The Beach Boys – “Here Comes The Night” b/w “Baby Blue” (CRB 12-7204) (1979)

Housed in a cute Rene Magritte-aping sleeve, featuring one of Dennis Wilson’s touching final prehumous* recordings on the b-side and pressed on luminous blue vinyl, “Here Comes the Night” was, nonetheless, an inauspicious end to a decade that saw the Beach Boys plumb the very depths of competence. I’d never heard it before, so was happy to part with a pound at the Etchinghill bootfair last Saturday for the pleasure, but truth be told, this sounds more like a Stars On 45 cover of the Beach Boys than a tune by the actual band. There’s a reason for this.

Drafted in when Brian proved un-up to the task of producing (despite a new CBS contract obliging him to do just that), once and future Boy Bruce Johnston sprinkled a lil’ disco fairy dust on a twelve year-old Wild Honey track in much the same way he did with the Chantays’ instrumental “Pipeline” two years previously. The original “Here Comes the Night” represents one of the closest things the band produced to an R&B track, hence, I suppose, its nomination for a dance update. Alas, despite a high energy content and fluid bass part, the song is tedium itself, the familiar thump/strings/sheen of disco provided by an array of session musicians. Now, session musicians had featured on some of the band’s best music, but never had they sounded so faceless. The single edit on the b-side makes a little more sense as a song than the 11 minute version, where verses, choruses, backing “oooo’s” come in and out in the most disembodied, arbitrary fashion. And let us be honest, this is not on the funky end of the disco spectrum.

But the similar vintage Four Seasons had managed a few disco hits. The Bee Gees transformed themselves likewise, so why not the Beach Boys? Perhaps because the Four Seasons and Bee Gees were simple vehicles for pop songs, while Brian Wilson & co. were, despite a calculated banality, not so simple; a band identified with, and weighted down by, an ethos/myth that couldn’t accommodate disco glitz. And having capitulated to travelling an oldies route following the enormous popularity of the Endless Summer and Spirit of America compilations, booty shaking in the direction of the Hustle was confusing to say the least. Certainly, this awkwardness, this uneasiness is more than apparent on a contemporary TV appearance, all beardy and dad-dancing, promoting the single (and note Dennis relegated to a ride cymbal!). Trouble was, at least commercially, the disco backlash had already begun in earnest, especially among the classic rock supporters constituting 98.6% of the BBs’ fan base, and fairly sharpish, this late-in-the-day, smacks-of-desperation misfire was dropped from their live set list.

So, Last Gasp for Beach Boy Radio Relevance or once again proof that anything can Go Disco? Answer: Yes.

*as opposed to, uh, posthumous.

Donna Summer

Donna Summer. RIP.

Saturday Night Fever (RSO 2658 123) (1977)

R.I.P. Robin Gibb

The ultimate charity shop album?

“The next time I see a clean copy of the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack album, I’m going to buy it,” I grandly announced to my youngest son last Sunday; he and I were watching Family Guy whose music is by Walter “Fifth of Beethoven” Murphy and I was inspired. Who would have guessed that only two days later my scheme would be seen to its completion apon alighting the cafe of the Lord Whiskey Cat Sanctuary? Well, it was probably a safe bet: the album sold something like 15 million copies in its first year of release, going on to total 40 million world-wide at present.

While I already have the relevant BGs music on the rather lovely 3Lp Greatest, I have never owned SNF. I say never, in fact I did possess a 3M reel-to-reel version, taped from my friend Tim Tharp back in the day. Along with the track listing, I remember denoting myself as “producer”. I had recorded it, you see.

As it happens, the Brothers Gibb outshine nearly everything else on this double Lp, with only The Trammps’ “Disco Inferno” (all 11 mins. of it!) and “Open Sesame” by Kool & the Gang measuring up.  Though not produced or played by the band, session singer Yvonne Elliman’s “If I Can’t Have You” and “More Than a Woman” by Tavares both counts as a Bee Gees songs since they were written B., R. & M. Gibb.

That fact that I couldn’t even remember the other songs, despite playing the record a lot in 1978, goes some way to demonstrating their worth. “Boogie Shoes” falls short of KC & the Sunshine Band’s slight standards being a poppy 12-bar blues more akin to T-Rex. David Shire’s instrumental contributions pale in comparison to just about anything found here, let alone the toothsome stars of the SNF soundtrack. Their presence disrupts the album’s flow, even if they make the point that absolutely anything could “go disco”; this point is better made by the aforementioned Beethoven pastiche.

Alluded to earlier at club Thrifty Vinyl, we have a mixed result then–but at least Rick Dees’ “Disco Duck” didn’t make the final cut.

Madonna – The Immaculate Collection (1990)

No retail shopping for me on Record Store Day, just cheapo chazzing. In fact, I already had Immaculate Collection on CD*, but couldn’t resist this early singles double Lp helping of the pop martinet whose musical and visual image mongering takes David Bowie’s similar chameleonality to absurdly cynical lengths and whose glamorisation (leading ultimately, and ironically, to normalisation) of sexual fetishism has virtually defined all solo female pop singing subsequent.

The liner notes offer a remarkable balance of slavering and intellectual pretension. Oh, Madonna, you so bad!

More Herb Ritts action on the inner sleeves.

*I will likely Music Magpie the compact disc version.

