AM pick to click (in another era)

The sheer hookiness of old pop can't be beat, and for discovering these songs at a moment's notice, YouTube is quite the inescapable destination. To wit, a ridiculous publicity film for a song I haven't heard on the radio in three decades, Bobby Bloom's terminally catchy "Montego Bay":



And since we're saying goodbye to the season this weekend (although, as we all know, the seasons are staggered now that the planet is being melted off its fucking axis), I evoke this ditty, which is actually in occasional "rotation" on oldies radio:

Uncle Floyd interview episode up now on YouTube

I've been asked to make entire episodes of the show available online, but haven't as of yet for a number of reasons, including time, bandwidth, and arbitrary enforcement of copyright claims and "adult" content on sites like YouTube. In any case, I decided that the Rudy Ray Moore episode shouldn't be alone up there, so I've now put up the entirety (minus my opening intro) of the Uncle Floyd Show cast interview that took place in the dressing room of the very-much-missed Bottom Line in Manhattan way back in 1997. I loved hanging out with these gents back then, and am very happy to say that Floyd Vivino, Artie Delmar, and Michael T. Wright are still in the game today, entertaining folks in various ways around the NJ/NY area (and beyond!). Mugsy died in 2005, but is well remembered by fans of the Floyd show for his great musical parodies, cartoons, and generally bugging Floyd from off-camera (see the Hour Magazine segment contained in this episode). This is an episode I enjoy revisiting, so I'm glad to share it with folks beyond NYC via this thing called the Net.

Part one is here:



Part two is here:



Part three is here:

Not feeling their Fab-best: the Beatles meet Peter Sellers

And on the trail of celebs visiting other celebs in their place of business, here we have Peter Sellers visiting the Beatles during the recording of their album “Get Back" which, of course, wound up being Let It Be. It’s not an unfriendly meeting, but it’s not exactly chummy. John cracks wise about drugs as Sellers is leaving (which is where the damned clips begins). Then there’s an amazing bit of John looking comatose. This is not the happy Dr.-Winston-O’Boogie-meets-Merkin-Muffley clip you thought it was gonna be:



Since that was such a sort of a downer, here are the Beatles and Sellers in happier times, as he presents them with a music award:



And maybe this one for good measure:



And, finally, because I never tire of this movie, but had never, ever seen the original trailer with Peter and Ringo contributing verbal nonsense:



These posters deserve my thanks, as does friend and Funhouse webmaster Arnold for pointing me to the “Get Back” encounter.

David Bowie visits Warhol's factory and starts to mime...

I shall have it known that I am not a mime hater. But there is a time and place for the art of pantomimickry, and I’m not sure it’s when you’re a hot young British rock star visiting Warhol’s Factory. Nevertheless… here is a mind-warpingly ridiculous slice ’o history, as we see young David Bowie visit the man whom he immortalized on “Hunky Dory.” As captured by somebody’s camera, David goes into a mime routine (yes, he does the invisible wall thing), and then just sorta hangs out while Angie yells stuff at someone in the background. This is extremely rare and I’m glad I’ve now seen it and preserved. Is it good? Well, that one’s up to you….



Thanks of course to the intrepid poster and to good friend Sara for pointing me to this one. (There’s a more innocuous part two, by the way — no more mime, though….)

A “wrecker” goes away: Deceased Artiste Larry Knechtel

Keyboard player, guitarist, bassist, and arranger Larry Knechtel died this week at 69. He most recently worked with the Dixie Chicks, Neil Diamond, and Elvis Costello, but had accumulated an incredible body of work as a session musician. One of his first professional stints was as a member of the Rebels backing Duane Eddy (quite a nice beginning in rock ’n’ roll). Among his many, many accomplishments are being a member of the Seventies uber-pop group Bread and being the unseen bassist for the Doors (on their studio recordings — yeah, they neeed one from time to time).

Knechtel was a part of the incredible group of studio musicians dubbed the “Wrecking Crew” by drummer Hal Blaine, the performers who played on not just dozens but hundreds of pop hits during the Sixties — pretty much everything recorded on the West Coast that wasn’t done by a self-contained band like the Jefferson Airplane. Thus, Knechtel was part of the ensemble that backed Nat “King” Cole and Sinatra as well as the Beach Boys, the Mamas and Papas, the Fifth Dimension, and yes, the Monkees (all those other groups didn’t play their own instruments, so it actually wasn’t a shock at all to insiders that the Monkees didn’t play theirs). The ensemble are thought of primarily in connection with their amazing work with Phil Spector and Brian Wilson. Here’s a trailer for a forthcoming (or did it already go?) docu on the group:



A little round-up of clips presenting songs Wechtel played on that are essential to me, each in their own way. First, an obvious one, “Secret Agent,” Johnny Rivers:



Pop music rarely gets as dramatic as Barry McGuire’s marvelously overbaked “Eve of Destruction”:



“Classical Gas,” Mason Williams (which I deeply love and which makes me fly back to the world of my childhood):



A Monkees song people haven’t heard to distraction (and which has been left on Youtube — Warner Music has pillaged the site; as if it matters, guys, everyone has your music for free, anyway....). From the first LP, “Tomorrow’s Gonna Be Another Day”:



Knechtel played on the perfect “Pet Sounds.” “God Only Knows”:



Flipping forward to the Seventies and an AM staple that I can’t shake out of my head no matter how old I get, Sammy Johns, “Chevy Van”:



And even though he played piano and arranged “Bridge Over Troubled Water” for Simon and Garfunkel, and played bass for the Doors, I think he should be remembered for his fancy playin’ on this ditty if nothing else. A singularly Seventies-sounding record, Bread’s “Guitar Man”: