But seriously....

Sometimes what a sad clown has to say is no joke.


Tommy Tutone
One of Music's great ironies is that bands that tend to write humorous songs are bands that seem to have sad endings. Gaining attention with a "novelty song" is a mine field strewn with the cadavers of bands on the run from the one-hit-wonder Gestapo. Funny is rarely taken seriously, and that is why clowns wear make up. You can't expect to leave the bar with a girl's phone number if she knows you've been making balloon hats all day.

Much of what makes an enduring rock record lies in our ability to not understand the whole of it completely. Lyrics shrouded in mystery and metaphor, and vocals hidden behind reverb and echo, with some mumbling for effect, allow you to listen repeatedly without burning yourself out on the song. Songs with a punchline do not aim to be subtle, so getting hit over the head with it gets old very soon. The clearer the message, the more expendable the music. This is why Bob Dylan is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the guy who wrote "Happy Birthday" is a tool whose name nobody knows.

Any good joke has a set up, and the preamble to Tommy Tutone's showstopper "867-5309" was their 1980's eponymous debut album. This under the radar collection of grainy, yet fun songs played just like a Top Secret/Classified document would read; some real juicy nuggets with a thing or two that seem out of place. Columbia Records promoted the album in trench coat style as well, offering the record like a stolen watch for $3.99. Oddly this laissez-faire strategy had some effect, getting the album to # 68. "Angel Say No" does an effective job spotlighting the closing moments of a relationship that has deteriorated and the song bounces with its sad realization. With enough guts to be a rock record and fun enough to be a hit, the song reached the edge of the top 40, disputing the common notion that Tommy Tutone was a one hit wonder.

Listen to "Angel Say No"









Oingio Boingo

Oingio Boingo was a band that was serious about being funny. Launching on the Gong Show as "The Mystic Knights of Oingio Boingo", they have the pedigree to amuse but with the heart of a serial killer, methodical yet spontaneous, with ability to go from tickle to torture in the snap of a snare drum. Skimming the surface of the forbidden zone with mania and deadpan, this band was the menu item that you did not go into the restaurant for, but had to have once you got there. Songs were delivered with enough precision and fervor that you never knew if they were kidding or not.

If you are gifted with a sense of humor and a soul of darkness, balancing comedy and tragedy is not only attainable but desirable, allowing you to have a longer run in the music business. The laughs will get you noticed, however, we know it is the drama that gives your band a credible stance. So, after cross pollenating these two extremes in 3 albums and one "So Lo" record by the group's leader and songwriter, Danny Elfman, Oingio Boingo effectively merged all of the elements together for 1985's "Dead Man"s Party." The songs with the sly humor (and soundtrack placement) received most of the exposure on radio and the seemingly endless array of music video channels arriving on the scene. "Just Another Day" was released as the second single, and even though it was hidden in plain sight as the lead track, this perfect theme song for the bipolar disorder high school dance only reached #85 on the Billboard 100. A dense song about the emptiness of having nothing to look forward to and the stark reality of looking over your shoulder to see nothing following you--this, to me, is one of the band's finest moments.

Listen to "Just Another Day"






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Doing The Wave

It's much easier to jump on the bandwagon when you are already in a band...



Foghat

When New Wave entered my life in the late 1970's it felt a little like learning the Metric System. The songs/units of measure were shorter than what we were used to. It came from Europe and we were supposed to accept it while disregarding what was being listened to/used at the time. Eventually we allowed some of it to become part of our culture (2 liter bottles and eyeglass frames that were too big for your face). There are some things that will most likely never make the conversion. We will not eliminate miles for kilometers and we will never accept Foghat as a New 
Wave band.

Foghat is Boogie Rock and guys with big mustaches. It's the music that runs through your head when you open a Mickey's Malt Liquor or when you see a Camaro. The songs are long enough to time with a sundial. 

Popular music will cause bands to make wholesale changes to be or stay popular. In 1980, the most recent example was the Disco craze that saw numerous artists recording a "Disco" song no matter how removed from the scene they were. New Wave was a safer bet to conform to, yet still maintain some shred of credibility. The difference between the two is that there is no money in New Wave. Foghat should not be faulted for trying. They paid attention to the scene and made some changes in album design, the sound of the band, and they cut their hair. The band's lead singer Lonesome Dave Peverett, was a fan of New Wave, "It appealed to me, even though I felt Foghat was part of what New Wave was trying to replace. So I was kind of knocking myself in a way." The problem was that it still sounded like Foghat, but without the guitar hooks. The confusing "Tight Shoes" gave us the aptly titled "Stranger In My Home Town." Aptly titled because the London they knew had changed while they were out touring the football stadiums of the US. If you have ever made a meal at 3 am while you are drunk, you will experience deja vu upon hearing this song. The song is full of things that you would never normally put together, but there they are... so you might as well enjoy it.

