Big Mama Willie Mae Thornton, Elvis Presley//Hound Dog

Friends, I'm pretty siked to say that tomorrow I'm going to be co-leading a workshop, the subject of which is the art of the houseshow, at the Brooklyn-based Willie Mae Rock and Roll Camp for Girls. Last night I compiled a digital file of pictures from houseshows over the years and fantastic fliers made by friends and conspirators. This almost brought a tear to my eye. What is it about houseshows? I don't know. They are magical.

Switching gears, the camp, which is awesome through and through, is named for "Big Mama" Willie Mae Thornton, also awesome through and through. This is the song they've decided to take up as their anthem, understandably. Like yesterday's featured performer, Big Mama grew up in the south and learned to sing in church.

In addition to being one of the first women to play the music that was soon to become "rock and roll," Big Mama was the first person to record this song, which later went on to be one of Elvis's most recognizable hits. Her version is deeper, darker, slower, richer and generally sexier than The King's pop hit. Not that his version is bad. Although, changing that lyric to: "you never caught a rabbit?" Really? REALLY? Once you hear Big Mama's sultry version, you'll never go back. Long live the queen.



Hound Dog.mp3 [Big Mama Version]



Hound Dog.mp3 [Elvis Version]

You ain't nothing but a hound dog,
Been snoopin' round my door.
You ain't nothing but a hound dog,
Been snoopin' round my door.
You can wag your tail,
But I ain't gon' feed you no more.
You told me you was high class,
But I can see through that.
You told me you was high class,
But I can see through that.
Daddy, I know
You ain't a real cool cat.

Tennessee Ernie Ford//Sixteen Tons

Ok. Fess up. Who loves Mad Men? Who saw the first episode of Season 4? I only watched half of it on iTunes so, shhhhh, no spoilers.

This is song is one that I knew, because, hey, doesn’t everyone know it? But why? It’s not like we learned it in grade school music class…did we? Is it just one of those standards embedded in the subconscious mind of every red-blooded American? I don’t know. But I do know that I hadn’t thought about it for quite some time, until it was the credit music for a recent episode of Mad Men (Season 3, I think?).

There are many versions of this song, which is originally attributed to country singer Merle Travis. The guy who sang this version, which was a pop hit in 1955, is Tennessee Ernie Ford. Question: why don’t people have names like that anymore? Another questions: why don’t we have pop hits like this anymore?



Sixteen Tons.mp3

You load sixteen tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt.
Saint Peter, don't you call me, 'cause I can't go;
I owe my soul to the company store...

Sarah Vaughan//Lullaby Of Birdland

All that indie rock coverage of last week really put me in the mood for some solidly brilliant old timey shit. Enter: Sarah Vaughan.

Here's a controversial statement about Sarah Vaughan that I hold true: I think she's as good as Ella Fitzgerald (who she opened for at The Apollo in 1943, after winning one of their famed amateur nights). Some music fans would probably consider physically harming me for that one, but there it is. Don't get me wrong, she's completely different. But she's definitely as good.

Just listen to that tone. It's deep and rich and dark. While Ella has a smoothness to her voice which is completely unrivaled (and while she would definitely win in a scatting contest), Sarah's got this richness that's all kinds of magical (not to mention that she can also hold her on in scatting, which is evident in this track). Her nickname, "The Divine One," was well-earned.

Vaughan was also from Newark, which is kind of a soft spot for me. I often walk by the street named for her by NJPac on my way from the office to Penn Station. It makes me smile. In fact, as noted on Wikipedia (and verified on my commute):

In 2004-2006, New Jersey Transit paid tribute to Miss Vaughan in the design of its new Newark Light Rail stations. Passengers stopping at any station on this line can read the lyrics to one of her signature songs, "Send in the Clowns", along the edge of the station platform.

There's also the matter of the slew of jazz greats that she freqeuently had behind her, including Dizzie Gillespie, Art Blakey, Miles Davis and Charlie "Bird" Parker. Of course Birdland, the club named after Parker, is the subject of this song.



