The Beach Boys – Holland (K54008) and Mount Vernon and Fairway (A Fairy Tale) EP (K54008/7) (1973)

LOCAL SNOB CITES HOLLAND BEACH BOYS’ BEST LP, IMPRESSES NO-ONE 

(Hilliard, Ohio) – Speaking loudly at the Nike Sports Lounge, area book catalog writer Amram Patel called the 1973 Beach Boys album Holland “far and away the [band's] most consistent Lp”. “Despite its fairly tortured creation,” bellowed Patel, who’d had several Rum and Cokes at this point, “Holland hangs together real well.”

Others, however, were quick to dismiss the 33-year-old’s assessment. “Freakin’ Amram showing off,” is how one friend characterised Patel’s critique. “He’s like, ‘No, Pet Sounds isn’t the best, that’s way too obvious’,” Nike regular Bobby Flannel said. “Yeah, pal, it’s obvious for good reasons.”

“He gets really oppositional and precious when he’s been drinking,” added Flannel.

According to Patel, Holland sounds like the legendary California band still had something to prove. “It was the last record they made,” he slurred, “before completely capitulating to Mike Love’s money-spinning, oldies self-parody.”

“The only thing I wish,” burbled Patel, his index finger jabbing the air and neck lolling “was that, you know, the Mount Vernon and Fairway sequence had been included in the album’s running order, as the originally envisaged centerpiece. If [the other members] had tossed Brian that bone, he’d've been a lot more, like, involved in the album’s production and it wouldn’t have turned out as mediocre a record as it ended up, even with ‘Sail On[, Sailor]‘ and ‘Funky Pretty’ which are really good, an’ if the rest of Holland had been that good, then maybe the Beach Boys could’ve had a proper second career instead of another 40 years of God-damn ‘Fun, Fun Fun’ ‘n’ that shit.” He contradicted himself several more times as the rant proceeded to get less and less coherent.

At press time, Patel was sobbing silently, his head laying over his folded arms resting on the bar.

Editor’s Note: Another excellent find last Bank Holiday. This copy of Holland includes the Mount Vernon and Fairway EP in its original cover, which I’d never seen before. In fact, while I recognised the 7″ itself, I was initially convinced someone had housed it in a Flying Lizards picture sleeve or something, so at odds with the rest of Holland’s aesthetic is the stoner-with-a-magic-marker look of the single.

De La Soul Is Dead (661 111) (1991)

A remarkable day at the Mersham Cricket Club boot on Bank Holiday Monday. First up, De La Soul Is Dead, an item that was on the vaunted Thrifty Vinyl “list” and one I almost picked up as a re-issue a couple weeks ago–sorry 4 Men With Beards, but I only paid 50p for my EX+ copy. Though it’s not whacked-out as Pedro Bell, I’ve included a detailed image of the rarely seen cartoon on the inner sleeve. Simply click on the illustration and magnify for maximum enjoyment. 

Chuck Berry’s Golden Decade (6641018) (1967)

Just completed the Golden Decade trilogy yesterday. Unfortunately, my turntable’s on the fritz (something to do with the integral attaching leads) and I can’t enjoy just now.Also included in my copy was all manner of Berry ephemera including the relevant page from Rock Dreams and a couple clippings from a 1972 Melody Maker. Fun.

Afro Rock Festival (2870 311) (1973)

By 1973 we’d had folk-rock, space-rock, country-rock and art-rock. And that was just the Byrds. So why couldn’t Afro Rock be the Next Big Thing? Well, if your idea of Afro Rock is a couple transplanted  South Africans playing “Louie, Louie” in as un-funky a way possible with Prog Rockers Jade Warrior, then there are very good reasons why not. Fortunately, Simba only gets two tracks.

Osibisa is the main attraction here and they sound pretty good; but bear in mind, Afro Rock Festival was produced in the UK and designed to appeal to slightly outré domestics, not Africans. So, Assagai’s psychedelic wig-out “Jabula” aside, one isn’t going to confuse Contour’s well-meaning, but tepid safari with a Soundway comp of rare Ghanaian 45s.