Listen to "Stranger In My Hometown"









Nazareth

The louder your argument, the less prepared you are to have someone agree with you. In order to be right and sustain the feeling of superiority, someone m
ust be wrong. When the enemy changes sides by agreeing with you it confuses you to the point that you label the person a sellout for doing what you wanted them to do. Punk and New Wave music made some high volume points on the bloated state of '70's stadium rock, however, no one expected bands like Nazareth to buy into it. The band's sonic makeover was one part "you were right honey" husband-like reaction so he can return to watching a ball game and another part "we need to get back on the fucking radio." They got back on the radio with the album "Malice In Wonderland." What kept it from sounding like
 a cheap knock-off was the band mixing the current music scene with a few bottles of whiskey, making it a little more mature and worldly--like a bouncer at a New Wave bar.

While most of the record goes the angular and upbeat route, "Fast Cars" follows bands such as New Order and Wire down a dark alley. The results are a moody, sparse, and atmospheric departure from a band that thrives on big stadium anthems. The song, as good as it is on its own, is guilty by association. Getting AOR airplay on the heels of the rock radio hit "Holiday", people found it difficult to associate this song with this band. Much like a dog that speaks french, the uniqueness catches your attention until the novelty wanes and you just want the dog to bark again. Even though the album (according to the band themselves) "went nowhere with a bullet" in the UK, it reached #41 in the US and tempered the band's sound for future records.

Listen to "Fast Cars"









POST SCRIPT:

Foghat is sold out! You're welcome...

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It's 14:59 Somewhere

When These 2 Bands Did A Beer Commercial, They Traded The Top 40 For A 40 Ounce.


The Long Ryders

Beer or Records? This was one of the biggest dilemmas I faced during the early to mid-eighties. I could buy records and talk about girls, or I could go to a bar and buy beer and talk to girls (about records). The message we get here citizens is, when you combine beer and records, you have to give something else up. The Long Ryders combined the two and gave up career momentum.

The Long Ryders came out of a California music scene so crowded, there were labels for everything (Roots Rock, Paisley Underground, etc). In a pool this populated, it was hard to garner attention from anyone in radio or the record industry. The Long Ryders album "State Of Our Union" was midnight bar fight too earnest to ignore. B
ristling with distorted power, it was the perfect counterbalance to the shopping mall new wave and poseur arena rock flooding the airwaves. "Looking For Lewis And Clark" showed a band full of promise and guile, determined as gunslingers to save us from a bleak synth pop future. Then they did a commercial for Miller Beer and ironically took it in the can.

The key to surviving having a sponsor is to distance your band far enough away from the product so no one thinks you actually use it. Does anyone think that The Rolling Stones splashed on a little musk before hitting the stage in 1981 when Jovan sponsored the tour? Or that The Who ever opened a Schlitz beer on their "first" farewell round? No. Because of it, those bands live on, while you couldn't find anything left from those brands no matter how long you looked through the recycle bins.

Guilty by association, the band were not only "branded" but scarred as "sell outs" by the same people who chant "Hey-Ho Let's Go!" at the ballgame or thought that Playing a Trio song while watching some dorks in a VW was cute. Undaunted, The Long Ryders let the the wounds heal and released a solid record in '88 ("Two Fisted Tales") and have recently reformed for some tour dates.


Listen to "Looking For Lewis And Clark"









The Del Fuegos

The Del Fuegos were a solid blue collar rock band from Boston with a sound and a pedigree that
seemed to have a perfect image for a beer commercial. Miller Beer initially enlisted the band to do a song for a compilation album (with other bubbling-under regional bands like Fayrewether, Joe "King" Carrasco, Son Seals and The Producers) in 1984. So, when it was time to shoot an ad featuring bands and beer, The Del Fuegos were the logical 1st choice.