Lullaby of Birdland.mp3

Lullaby of birdland,
That's what I always hear,
When you sigh.

Nat "King" Cole//My Baby Just Cares for Me

My baby just got home today from Mpls. I missed her so much and I'm really glad she's home. Ok, so she was only gone for four days. Ok, go ahead, make fun of me then.

Nat "King" Cole's baby was Maria Ellington (no relation), but who did use to sing in Duke Ellington's band. Together they got married and had five kid-os. One of them was Natalie Cole.

In closing, I have no idea who Mr. Tibbits is.



My Baby Just Cares for Me.mp3

My baby's no Crosby fan, Dick Tracy is not her man,
My baby just cares for me.
My baby don't care for Mr. Tibbits.
She'd rather have me around to kibbitz.

Little Richard//Long Tall Sally

Since he was mentioned in yesterday's post, I figured today's as good a time as ever to talk about Little Richard (aka Richard Penniman).

Tutti Frutti, au rutti. Good Golly Miss Molly. Ba wamp ba lu whop bam bop. We all know Little Richard. OR DO WE!? For example, did you know that originally "au rutti" was supposed to be "good booty!?"

When I was in college, I had this class with one of my best friends, Kot. I really can't remember what the class was about at this point. I also can't remember the name of the professor. Was it Cook? James Cook? I have no idea. Regardless, he was a character.

First of all, he used to a drummer in a punk band in the bay area. He made sure we all knew this. He spoke in a uniformly measured monotone. This was extra funny because he used transparencies for his lectures and his transparencies were all in CAPS! So here's this guy, reading along in monotone with lecture notes that are basically shouting at us. Kot and I began to feel like the CAPS strangely represented his monotone. At the beginning of class, when we'd file into the giant auditorium, he would instruct us to remove our coats in his weird, flat way. "TAKE OFF YOUR PARKAS, STUDENTS." Parkas? Seriously?

But you're probably wondering why I'm going on and on about Prof Cook (?). It's because he was the first person to ever tell me (and by "me," I mean a giant lecture hall), that this song, "Long Tall Sally," is actually about a drag queen (I'm not actually sure if this is true--Wikipedia tells a very different story, but now it's Wikipedia's word against Academia's word...and I don't really know who has more credibility). The prof. also told us that Little Richard loved dressing in drag and lots of other interesting things. From Wiki-wiki-wiki:

While on the road in the mid-50s, Penniman would have notorious parties, replete with orgies, in hotel rooms wherever they appeared. In late 1956, he met a voluptuous high school graduate in Savannah, Georgia by the name of Angel Lee. She became his girlfriend and started travelling on the road with him. Penniman would invite attractive men to his parties and would enjoy watching them having sex with his girlfriend.

Of course, now he's born again. Of course.

The professor's story is that Uncle John is with Long Tall Sally, a tranny prostitute. He's having some fun tonight. That is until Aunt Mary (Uncle John's wife) sees them together (here, Sally is described as being "bald-headed"). Then, Uncle John had to duck "back in the alley," to avoid his wife.



Long Tall Sally.mp3

Well Long Tall Sally, she's built for speed,
She's got everything that Uncle John need.

Patsy Cline//Walking After Midnight

I am such a sucker for a pedal steel. Honestly, I can feel so-so about a song...then add pedal steel--suddenly, I'm sold. I know, what a cheap date.

Let's face it though, this song would be incredible if Patsy Cline was just singing it a cappella. Cline's got this way of fully embodying romantic tragedy in her voice that few people can pull off.

As a late '50s/early '60s country singer who enjoyed a lot of crossover success, she's got plenty of hits. It's hard to choose just one of her songs to put up here. Although "Crazy," and "I Fall to Pieces" are two other predictable favorites, I've always had a special fondness for this song, even though Cline herself was never very into it. I think it's a very honest portrait of how love can kind of make you do ridiculous/rash/insane things.

