Well, that's what you might've been saying if you were a child in 1967. It isn't 1967 anymore, but some do have nostalgia for those days. The Beatles were alive, nobody heard of "Jihad," and record stores were wonderlands of fun and excitement and what they sold was valuable. Instead of reality shows on TV, there were actual attempts at entertaining you! And yes, two such attempts on January 9th, 1967, were super hero sitcoms "Captain Nice" and "Mr. Terrific."

Like a previous year when two similar-concept shows magically arrived together ("The Addams Family" and "The Munsters") most viewers had a favorite. They favored either the more satiric show, or the goofier one. In this case, the more satiric show was "Captain Nice," produced by Buck Henry, who had worked on "Get Smart."

Following the "Get Smart" formula somewhat, the idea was to have the lead actor play it straight, which would make things even more ludicrous. With a serious actor (William Daniels) rather than a stand-up comic (Don Adams), "Captain Nice"did let the viewer find the laughs without the laughtrack having to boom. In the "99" Barbara Feldon role was attractive Ann Prentiss (sister of Paula, who had once starred in a sitcom called "He and She" with husband Richard Benjamin). Tragically, Ann would eventually suffer some kind of mental breakdown, ending up in jail for a raving plot to murder Benjamin. She died in prison in 2010.

The quickie theme song is by Vic "Addams Family" Mizzy and Jerry Fielding. And it rhymes "hammers" with "pajamas."

"Captain Nice" premiered on January 9th, and lasted 15 episodes. Also premiering on January 9th, and lasting 17 episodes, was "Mr. Terrific."

Mr. Terrific, starred the forgotten Stephen Strimpell, who had better luck in off-Broadway plays and in teaching acting (he died in 2006). His boss on the show was played by reliable moon-faced grouch John McGiver. In the photo, Steve is posing with Dick Gautier, who many will remember as "Hymie the Robot" on "Get Smart." The show had a short run but a much longer TV theme, narrated by voiceover legend Paul Frees. The theme song in the background is by Gerald Fried (better known for his incidental music for many episodes of "Mission Impossible." Gilligan's Island""Star Trek" and "Roots").

The "Captain Nice" theme doesn't try to set up any narrative, but "Mr. Terrific" informs viewers that the ordinary Stanley Beamish got his super powers after experimenting with a "power pill..." but few cared. Well, except Germans. For reasons too peculiar to even contemplate, while "Captain Nice" is only around in bootleg form, a German DVD company actually issued "Mr. Terrific" on DVD as "Immer wenn er Pillen nahm (Whenever He Took Pills)" with German dubbing (and the original English as another menu option). Ist dat gut? I haven't bought the set to find out. Listening to the ol' theme song is enough nostalgia for me.

Theme Song your download of CAPTAIN NICE

Theme Song your download of MR TERRIFIC (No captcha code, wait time or request to pay for a premium account. No use of a weasel cloud service, no shout box for idiots to demand entire albums especially of items they can buy, and no tip jar requesting Paypal donations for the blogger's "hard work." )

That's why the download is Homer & Jethro's version of the "Camp Runamuck" theme. That was Dave Madden's first sitcom as a regular ("Alice" was his last…another show I never watched.) After "Camp Runamuck," Dave joined the cast of the fading "Laugh In," which did give him a chance to do the kind of gags that were part of his formative years as a stand-up comic and magician. There are probably existing episodes of "The Ed Sullivan Show,""Hollywood Palace" and "The Merv Griffin Show" featuring the blond-haired goofball doing his harmless and zany antics.

Madden was one of many actors who played harmless, slightly goofy average guys…Jerry Van Dyke and Tom Poston were two more, and with a little slow-burn edge, there was Dave Ketchum and Allan Melvin. Madden did have a more complex role on "The Partridge Family" than he did as just another simpleton at the "Camp Runamuck" summer camp. As Shirley Jones said the other day, "“His relationship with Danny Bonaduce is what made the show work; this strange, mad little boy and the grown man who was even worse as a father figure.”

Dave had a hint of the rube about him, but was not from America's South; he was born in Canada, and raised in Terre Haute, Indiana. Indiana, of course, gave America the original all-American Hoosier comic, Herb Shriner, and later on, David Letterman. Madden left Indiana State Teachers College to join the Air Force in 1951, and as part of a Special Services unit, entertained the troops as an mc and comic. Over the years, Madden's brand of All-American nice-if-off personality made him welcome in guest-star roles in a number of classic stupid TV shows, including "Happy Days,""The Love Boat" and "Fantasy Island." For more on Madden, there's his autobiography, with a pun title reflecting his most famous role and a particular type of deli sandwich (featuring sauerkraut, corned beef, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing), "Reuben on Wry."

The twice-married actor spent his last months at a Jacksonville, Florida hospice, dealing with myelodysplasia, a blood disease…the same problem that eventually took the lives of actors Larry Hagman and Pat Hingle, and writers Roald Dahl and Nora Ephron.