This was an honest band and that is what hurt them in this case. Anyone that watches any amount of television knows that there is no place for truth in a television commercial. Secondly, this band had not established a national credibility yet. If you have credibility, you get a pass for perceived errors in judgment (Robert DeNiro in the "Rocky and Bullwinkle" movie). Without credibility, you get passed over (everyone else in the "Rocky and Bullwinkle" movie).

The Del Fuegos deserved a better fate for what was seen as a lapse in judgment. But what could they do? Rock radio at this time was infiltrated by made-over established bands, shiny dance rock, or a combination of both. The college stations that did play the records had signals that barely reached the city limits. Miller came with cash and nationwide television exposure. The band wanted people to hear this record...

The people that did, heard a heart on their rolled up sleeve, pure rock record. One part Rockabilly sideburns, 2 parts broken heart with all the gimmicks and effects thrown in the dumpster behind the building that housed what remained of the J. Geils Band. "Don't Run Wild" kicks off the LP "Boston, Mass" with an uneasy build up to critical mass mirroring the structure of an actual discussion of the topic of "running wild". The band was a throwback in sound but ahead of the pack in the marketing department. With all the bands that have music in ads today, was it really so bad? Judge for yourself:

The Del Fuegos for Miller Beer

Listen to "Don't Run Wild"






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Turnover

Sometimes Taking The Wrong Side Is The Right Move.


Robert Plant

Unreleased B-Sides are the musical equivalent of finding the last beer in the back of a refrigerator at a party. It could be it is back there for a reason...like a Zima. However, if it's a legitimate beer, the satisfaction of having the last real drink in the house is better than the actual beer itself. When you are Robert Plant you don't need to be fishing around some stranger's ice box for stray brews, so why release a non album B-Side not once, but 3 times?

Being in a big name band will create initial excitement about a solo album, however, if the record's no good, the excitement will only last about as long as it takes to fold a 12'' vinyl platter and flush it down the toilet. Plant was wise enough to know for every Pete Townshed solo record, there are 5 Greg Rolie and Jimmy Destri flops (WHO?...exactly). With this understanding, Plant knew he had to make an album that would make his own mark without alienating the existing fan base, as well as providing the clout to go in other directions in the future.

Plant eventually started playing around London with a band that carried the foreshadowing name, The Honeydrippers. During this time, he started to write and record with the band guitarist, Robbie Blunt. Blunt gave Plant a powerful sound to accompany his hookah smoke covered lyrics, and his guitar playing style was adept and different enough from his predecessor to give the record the cache it needed.

All this brings us to why "Far Post" was not included on the "Pictures At Eleven" album. The answer is: I don't know. Good enough to be a single, it was the B-side of the 12" "Burning Down One Side/Moonlight In Samosa", It was the B-side to the 1st single ("Big Log") off his next album and was included on the "White Nights" soundtrack. Like a baby you find waiting for you on your doorstep, this song's playful mystery finally found a home on the re-released version of "Pictures At Eleven".

Listen to "Far Post"










The Cars

In 1984 The Cars were poised to become one of the biggest bands in the world. Starmaker "Mutt" Lange was about to do for The Cars, what he did for AC/DC and Def Leppard--give them a multi-platinum across the board smash album. That summer when people flocked to see The Cars perform live, they saw a show with all the excitement of watching a steak cook at room temperature. Everything they played sounded just like the record and no one in the band moved from where they were standing. You can't be the biggest band in the world if you introduce every song by saying "you're getting VERY sleepy..."

While The Cars' live show could never be described as "putting the needle in the red"--the glossy, but dark, pop record "Heartbeat City" could. Reoccurring underlying themes of the perils of drug use, make the needle in question not for RPM's but for "H". "Hello Again" leads off the album as a wake up call to someone out of touch with reality due to a chemical vacation. You have the self-medicating tone of "Drive" and the title track plus the song about going from the monotony of the bad, to excitement of the worse "Breakaway"


"Breakaway" was rightfully left off of the album because it did not sound like anything on Heartbeat City. The production polish was not there either, leading me to believe it was a leftover from Rick Ocasek's solo effort "Beatitude" ("Drive" also came from that session, but it fit better with Ben Orr's vocal style.), or possibly they need some more songs about girls...

"Breakaway" was released as the B-side to "Why Can't I Have You". Radio programmers looking for something upbeat to play from this album gave the song a run of about 2 weeks.


Listen to "Breakaway"






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