Nbp Jukebox

From the Mystery to Me album by Fleetwood Mac (pre-Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks), the mystical and mesmeric, oneiric and oracular Hypnotized, composed by Bob Welch.

Nothing But a Heartache by The Flirtations. For all you youngsters out there who missed The Swinging Sixties, this is how girls dressed and walked back then -- in bell bottoms, in unison, finger-snappin', swayin' 'n a-sashayin', slippin' 'n a-slidin', movin' 'n a-groovin'.

A triple shot of Missing Persons, erotically fronted by petite, pint-sized punk-pixie Dale Bozzio. Her voice was baby doll-squeaky, her skimpy couture was hot, and her Playboy allure was hotter. In the linked clips, she musically questions the purpose of existence, communication, and peregrinating on foot through The City of Angels. During the 1980s, provocative New Wave rock groups such as MP took the edge off of the depressing era of President Ronald Reagan.

Destination Unknown

Walking in L.A.

Words

To date the only Top 40 hit about cannibalism, Timothy was composed by Rupert Holmes* and performed by "one hit wonders" The Buoys. Lead vocalist Bill Kelly laudably and dramatically enhanced Holmes' macabre lyrics with the appropriate tones of hysteria and melodrama.

* Who later penned the (to me, odious) Escape (The Piña Colada Song) and (to me, more appealing) Him.

Two years ago I was introduced to tragic, ethereal singer Nick Drake by a fellow cinephile and movie lover in a cyberspace forum devoted to movies. The jaunty melody accompanying Drake's wistful rendition, for me, make One of These Things First sublime.

It's summer 1963. A Camelot Year. I am with my family watching a parade. Standing in front of the (long-gone) Plaza Theatre, I longingly gaze at the movie poster for The 30-Foot Bride of Candy Rock starring my favorite person in the whole wide world: Lou Costello. Somebody among the crowd of people has a transistor radio playing this song. And all is right with the world.

I have very few fond memories of my parents. One blessed memory is listening to their collection of Sérgio Mendes records, which instilled in me a lifelong love of Bossa Nova.

For some inexplicable reason, Hugo Friedhofer's majestic main theme for The Best Years of Our Lives stirs my soul. My eyes always mist and my throat always develops a lump whenever I listen to it.

One of the great mysteries of the universe is why the 1989 Grammy Award for Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance Vocal or Instrumental was given to Jethro Tull. Whatever. By then JT had changed its tunes, which did not appeal to me. But twenty years prior, Tull frontman Ian Anderson composed and sang the tender, symphonic lullaby Reasons for Waiting, which immensely pleases my ear and also calms my soul.

I like my classical music Thunderous! Majestic! Grandiloquent! Epic! -- which perfectly describes Dance of the Knights by Sergei Prokofiev.

Ray Stevens is perhaps best known and remembered for silly novelty songs such as Ahab the Arab, Gitarzan, and The Streak, as well as the schmaltzy Everything is Beautiful. But, I shall forever revere him for his venomous attack on the corporate, capitalistic, button-down Establishment: Mr. Businessman. 'Tis a great pity (to me) that Stevens did not continue in this caustic vein.

Eighty-six proof anesthetic crutches
Prop you to the top
Where the smiles are all synthetic
And the ulcers never stop

Beatles Here, There, and Everywhere: A Sprinkling of Copycat-Beatles Bands

Inspired by seeing "a sea of people" during her performance at Woodstock, "hippie chick" Melanie (Safka) composed Lay Down (Candles in the Rain), then immortalized it, backed by The Edwin Hawkins Singers.

Lay down, lay down, let it all down
Let your white birds smile up at the
Ones who stand and frown
Lay down, lay down, let it all down
Let your white birds smile up at the
Ones who stand and frown

We were so close, there was no room
We bled inside each other's wounds
We all had caught the same disease
And we all sang the songs of peace

Lay down, lay down, let it all down
Let your white birds smile up at the
Ones who stand and frown
Lay down, lay down, let it all down
Let your white birds smile up at the
Ones who stand and frown

So raise the candles high
'Cause if you don't we could stay black against the night
Oh, raise them higher again
And if you do, we could stay dry against the rain

Cavatina, composed by Stanley Myers

In 1977 Disco was a cultural phenomenon, nationally and globally. To those of us veterans who'd been long-stricken with dance fever, its universal appeal was bittersweet. In America, Disco was enthusiastically embraced by mainstream society. But the exuberant, exhilarating terpsichorean thrills in the underground gay discotheque scene -- which offered auditorium-sized dance floors -- underwent hetero-genization when Disco got co-opted by the comparatively conservative breeder crowd. Hetero discotheques were meet/meat markets typified by smaller (sometimes very small) dance floors and bigger bar tabs. Dancing was not the main focus of straight club owners and patrons.