CAMP RUNAMUCK - instrumental TV THEME SONG

CAMP RUNAMUCK - sung by Homer and Jethro

Well, yes, there were technically three of them. First, the terrible theme song used for the pilot episode (which didn't feature some of the show's most popular stars). Then there was the familiar theme that most everyone knows by heart, all about that "fateful trip." It was in the second season that the theme song was revised from "and the rest" to mention "the Professor and Mary Ann," the two "normal" members of the cast.

One of the "normal" ones died, at age 89, a few days ago. Russell Johnson (November 10, 1924-January 16, 2014) made some extra cash just by signing his name on 8x10's. Nice work if you can be remembered, and generations have continued to be entertained by the lovable cast…rather than the feeble jokes and predictable knockabout visual comedy. "We had a great chemistry," Russell Johnson recalled.

Technically his role was the least interesting. He was almost the straight man for everyone else. He certainly was the only member of the cast that had any possible chance with Ginger the movie star. As Tina Louise once told me, "It would've been great if he could've just gotten us off the island." Three years of that career-wrecking show was enough for her. Dawn Wells told me that she viewed it as a "double edged sword," that playing Mary Ann may prevented her from getting good roles afterward, but at least she was well known, and IS well known wherever she goes: "I get on a plane, or go into a restaurant...and people will actually start singing the "Gilligan" theme!" Yike.

I never met Johnson, but I think he felt the same way…that in exchange for a sort of career-ending role, there was enduring fame and life on the memorabilia circuit. There are a lot of respected actors who, in retirement, can't sit at a memorabilia table and get $20 or $30 for signing something. Russell Johnson could. Before "Gilligan," Johnson was best known for playing a sheriff on a few seasons of "Black Saddle," which starred Peter Breck. Let's just say that Breck, and quite a lot of other very fine, handsome and talented actors who starred on a 50-'s or 60's series…couldn't make the same kind of money Johnson could by making public appearances at fairs, store openings or comic book conventions. Heck, once in a while a fan might ask Johnson to sign a photo of himself in an episode of "Twilight Zone" or "This Island Earth" and "It Came From Outer Space."

Russell Johnson was a lucky guy. "The Professor" could've been played by Richard Denning, Guy Madison, Jack Larson, Robert Paige and many other nice looking guys with varying degrees of personality or comic skills. Which isn't to diminish his likability or talents, or that he played the role so ably and amiably, without being the traditional "absent-minded" professor or attempting, ala Bob Cummings, to be hilarious or irressistable.

Tina Louise, who for many years was notoriously uninterested in talking about "Gilligan's Island" or participating in memorabilia events about it, was at least instantly available to pay tribute to the last of the men of the island. "My prayers and condolences go out to his wife Constance and his family. He will always be in our hearts and remembered from 'Gilligan's island' as part of American pop culture history. He will truly be missed."

Missed indeed, because at 89, he was still active, making appearances to sign autographs and greet fans…fans who were dedicated enough to know his full name on the show: Professor Roy Hinkley. His autographed photos on eBay, by the way, go for a lot of money, because it took money to get 'em. Johnson was not prone to freebies, so dealers who had to pay $20 or $30, expect that much and more.

Your download? The awful calypso theme song from the pilot (which had three school teachers in the cast, rather than Ginger, Mary Ann and the Professor), and the complete "real' theme song and end song, including the names of all aboard.

Gilligan's Island TV theme and end theme, including "Professor and Mary Ann"

Gilligan's Island "calypso" TV theme used for the pilot episode which did not include Russell Johnson, Dawn Wells or Tina Louise

"Hysteria for a football team," as Sammy Walker sings it. Or, "teams."

Americans go berserk as the playoffs lead down to the moronically named "Super Bowl," which practically shuts down the entire country. Stores are deserted. Everyone is obsessed with watching a game that involves two teams that 90% of the country never saw in person and couldn't reach without a plane ticket. It involves a bunch of millionaires carrying on for a city they most likely don't live in. It also involves the incredible idiot hype over...get this...being sure to WATCH TV COMMERCIALS. "Wow, these super-rich companies that make enough to pay over a million dollars for 30 or 60 seconds...are gonna do their utmost to get our attention, so let's all WATCH and later talk about which ad was our favorite!"

That's hysteria for a football game, all right; another reason to hate Americans. Yes, let's all watch Madison Avenue's sick but "clever" ads...as if we haven't had enough of a slimy gekko, a loud duck, and all the other daily pests in TV ads.

Ooh ooh! Lets not move off the couch for a moment, in case we miss that Oprah ad everyone will be talking about Monday morning, or Schwarzenegger, or some "hilarious" beer commercial, or maybe just some stupid girl in Viley Virus gear getting risque (at only a lad-mag Maxim level). Oooh, she's whoring for some stinky cologne. Or an Internet company. Oooh, you go girl, you Go Daddy!

