WAS…60s music was my soundtrack growing up), but I DID listen to the top 40 when I was a teenager, which, to me, didn’t live up to those bands to any degree or form. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare Men Without Hats to those 1960s bands. It was hard to stomach some of the ’80s for me, but not all. Now I’m busy catching up on music I missed that wasn’t on Top 40 radio at the time. I did find an oasis in the 80s, alternative music like The Replacements and REM…and the classic bands.

I still want to find other music and movies I like. Why would age have any effect on the music, whether we like it or not? That doesn’t mean I don’t like new music. I have posted newer bands here before who have just released albums. If it’s good, it doesn’t matter what era it came from, at least not to me. Christian, Graham, and Lisa all posted some newer songs that I liked. With movies, yes, I find some I like. I just saw Weapons and loved it, plus there are others.

I’m not putting people down at all who think like that. Hey, if that is what they believe, more power to them. I never believed in criticizing people for their opinions, music, or otherwise. Whatever blows their hair back.

Anyway, what do you think? 

…

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Horror in the Heights

December 20, 1974 Season 1 Episode 11

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

This episode is the most highly rated episode of the series. It is a good episode and will take you down the path where things are not what they seem. The setting is Roosevelt Heights, a Chicago neighborhood largely populated by elderly Jewish residents, and a series of gruesome killings quickly points to something beyond ordinary. Kolchak goes past the police explanations and discovers details about creatures from Indian folklore. It’s a darker, more atmospheric episode, leaning heavily into folklore.

The monster at the heart of the episode is a Raksasha, a shape-shifting demon from Hindu mythology. It doesn’t just kill; it appears to its victims as someone they trust, lowering their guard before striking. That twist gives the story tension, because every familiar face might not be what it seems. The creature’s appearance, when revealed, is not pretty. Kolchak learns the demon has been feeding on residents, and the community tensions spread in the neighborhood it making it easier for the monster. This reminds me of Pennywise from IT, who was also a shapeshifting creature.

As Kolchak digs deeper, he crosses paths with Mr. Furlin and a community group determined to protect their homes from crime, though they don’t realize the real threat isn’t human. When Kolchak finally confronts the Raksasha, the showdown relies on knowledge rather than brute force. I was relieved because I thought he might have made a mistake…But I won’t give that away.

What makes this episode stand out is that it isn’t just about a monster… It’s about a community losing trust in itself. The demon feeds not only on flesh, but on fear and isolation. With its blend of folklore and social tension, it remains one of the most memorable and unsettling episodes in the Kolchak series.

Get a head start on next week’s episode here.

Tubes – Talk To Ya Later

I first found out about the Tubes through MTV in the mid-80s. The song was She’s A Beauty and MTV loved that video. It was in their rotation for a long long time. Just like radio, they could wear out a song as well.

It’s hard to describe this band. Prog, art, theatrical, rock, pop, and everything in between. In 1981, The Tubes were tightening their sound, paring back the theatrical music, and letting producer David Foster make the music sound more commercially viable. The album was Completion Backward Principle, and it was their fifth album. This is when their popularity started to rise.

The Tubes formed in 1973 and were a band with a cult following and a reputation for the most elaborate live shows around. But they weren’t exactly making any money with expenses. When Capitol Records wanted to talk to them, the band saw a chance to remake themselves. What they didn’t expect was the full corporate makeover that awaited them, complete with producer David Foster, determined to rebuild The Tubes.

The concept album The Completion Backward Principle actually began as a joke. Capitol’s marketing department gave the band an old corporate sales-training pamphlet. The Tubes built an entire album around it. Slogans, uniforms, everything boiled down to the idea that rock and roll could pretend to be a corporate product and still be good. It was satire, but it was also radio-friendly.

The album produced the band’s biggest hit to date, Don’t Want to Wait Anymore, and gave them a new touring identity built around that corporate feel. The band reinvented itself by streamlining its songs.

Toto’s Steve Lukather lent a hand on this song by playing guitar and bass. That guy was everywhere in the 1980s, playing on practically every hit you heard. Yes, I exaggerated, but not by much (over 1500 different records). Their keyboard player is known to Grateful Dead fans. Vince Welnick played with The Tubes from 1973 to 1989 and then joined the Dead in 1990.

The album peaked at #36 on the Billboard album charts, #26 in Canada, and #4 in New Zealand in 1981. This song peaked at #7 on the Billboard Mainstream Rock Charts.