And Afro Rock never did become the Next Big Thing.

PS: Note how the sashaying neck beads precisely cover up the nips on both background dancers. Lol.

The only other record I’ve got on Contour (the UK budget label subsidiary of Polydor) is a collaboration between the Swingle Singers and the Modern Jazz Quartet–the nexus of which almost caused a disruption in the Thrifty Vinyl space-time continuum, such was epochal nature of the meeting. Unsurprisingly, the cover is poor compared to the original.

Afro Rock Festival came from the Etchinghill bootfair a couple Saddy’s ago at the cost of 50p.

“Last Night A DJ Saved My Life” – Coldjam featuring Grace (BWR39) (1990)

LOCAL DJ FAILS TO REVIVE DANCEFLOOR HEART ATTACK VICTIM LAST NIGHT                                                     Latest Disco Tragedy Leads To Calls For Mandatory Disc Jockey Life Saving Training

(Huddersfield, West Yorkshire) — “I couldn’t think,” recalled a stammering Huddersfield disc jockey DJ Smile when confronted with the prostrate body of  Jayne Watson lying on the dance floor at Gaunt Street night club Mr. Huddle’s yesterday evening. It was apparent that Watson had suffered a heart attack, but no one, least of all the DJ, was able to save her. The tragedy has led to appeals from some Labour MPs to compel DJs to attend life-saving courses.

“If a DJ can save the life of one woman,” said Labour leader Ed Milliband, “DJ CPR legislation will have been worth it.”

But the Conservative minister for Culture, Media and Sport Hugh Robertson labelled the proposals, “typical Labour Nanny State-ism” quipping that “DJs should stick to bangin’ chunes, not bangin’ chests.”

The Modern Jazz Quartet Plays the Music From Porgy and Bess (BL7692) (1965)

It’s not a proper Garage Safari unless I pick up an MJQ record. Fortunately, the village-wide bootfair this morning in Elham (the next hamlet along towards Canterbury) was accommodating and I inch ever closer to the complete Atlantic canon (this one issued in Europe on Philips).

Question: Did anyone in jazz not cover “Summertime”?

The Buddy Holly Story (SM 301-305)

MACCA ROYALTY DEMAND ON BOOTFAIR HOLLY BOX Rock Billionaire To Pocket Nearly 90p On Fleamarket Purchase

(Hythe, Kent) — Beatle legend Sir Paul McCartney has demanded, and received, substantial royalty payments totalling nearly 90p following the purchase by local vinyl enthusiast Eric Whipple of The Buddy Holly Story at yesterday’s boot fair on the grounds of the Hythe Cricket Club. Whipple bought the exhaustive 1975 5-Lp World Record Club box set from stall holder Timothy Carter for five pounds.

“It was remarkable,” claimed the seller. “Sir Paul walked straight up to me after I sold my old Buddy Holly box set for five quid and said, ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ When I looked confused, he got aggressive, ‘Royalties, mate. 17.5%. Hand it over.’”

“Well, what could I do? He had a couple minders with him who looked pretty tasty and I didn’t want any trouble.”

After initially offering rock’s first billionaire 87p, Carter was told to “round it up, sunshine”, making the total 88 pence.
McCartney purchased the publishing rights to the Holly cannon in the 1970s and routinely makes visits to bootfairs, charity shops and second-hand record stores to make sure precise royalty payments are collected.

Of his remaining Lp stock, Carter remarked that “if Don Williams, Demis Roussos, Slim Whitman and Jim Reeves start coming round I’ll be fucked.”

Hüsker Dü – Flip Your Wig (SST055) (1985)

COLUMBUS RESIDENT ACHIEVES SENSE OF CLOSURE WITH HÜSKER DÜ 

(Columbus, Ohio) – After nearly a decade of mourning, Darren Wiggins has be able to come to terms with the death of his affection for Hüsker Dü. With the new-found sense of closure meaning that “a great burden has shifted from [his] soul” and allowed the 44-year-old video editor “to move on with [his] life”, Wiggins says he will no longer be listening to the half-formed, ostensibly pop, rants of the Minneapolis punk band.