JKD Band – “Dragon Power – A Tribute to Bruce Lee” 12″ (1978)

Synthesiser-led Hi-NRG disco twaddle occasionally punctuated by shrieks and murmurs attributed to Bruce Lee, this is a “tribute” in only the most southpaw of ways to the man patronisingly labelled a “teenage punk, martial arts superstar, colossal egoist, Hollywood screen idol and philosopher extraordinary (sic)” in correspondingly ridiculous liner notes. I was expecting such silliness but naïvely hoped for better when I bought “Dragon Power” this morning from Bernardos in Hythe.

The Undisputed Truth – Smokin’ (WHK 3202) (1979)

Producers don’t usually get front cover credit, but such was Norman Whitfield’s command over urbanspacegroup The Undisputed Truth that he’s namechecked in centered, 36-pt. type for all to see on premier face of the final UT Lp sleeve. Not that it seems to have done them much good, the record didn’t even chart and the album’s only single (“Show Time”) struggled to #55 US R&B. As it happens, while many of the right funky moves are made and not that this is a total washout by any means, there is a let-down, second-tier silliness about Smokin’–I mean, talk of  their funk being “a brand new thing” and “Tazmanian monsters” and whatnot, not to mention guff about “there’s life on other planets”–that smacks of trying-to-hard-with-things-we-don’t-really-believe careerism.

So: more smoke than fire.

Another £1-still-in-its-original-plastic googah from this afternoon’s ransacking of the Lord Whiskey Cat Sanctuary Tea Rooms*.

*I did not make this place up.

Curtis Mayfield – Do It All Night (CUK 5022) (1978)

Curtis makes late 70s foray into shallow disco with correspondingly faceless results–it certainly gets short shrift from people who otherwise like Mayfield. In fact, the record isn’t that bad, it’s just not Curtis or Roots and the shimmering, superficial, polyrhythmic celebration of the disco high life tends to overwhelm the singer’s fragile, quavery vocals. Really, it could be just about anybody behind the mic.

BTW, this was not 20p as stickered on the cover, I wish. No, Help the Aged in Hythe yesterday charged me 99p for the privilege.

This was the last of Mayfield’s initial run on Curtom.

The Jacksons – Destiny b/w Blame It On the Boogie (Epic 12-6983) (1979)

MURRAY FOUND GUILTY OF MICHAEL JACKSON’S MANSLAUGHTER

Crowds Cheer As ‘King of Pop’ Comes Back To Life

(Los Angeles, CA) – Jubilent crowds gathered outside the Los Angeles Court of Criminal Justice cheered wildly as L.A. district attorney Jason Bexley announced that a criminal jury had found Dr. Conrad Murray guilty of the involuntary manslaughter of singer Michael Jackson. At the same time, Jackson himself emerged from Holly Terrace at Forest Lawn Memorial Park’s Great Mausoleum, alive and well, to announce the resumption of his “This Is It” series of concerts which had been postponed due to the self-styled King of Pop’s death.

On her way out of Monday’s court hearing where Murray received his guilty verdict, Jackson’s sister LaToya told the crowd of media and fans, ”Justice has been done, which has brought Michael back to life and made everything alright.”

Fans have been alternately elated at Jackson’s return from the grave and calling for revenge to be meted out to Dr. Murray.

“I’m so glad Dr. Murray has been found guilty of killing our beloved Michael,” said one fan who’d travelled all the way from Columbus, Ohio to keep vigil outside the Los Angeles courtroom during the trial. “I hope he gets the f*cking chair.”

“I’ve already got tickets for MJ’s London O2 Arena shows,” he added.

The singer called for fans and media “to respect my privacy and that of my family at this exciting time of my post-post death.”

[NB: Jacksons 12" bought in Sandwich, Kent chaz for a quid--excellent long version of "Boogie"]

Elton John – The Thom Bell Sessions ’77 (Rocket Record Co. XPRESS 13-12) (1979) and Spinners – From Here To Eternally (1978) (Atlantic SD 19219)

A belated and deserved hit for Sir Elton when re-edited eight years back, “Are You Ready For Love” had already had a fairly tortured birth when originally released over three decades ago. Recorded, according to the sleeve notes, in Autumn ’77, but not released until after a January ’79 remix, this 8 minute + mix features an extended breakdown which builds the song back up over a couple of minutes around the two-thirds mark. Not only is this quite different from the hit 2003 edit, it differs markedly from the original 1977 take featuring the Spinners’ Jonathan Edwards vamping on co-lead vocals. While John’s made his fair share of hackwork makeweights, I think this is a great song, a great production and a great performance.

Hey, Spinners, I got Frank Herbert on the line. He wants his cover art back.

A decent version of the song also appears on the [Detroit] Spinners‘ tepid, late period Lp From Here To Eternally, a record distinguished less by its content than its thoroughly inexplicable sexy Sci-Fi cover.

Both records were had at different times from the Ashford boot fair.

Lipps, Inc. – Pucker Up (Casablanca LL0679) (1980)

Believe it or not, based on a genuine regard for “Funky Town” I had high hopes for the Minneapolis disco outfit’s second Lp. But no. This is an awful, joyless album of shrieking, obvious lyrics and oppressively “serious” disco music auteured by a “Weird” Al Yankovic lookaline compelled to see his name in print for a combined label and liner note total of one score and five times.

I played the closing instrumental, entitled “Jazzy” for fuck’s sake, at 45rpm to see if that would help. It didn’t.