Talk To You Later

As I mentioned near the close of the last recordThis record you are now playingIs another example of the completion backward principleIf you can possibly manage the timePlease play both sides at one meeting

I met her on the stripIt was another lost weekendThe band was too slickAnd the people were twisted

So I asked her for a dateShe reluctantly agreedThen we went to my placeAnd she never did leave

She won’t even miss me when she’s goneBut that’s OK with me, I’ll cry later on

It’s been six monthsShe hasn’t shut up onceI’ve tried to explainShe’s driving me insane

She won’t even miss me when she’s goneBut that’s OK with me, I’ll cry later on

Talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll talk to ya laterJust save it for another guyOh, talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll just see you around

Get outI’m telling you nowDo you catch my drift?What could be plainer than this?

Nothing more to be saidWrite me a letter insteadI don’t mean to be cruelBut I’m finished with you

She won’t even miss me when she’s goneBut that’s OK with me, I’ll cry later on

I’ll talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll talk to ya laterJust save it for another guyI’ll talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll just see you around

I’ll talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll talk to ya laterJust save it for another guyI’ll talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll just see you around

I’ll talk to ya laterDon’t wanna hear it again tonightI’ll talk to ya laterJust save it, save it for another guy

…

Little Village – Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working

All I had to do was read off the members, and I knew I would like this band. Who were the members? Ry Cooder, John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, and Jim Keltner. Each one of them is a legend, but when they teamed up in 1992, they made music that felt effortless.. This song plays like an anthem for anyone who has ever tried to get something done while the world keeps knocking at the door.

When Little Village came together in the early 1990s, it wasn’t a typical supergroup situation. Ry Cooder, John Hiatt, Nick Lowe, and Jim Keltner had already worked together in the studio. They worked on Hiatt’s 1987 album Bring the Family, a record cut in just four days. This album would be called Little Village. 

Around 1991, discussions began about whether those four players could try something more equal and together as a band. Nick Lowe summed up the vibe when he said, “We only needed a name and a reason.” The name came from a 1930s reference, but the reason was simply that they liked working with each other. This wasn’t a record-company idea, and it wasn’t nostalgia.

While the sessions were friendly, the band admitted that being equals instead of backups slowed things down. Decisions took longer, and sometimes a song would go in five directions before landing on one. Lowe joked that it was like “four people in the passenger seat reaching for the wheel.” Critics generally liked it, although some expected another John Hiatt album and were surprised by its humor and different musical turns. Fans of any one member found something to enjoy. The album even received a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Performance by a Duo or Group.

Nick Lowe did say it wasn’t as good as it could have been. He blamed it on having too much time to record it. The album peaked at #22 in the UK and #66 on the Billboard Album Charts in 1992. Over time, this album has developed a cult following, especially among fans of Hiatt and Cooder.

This next video has a bonus live song, She Runs Hot. Enjoy Ry Cooder’s slide before they break into Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working.

Don’t Bug Me When I’m Working

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
I don’t work for you

If you bug me at work I can’t get it done
Too tired, baby to have any fun
You got complaints, better keep ’em hid
Don’t come ’round here mess with the kid

Don’t bug me when I’m sleepin’
I’m sleepin’, I’m sleepin’
Don’t bug me when I’m sleepin’
‘Cause I need my rest
Don’t bug me when I’m

Don’t bug me when I’m got to buzz awhile
I said don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Now you bug me at home when I’m tired and beat
Can’t even stand on my own two feet
You call on the phone, you make me uptight
And I can’t even work with my baby at night

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
Got a job to do

Don’t bug me when I’m working
I’m working, I’m working
Don’t bug me when I’m working
I don’t work for you

Don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
Don’t bug me
Mister I don’t work for you

Don’t bug me, don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
Don’t bug me, don’t bug me
‘Cause I don’t work for you
At the sound of the tone
Better hang up the phone
If you want to be my friend
Don’t bug me when I’m working

…

Jesse Ed Davis – ¡Jesse Davis! …album review

I’ve heard of this guy for so long, associated with Taj Mahal and solo Beatles tracks. He played on over 80 albums of other artists. His guitar playing was top shelf and was truly one of the guitar greats. He doesn’t get the attention he deserves. My admitted lack of knowledge of him led me to think he could only play guitar. Much like last week’s Link Wray post, who I didn’t know could sing, he had a really good voice. I also want to thank Lisa from Tao-Talk for posting a Davis song last Friday. 

Jesse Ed Davis was Kiowa, Comanche, and Muscogee (Creek) on his father’s side, while his mother was of Kiowa and Cherokee descent with a small strand of European ancestry. In other words, he was overwhelmingly Native American, with family roots braided through several Plains and Southeastern tribes. He grew up connected to that identity, not as a stage costume, but as him. His dad painted the cover for this album. 