By 1980 Disco was "dead", blown up by (mostly) club-footed, constipated, and f*ckstrated Angry White Male punks (who, to the astute eye, were the fascistic progenitors of the Alt-Right and MAGA in America and Patriotic Alternative in Britain). That's what the haters would have you believe. In fact, Disco did not die. The infectious rhythms and immortal beats of Disco music are alive and well in 21st century Pop Music. As long as people succumb to "boogie fever" -- to paraphrase Disco chanteuse Gloria Gaynor, it will survive!

This coming Friday, January 30, will be the first remembrance day of the death of Marianne Faithfull. Media outlets accompanied reports of her demise by playing As Tears Go By. But my favorite song by Faithfull was Summer Nights.

Oh thank goodness. When I first saw the song title, Summer Nights, my mind instantly went to that song of the same name, from the musical Grease, that I've grown to hate, because of all the drunken butcherings I've heard of it over my many years of karaoke at bar shows. What a relief to use your comment's link, and hear the enjoyable song she sings on it. To be honest, I had only heard a couple of her songs before, As Tears Go By, and also a song by Kurt Weil, that she recorded for an album of his songs with her and other artists covering them.. The song was Ballad Of The Soldier's Wife, on the album Lost In The Stars.

During the late 1960s songs by award-winning hit maker Jimmy Webb enriched radio airwaves and topped music charts. My selective collection features Webb songs immortalized by the mellifluous harmonies of The 5th Dimension; rich, heartfelt articulation of Glen Campbell; and haunted, tremulous vocals of Richard Harris.

Actually, most of the Webb songs I'm familiar with, were recorded and sung by Art Garfunkel, who had a long working relationship with Webb writing songs for Art's solo albums.. Such a great voice when he was younger, but he sounds like 💩 now, even worse than Simon...

BD,

All I know about Art Garfunkel's association with Jimmy Webb is -- coincidentally -- his recording of Webb's song, All I Know, which appears on Garfunkel's first solo album Angel Clare.

I had that album and also Garfunkel's second solo effort Breakaway. The cover on that album was a photo of Garfunkel sandwiched between actresses Helena Kallianiotes and Laurie Bird. Kallianiotes was also a belly dancer; she is immortalized in the famous diner scene in Five Easy Pieces. Bird was romantically involved with Garfunkel. In 1979 she committed suicide in his apartment.

My favorite track on Angel Clare is Traveling Boy, penned by Paul Williams and Roger Nichols who also composed my favorite Three Dog Night song, Out in the Country.

I don't know what Garfunkel's voice sounds like these days. I'll take your word for it that it has deteriorated. As did Marianne Faithfull's. One recording artist who probably doesn't suffer that problem is Tom Waits.

Yeah, Tom Waits's voice has always been that way, on purpose. And I love it as it is!

I am not a lover of County & Western music, but there are C&W songs that I love. Like for instance . . .

* A double entendre if I ever heard one!

Country music sucks, always has, as far as I'm concerned. Just one of multiple reasons that I'm an alienated outcast, at least culturally, from most people where I live.. But I do like K. D. Lang's music. I also would not classify her or Bonnie Raitt as country, but suit yourself..

BD,

Are you really an outcast in Iowa? Or are you a . . .

Maybe more the latter than the former, but in the end, does it really matter? The bottom line is, I am part of a very small cultural minority in my state, even tho I'm a straight, white cis male. So in the end, I feel just as outnumbered and alienated, as I would if I were black or queer. BTW, Iowa is 97% white, racially, to give you an idea of how much of a minority I am, culturally rather than racially.. and that's without even getting into politics, where I am a socialist in a solid red state... In case you're wondering why I've stayed here my whole life, it's because it's where all my friends are and have been my whole adult life, and I'm not interested in moving somewhere else where I don't know a soul. It's not easy to make a whole new set of friends, even after you're retired, in a new state... and the cost of living is low.. I'm a music and cultural snob, and proud of it!