Something truly interesting about Cline is that she broke through many barriers for women in country music and the entertainment business as a whole. From wikipedia:

She was so respected by men in the industry, that rather than being introduced to audiences as “Pretty Miss Patsy Cline” as her female contemporaries often were, she was given a more stately introduction such as that given by Johnny Cash on their 1962 tour together: “Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only Patsy Cline.” As an artist, she held her fan base in extremely high regard (many of whom became friends), staying for hours after concerts to chat and sign autographs.

Cline was not only the first woman in country music to perform at New York’s Carnegie Hall (which she did with fellow Opry members and disapproval from gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen—whom Cline fired back at) but also to headline the Hollywood Bowl with Johnny Cash and, later, in 1962, the first woman in country music to headline her own show in Las Vegas.

According to legend, Cline also predicted her own death, which came in a 1963 airplane crash. Creepy.



Walking After Midnight.mp3

I go out walking after midnight,
Out in the moonlight,
Just hoping you may be
Somewhere a-walking after midnight
Searching for me.

Earthworms//Mo' Taters

I'm sitting here in my family's kitchen in New Jersey, playing today's song for my grandparents. They are dancing along. Mamoo heard the first line and exclaimed, "this is my kind of music!"

It's Thanksgiving and everyone knows that the best part of the traditional American meal is not the Turkey, but IS actually the potato dish. Whether you eat yours roasted or in sweet in one of those caserole-with-mini-marshmallow situations, potatoes are the jam.

I prefer my potatos white and mashed and made by Mamoo according to her secret recipe, which I think includes A LOT of butter.

I came across this song on a LP, called Las Vegas Grind, that Ethan (who I've coicedentally celebrated Thanksgiving with three years in a row now and who is on his way here AS WE SPEAK) gave me. He bought it for me because my favorite graphic novelist/life hero Dan Clowes did the cover (see below). I really love Dan Clowes. I only have one tattoo and it's a frame of Ghost World.

This band is so obscure that there's virtually no information available about them anywhere (and the internet can't decide if they're called "Earthworm," "Earthworms" or "Earthworms!"). LVG doesn't have liner notes and although we can assume that these are all '50s bands, it's kind of hard to tell anything beyond that.

What is clear, however, is that this song is a complete celebration of "taters" and all the many different ways you can enjoy them. It is also a jam, and highly danceable for kids of all ages.

So, from OSS, Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you are hanging out with people you love and eating plenty of delicious food, including potatoes.



Mo' Taters.mp3

Mo' taters, Ma!

Les Paul and Mary Ford//Tiger Rag

Hey Loves! I’m back in the USA! I left Annie’s house in Costa Rica at 4Am on Wednesday and didn’t get back to Brooklyn until 2AM on Thursday! This included a super-fun and totally unexpected seven hour layover in one of the worst places period, Dallas, Texas. Holy 22 hours of international travel, batman!

CR was amazing and totally mind-blowing. I could not even begin to adequately describe the experience here, but I was by-and-large cut off from technology/modern world, and it was awesome. No cell. No internet. Just incredible people, lots of bugs, beautiful mountainous rainforest views and super horrifying roads. Some pictures are here.

Sadly, while I was in layover hell, real life guitar hero Les Paul was living out his last few hours. Much has already been written about this 94 year-old extremely innovative legend who played weekly sets until his last days, so I’ll skip the obit. He still definitely deserves to be honored for his writing, performance and electronic innovation though. Please enjoy this 50s recording, with his wife Mary Ford, of “Tiger Rag,” (given to me in mix form from Emily) featured on NBC’s The Les Paul Show and observe a moment of music for this incredible individual. RIP, fine sir.



Tiger Rag.mp3

Has anybody seen that tiger?

PS. Also, thanks Les Paul, for giving us multi-track recording, because it's my favorite invention EVER!