I started to go through his albums like ¡Jesse Davis!, Ululu, and Keep Me Comin or Keep On Coming. He has a couple more, which I still have to get to. I’m totally impressed by his rootsy music. Again, instead of just picking a song, I wanted to feature the album. There is no #1 hit on the album, nor do I think he was trying for that. Just really good, solid songs. 

When Jesse Ed Davis stepped into a studio to record his 1971 debut album ¡Jesse Davis!. He had already carved out a reputation as the guitarist you called when you wanted soul and a heavenly guitar tone, and most importantly, zero ego. He’d played with Taj Mahal, recorded with Gene Clark, and done sessions with everyone from Albert King to Earl Hooker, Jackson Browne, John Lennon, and a ton of other artists. Jesse was the go-to guitarist of the 1970s. 

How respected was he? On this album, he had some incredible guests. Eric Clapton, Leon Russell, Gram Parsons, Alan White, and the Gimme Shelter singer Merry Clayton. This album sounds like a loose jam session that worked all the way around. My favorite song on the album is Washita Love Child. It just hit me and has stuck. I found myself hitting the play button again and again. The band around him cooks with an irresistible looseness. You can hear Clapton on his track loud and clear. After researching for this post, I found out it was featured on the TV show  Reservation Dogs. 

The album works because it stays out of its own way. Lou Adler keeps the production loose and moving. Leon Russell arranged some of the songs and added his unique touch. The songs drift between blues, roots rock, and a kind of West Coast soul. Reno Street Incident floats in like someone cracked open a window at two in the morning. Every Night Is Saturday Night for Me comes alive with Leon’s piano, rolling forward like only Leon can do. And when Gram Parsons or Eric Clapton pop up, they don’t hijack the song; they simply join in.

What really holds everything together is Jesse’s guitar, a voice unto itself. He never shows off, he never “shreds,” he simply plays for the song. His solos feel lived in and warm. He didn’t shout to be heard; he just played. Hearing him play and sing on this album is like slipping into a holey, comfortable favorite shirt.

The album doesn’t scream commercial…it doesn’t scream at all. It’s an album you put on and listen to all the way through, and sit back and enjoy some great music. Jesse Ed Davis passed away in 1988 at the young age of 43. 

I added a 10-minute documentary clip.

Washita Love Child

I was born on the bank
in the Washitaw river
in a Kiowa Comanche teepee

Daddy had a hard time
Mama made his eyes shine
Lord, it was just us three
Well they weaned me riding bareback
And I’d tie my hair back
And i did that pow wow thang
Daddy showed up with his stand up guitar
and then we rocked it i believe

I’m a love child
and I’m running wild
hope it don’t take too long
I’m a love you
I’m a try to make you happy
you got to let me sing my song

Mama said to son
Said what about your school books?
Baby baby what about the draft?
Daddy said honey don’t you worry about this boy he’s headed somewhere
Got a guitar and a van to ride

He’s a love child
He’s gonna be running wild
Hope he don’t take too long
He’s gonna love you
He’s in love with me too
So we got to let him sing his song

Well i got myself together
And i’ve been rolling down the road
Gonna boogie down down down down
If i ever get a chance to boogie woogie you
Ha, you can’t sit down

…

Pretenders – Kid

I’ve been a Pretenders fan since I heard Brass in Pocket when it was released. Although I would spend a long time tracking down the name of it. In the 1980s, you could count on them to release something good and not the standard top 40 music. Chrissie Hynde had more grit in her singing than most of her male and female peers. She wasn’t here to sing you a pretty song; she meant business.

The original band was something special. The members were James Honeyman-Scott (lead guitar, backing vocals, keyboards), Pete Farndon (bass guitar, backing vocals), and Martin Chambers (drums, backing vocals, percussion)…and of course Chrissie Hynde. To convince guitarist James Honeyman-Scott to join The Pretenders, Chrissie Hynde hired one of his favorite recording artists, Nick Lowe, to produce the song Stop Your Sobbing, an album cut of The Kinks. Chris Thomas would go on to produce all the other songs on the album.

When the Pretenders burst onto the scene in 1979, they didn’t arrive with punk guitars (although the spirit was there). They were armed with mostly Hynde’s melodic songs. Chrissie Hynde was a new kind of female rock vocalist, vulnerable and dangerous all at once. She was/is a badass but still relatable. This song was the band’s second single in 1979 and was included on their 1980 debut album. It is a great slice of power pop that blends jangly guitars, melodic melancholy. I love James Honeyman-Scott’s intro guitar run; it makes the song for me. It’s very obvious why Chrissie wanted him in the band.