“I’ve tried over the years, but the fact is there’s simply no spark left between me and Hüsker Dü.”

The cessation of emotional ties was bittersweet for Wiggins, who remembered with fondness the day his college chum Samuel Wenther gave him Zen Arcade for a birthday present during his sophomore year at Otterbein. “It was a sweet gesture, much appreciated,” recalled Wiggins. “But seriously, when was the last time I listened to Zen Arcade?”

“Or talked to Sammy, for that matter,” he added.

And so, with many, many better conceived and executed albums to choose from, the Columbus father of three no longer feels the compunction to cling hopefully, desperately to the remnants of his youth. “There’s so much ‘grown-up’ music out there to explore,” the beaming local man told reporters. “It really feels like I’ve finally left my young adulthood behind me.”

Wiggins cited the “same-yness of the performances and arrangements” and “the flatness of Spot’s drum production” as particular reason for his mid-life dismissal of what was once one of his favourite bands. “Both the overall ‘roar’ and Grant Hart’s drum sound are distinctive, no doubt about it,” Wiggins explained. “But over the course of an album, let alone seven, it becomes a bit much.”

“Obviously, I will be hanging on to my Hüskers records,” Wiggins added. “You know, in case I come back around to them.”

_______________________________________________

Editor’s note: I found this and Candy Apple Grey at a chaz in Truro last year, doubling my Hüskers collection at a stroke. I still listen to them when the mood hits.

The Supremes – High Energy (C062-97687) (1976)

The polar opposite of the individualistic vision exemplified by Laura Nyro below, this late-period Supremes disco outing is a thoroughly corporate number; the group, after innumerable personnel changes and, at this point, containing only one original member, reduced to little more than a Brand Name. This state of affairs is unwittingly (if amusingly) alluded to by the literally faceless trio of figures on the front cover and the fact that, while producers, engineers, conga player, etc. are named, the singers are not.

All of which is not to say High Energy is bad. As suggested in the recent Supremes article, part of the charm of the venture is its very commercial contrivance. And with various Hollands and Doziers back manning production/songwriting duties and budgets obviously high, this was never going to be a dud. Certainly, “You’re What’s Missing In My Life”, “I’m Gonna Let My Heart Do the Walking”, “Don’t Let My Teardrops Bother You” are all examples of really good mid-70s disco-soul and if Motown had called the band High Energy (or something) instead of the album, they would have been seen more fairly in the continuum of the Supremes, with their orchestral filigrees and spoken love tokens, instead of in the parent band’s shadow.

A second Lp (and on relatively heavy vinyl) from Age UK this a.m., where I skipped on a good looking Nina and Friedrik album despite its being on Atco. I simply didn’t have the heart.

Laura Nyro – New York Tendaberry (63510) (1969)

God, Lucifer, New York City and someone known only as the Captain. These are the images, filtered through the  prism of Laura Nyro’s imagination, that crop up again and again on New York Tendaberry, the singer-songwriter’s third Lp, making it a concept album of sorts, but one so opaque as to defy clear description. Suffice to say, it presages early Bruce Springsteen in its obsession with The City as a romantic vehicle for character and dramatic (as well as personal) exploration.

As with Eli and the Thirteen Confession, one is jaw-dropped by the musical and lyrical audacity constantly on display. Therein lies a unique problem. So talented and creative, one gets the feeling that, with fewer histrionics/eccentricities, Nyro could have been a lot more popular than she was. Instead, she swoops and jives, the music slowing down and speeding up as the drama requires it, unconventionally alluding to R&B, Tin Pan Alley and Broadway, sometimes within the same song.

Even if Tendaberry is at times more stark (and piano led) than its immediate predecessor, this is not an easy listening record; I get self-conscious and can’t listen to this with other people around, it demands too much attention.

I got this record this morning at Age UK when I was running errands for the family in Folkestone. Well, I had to get something out of the trip.