Edith Piaf//Milord

A few nights ago, Anika and I finished watching La Vie en Rose, the stunning and oft-depressing movie about Edith Piaf. It’s fair to say that since watching it, I’ve had some Piaf song or another on constant repeat in my brain. If her song choices weren’t so enjoyable or her vocal quality weren’t so incredible, this would be annoying. But, since Piaf was such a remarkable performer with such incredible presence, it’s not.

And Jeez, did this woman have a crazy-ass life! I had trouble following the film at points, since it seemed that the form of the movie echoed the chaotic and uncertain nature of Piaf’s own existence. Her life began with a drunk penniless street-singing mom, a circus contortionist dad and a madam grandma whose whores were her care-givers. Amazingly, it only got crazier from there, so it’s no wonder that Piaf selected songs that reflected her hard street life, and blew them out of the water with such intense performances.

It’s hard to chose just one song to feature here, but this is the one that sticks with me most, even if it’s not her most well-known or heartbreaking (Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien or La Vie en Rose). I love how this song is so French (duh), from the sound-sets to the rhythm. A composition of her longtime collaborator Marguerite Monnot, the song fits perfectly with Piaf’s style.



Milord.mp3

J'en ai froid dans le coeur.

(I am cold in my heart.)

Rosemary Clooney//Mambo Italiano

It's almost Christmas and Rosemary Clooney always reminds me of Christmas because of her role in the classic (and perhaps slightly cheesey) film, White Christmas.

Seriously though, Rosemary Clooney, besides being the aunt of your favorite dreamy and sometimes wry Hollywood actor, has a fucking amazing voice. It's so velvety. And this song is just about as kitschy as they come.



Mambo Italiano.mp3

All you calabrese, do the mambo like you're crazy!

Chuck Berry//Your Driver, Spoon//Idiot Driver, The White Stripes//Big 3 Killed My Baby, The Anniversary//D in Detroit

Hey again, guys. Know how the car companies just asked for a giant bailout!?!?! You probably do.

The state of the American Auto industry is something I’ve always kept half an eye on, ever since my six-year stay in Michigan educated me to the peculiarities of the its culture (yes, execs and employees of different companies did segregate out into different neighborhoods—a tidbit I learned from Detroit aficionado, Dan Faichney) and economy. Indeed, Michigan, and more specifically Detroit, is like a mini ecosystem where the car is the only food in town and shit! Now all the cars are dying out! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO!?!?

In honor of all the good, bad and the ugly of The Big Three and beyond, please accept these four sweet songs (playing a little catch up for upcoming vacation from internets):


I Want to be Your Driver

This song, which was put on a mix for me by one good, good friend, Emily Bate, harkens back to the good old days of the automobile. Shiny chrome! What a fine machine! AND IT REALLY COOKS!

This song may be a metaphor for…something? What do you think?



I Want to be Your Driver.mp3


Idiot Driver

And then…the hoard descended and everyone needed a fly ride! The highways swarmed and grew congested. You wanted to hit that souped up Honda next to you at full ramming speed!

CAN YOU SEE MY MIDDLE FINGER? IT IS POINTED IN YOUR DIRECTION!!!



Idiot Driver.mp3


The Big Three Killed My Baby

What would this post be without this song? Nothing, that’s what.

Those greedy sons-a-bitches keep churning out the shitty cars and ruining the lives of honest Americans, poisoning the environment, getting into bed with corrupt oil companies and generally sucking hard. At least they didn’t take your first born…or kill your spouse….er….nevermind.



The Big Three Killed My Baby.mp3


D in Detroit

Oh, as if killing your baby wasn’t enough…let’s not forget an entire destroyed city! Detroit was once the third largest metropolis in the country. It is now a burnt-out shell of urban hell. Your taxes, about to be hard at work.

This band is a guilty pleasure that I can trace back to high school. They're so good...for emo!



D in Detroit.mp3

Now will somebody please throw these guys some dollars!