Hynde has stated the song is about a woman who works in “the game” (prostitution) to get by, and her sadness when her child learns the truth about what she does. Following the 1981 Pretenders album Pretenders II, two of the four band members, Pete Farndon and James Honeyman-Scott, died of drug overdoses, leaving just Hynde and drummer Martin Chambers, who remained the mainstays in the band amongst a rotating cast of guitarists and bass players through the 1980s.

The song peaked at #33 in the UK in 1979.

Kid

Kid, what changed your mood?You got all sad, so I feel sad tooI think I knowSome things you never outgrow

You think it’s wrongI can tell you doHow can I explainWhen you don’t want me to?

Kid, my only kidYou look so small, you’ve gone so quietI know you know what I’m aboutI won’t deny it

But you forgetYou don’t understandYou’ve turned your headYou’ve dropped my hand

All my sorrowAll my bluesAll my sorrow

Shut the lightGo awayFull of graceYou cover your face

Kid, precious kidYour eyes are blue, but you won’t cry, I knowAngry tears are too dearYou won’t let them go

Parliament Funkadelic – Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off the Sucker)

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk

I’ve always liked funk music, but I haven’t heard a lot of it as much as other types of music. Posting the Meters a few weeks ago gave me the urge to listen to more. Where else would I go other than to follow fellow bassist Bootsy Collins? He most certainly brought the funk and runs on the bass that were incredible. 

The opening alone feels like a giant neon sign flickering to life: FUNK DELIVERED HERE, with Bootsy Collins’ bass out walking and running amok. George Clinton started this band, but when I hear them, I can’t help but think of Collins. Maybe it’s the bass player in me. 

Before the stage costumes, before Bootsy’s star-shaped bass, George Clinton was running a humble doo-wop group out of a New Jersey barbershop. That is where the so-called P-Funk universe first sparked to life. In the late 1950s Clinton worked as a hairdresser in Plainfield, New Jersey, and formed a vocal group called The Parliaments. Inspired by groups like Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, their sound leaned closer to street-corner harmonies and teenage heartbreak rather than spaced-out funk. They spent their early years cutting singles for small labels, chasing a hit, and stacking harmonies with tight choreography.

Their first real breakthrough came in 1967 with the single “(I Wanna) Testify“, which scraped the charts and gave the group national attention. But success came tangled in bad contracts, which would later force Clinton to get creative with band names. After hearing Psychedelic Soul, Clinton began to shift toward that kind of music in the late 1960s under the name Funkadelic, as he had temporarily lost the rights to the name Parliaments. Funkadelic allowed Clinton to push into psychedelic territory, influenced by Hendrix, Sly Stone, and Cream. The debut Funkadelic album arrived in 1970, and suddenly the group had two separate identities. Later on, after he got the name back, he combined the bands, and they were known as P-Funk. 

What really sparked this band was former James Brown bass player Bootsy Collins, when he joined in 1972. His brother, guitarist, Phelps “Catfish” Collins, was already in the band. This guy is a fantastic bass player, and there isn’t much better than him. This song became Parliament’s first million-selling single and remains one of the most recognizable funk tracks ever cut. It was played in discos, block parties, roller rinks, sports arenas, on the radio, and later, hip-hop sampling culture.

This album was called The Mothership Connection (Clinton was a huge Star Trek fan) peaked at #13 on the Billboard Album Charts and #4 on the R&B album charts. The song peaked at #15 on the Billboard 100 in 1975. 

Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off the Sucker)

Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

We’re gonna turn this mother out
We’re gonna turn this mother out

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk

We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk
We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk
We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk

(You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down)
(There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round)
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in we’ll tear this mother out)

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Energy Eater

December 13, 1974 Season 1 Episode 10

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

Episode 10 is the halfway point! By the time “The Energy Eater” aired, Kolchak: The Night Stalker had already faced vampires, swamp monsters, and ancient spirits, but this one took a turn into urban mythology with a sci-fi twist. The setting is a newly built hospital in Chicago, plagued by strange power failures, mysterious deaths, and collapsing foundations. Kolchak, sensing something supernatural, soon discovers that the hospital was built on the site of an ancient Native American burial ground, never a good idea in 1970s horror or in real life, for that matter.

This episode is not as good as the previous episode, The Spanish Moss Murders, or the next superb one, Horror in the Heights, but it offers something different. What makes this episode different is that for the first and last time, Kolchak has a real team behind him. He has not one but two sidekicks in this episode. It was nice to see Kolchak get support instead of just being thrown out of meetings by the police.

One was a tough but helpful construction boss and Native American shaman Jim Elkhorn (a marvelously warm and engaging performance by  B-movie William Smith), who assists Kolchak in combating a powerful ancient Native American spirit called the Matchemonedo (This creature is based on a spirit from Potawatomi lore) that’s terrorizing a newly opened hospital built over its resting place. The other was Nurse Janis Eisen (the beautiful Elaine Giftos, whom I remember from Barney Miller). Both are quality characters, and you can sense their camaraderie.

It’s creepy, clever, and grounded in the struggle between progress and the past. Just another night in Chicago for the reporter who always finds trouble that no one will believe. He’s the only reporter who can connect Indian folklore, power surges, and modern construction mishaps into one believable headline, if only anyone believed him. One scene I really liked is when Kolcahk mentions Matchemonedo to his boss. He was smart enough this time not to explain this because Tony would never believe it. Instead, he said that Matchemondo was a Cuban fighter.

Next week’s episode is below this video!

For Next Week’s Episode...here is the link.

BoDeans – When the Love Is Goob (I Mean Good)

I like this band and most of the songs I’ve heard from them. They had a few hits, but for the most part, they were huge on college radio and unfortunately didn’t hit the masses like they should have. This song is fantastic, and the title is brilliant to me. Many musicians have come from Wisconsin. There is Steve Miller, Al Jarreau, Steve Miller, Les Paul, Violent Femmes, Liberace, The BoDeans, and many more.

In 1977, Sophomores Sam Llanas and Kurt Neumann met in a study hall at Waukesha South High School in Wisconsin and bonded over a shared love of music. The two later end up playing music together. In 1980, at Neumann’s urging, Llanas dropped out of college to pursue music full-time. The group pursues gigs at small bars, clubs, dances, and events. Llanas comes up with the name, Da BoDeans. Llanas and Neumann added drummer Guy Hoffman (Oil Tasters, Confidentials, later the Violent Femmes) and bass player Bob Griffin (The Agents) to fill out their sound in 1983.

By the time the BoDeans released the album Home in 1989, they had already carved out their niche as Midwest roots artists, but this album pushed them further into pop-rock territory without losing their rootsy identity. The title is a great play on words, but the song plays it straight. Jangly electric guitars wrapped around acoustic strumming, a steady backbeat, and those harmonies between Kurt Neumann and Sam Llanas.

Jim Scott produced the album. They met him in 1987, producing Robbie Robertson’s self-titled solo album. The BoDeans added some backup vocals to it, including the songs Somewhere Down the Crazy River and Showdown at Big Sky. If you are exploring Home, this track is a rewarding stop, a small reminder that even when love gets messy, misspelled, or just plain “goob,” it can still turn out pretty good.

The album peaked at #94 on the Billboard Album Charts in 1989.

Neumann: The second record, you have all of this critical acclaim but the record company wants to get you on the radio, which is a whole ‘nother ballgame, and Jerry Harrison was from our hometown of Milwaukee. We worked with Jim Scott [on the third album], another really fun record. 

Neumann: “There’s an installation about Midwestern rock bands and we’re one of those bands that are in the installation. As a band, music artist, whatever, it’s flattering that you’d ever get anything in the Hall of Fame. You go there and you look at Jimi Hendrix, Rolling Stones and all this stuff, and you’re like, ‘Wow, somebody heard my music and put a guitar of mine and some lyrics up as well?’ That’s quite a big compliment.”

When the Love Is Goob (I Mean Good)

Well, I work for the money but it takes my pride
It takes everything that I got down inside
Takes half a life just to break even
And it takes half my money just to have my fun
And I get so tired of love on the phone
I’m standin’ here when I should be at home
And the longest nights when I’m far away
You listen, pretty baby, to the words I say
“Hey lady, yes I can do anything, wanna be your man
Hey lady, yes I could do anything when the love is good.”
No tears will fall from this angel’s eyes
We’ll hold promises where the love never dies
Old memories, well, I ain’t got none
‘cuz soft, sweet angel, now, you’re the one
Well, I guess I’ll go find my way, get down on my knees and pray
All this talk ’bout love someday, when, baby, I’m just givin’ it away
Now, no tears gonna fall, no one’s gonna cry
We’ll hole up in heaven, let the world go by
Longest nights when I’m far away
You listen, pretty baby, to the words I say

…