Oh yes…and let's not forget the hysteria over a "rock concert" plopped in at halftime. Let's watch some pretentious superstar asshole (Broooooose) singing his gratingest hits, or some fading rockers try to show they still have it, or some newcomer bitch giving a performance that would embarrass her gynecologist.

Meanwhile, people are dying. More than likely, a call to 911 on "Super Bowl" Sunday wouldn't get a response for a half hour, and the only personnel at the hospital on duty would be a few hapless bedpan cleaners.

The contrast between a stadium of screaming fans and one old woman's silent last moments on Earth, is the subject of Sammy Walker's song, which sort of takes his friend Phil Ochs'"Flower Lady" to a logical extreme. While a football game is going on (at the time, the Pittsburgh Steelers were one of the perennial top Super Bowl contenders) nobody is caring much about an old lady living…and now dying…alone.

Do I watch the fucking "Super Bowl?" Not usually. Thanks to the Internet, more "American-wanna be" fetishists are doing it. The ones who sit around calling themselves Cal E. Fornia and desperately import Velveeta over their own country's cheese. If I do watch, it's generally the last quarter, when it might be mildly interesting to see how the teams cope with pressure in a close game.

PS, it ain't exactly over on February 2nd. Once the football insanity has finally died down, including the post-game week of analysis and listing "favorite commercials" and how the rock act did...it's BASKETBALL idiocy, and an entire month of "March Madness." Ugh.

Watch the "Super Bowl?" I'd rather "support the artist" and go see Sammy Walker in concert. Unfortunately, ticket prices are high, times are tough, transit is impossible, and the number of decent venues for a singer-songwriter continue to shrink. Indie artists desperately need and often can't afford a booking manager, and small clubs don't pay enough to pay for the hotel and car fare. Some deserving artists chronicled here on the blog may perform locally once in a while…Severin Browne, Martin Briley, Turley Richards…and that's about it. Most aren't making money off royalties, either.

Sammy Walker was recently interviewed by Kasper Nijsen at the SomethingelseReviews.com website, mentioned that he hasn't performed much, except for a few local dates in North Carolina. It's just not easy for any singer-songwriter on an indie label, or no label, to get worthwhile gigs "Without the internet and the new technologies, no one would be listening to my songs at all..."

And most important is to actually listen: "Sometimes it seems a lot of people have forgotten to listen to the words to songs. I mean, the general listening public. I don’t know how many people today can still sit and listen to the words and contemplate what they’re hearing. But there’s always the exceptions, of course, who are influenced by that kind of music and do listen to music where the words are a big part of the song."

Listen to "Cold Pittsburgh Morning," one of the great songs that has often led reviewers to link Sammy Walker with such contemporaries as Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs.

Sammy Walker your download of "Cold Pittsburgh Morning " No egocentric password to type in. No "tip jar" request. No idiot capcha codes. No use of a "service" that wants you to pay to be a "premium" member for faster downloads…or that pays uploaders to steal from artists.

Here's a generic "I HATE YOU" song that goes on for two and a half minutes. Play it when you're fed up with anyone in the news from Kanye West to Kim Jung-un.

If it wasn't for bandwidth, I would've made this a half hour, so you could work out to it, or just leave it blasting as you escape a family member. Or retaliate against a noisy neighbor who plays shitty Eminem music all day or has a barking dog.

"I Hate U" is the name of da tune...which is also a reminder that you shouldn't stay in the past and listen to the fucking Beach Boys all day long. While there isn't all that much out there that's any good (just check out who won Grammy Awards!) there's a few good artists out there, and some worthy music. As for Simon Curtis, well, an obnoxious "I Hate U" techno-rap serves a good purpose. A loop of W.C. Fields muttering "I Hate You" might be a little too humorous. THIS thing ain't.

As for "Ill Folks Mix," that may imply a lot of effort, but at the moment I don't have that technology handy. I'm still learning my digital 8-track. All I did was cut out the blab (Simon was putting the hate on some bee-atch, of course) and leaving just the "I Hate U" lines, and doing some speed-balling (at some points I made him a bit pitchy, dawg).

Suffice it to say that anyone on the receiving end of "I Hate U" will hate it! Dat's da point, yo!

I Hate U (Ill Folks Mix) your download of Simon Curtis No egocentric password to type in. No "tip jar" request. No idiot capcha codes. No use of a "service" that wants you to pay to be a "premium" member for faster downloads…or that pays uploaders to steal from artists.

In a sane world, a skanky bitch remains a skanky bitch…and either marries a pimp, becomes a crack whore, overdoses in an alley, or ends up a welfare burden or a prison inmate. In THIS world, skank Kim Kardashian is famous and a millionaire. For what? She was nothing to begin with...

Her father was a shyster, a lowlife, a dirtbag, part of the slimy "dream team" that helped get sociopath O.J. Simpson acquitted of a double murder. What did she do except find some monkey moron and do some whorish skanky antics on a video? The video "somehow" got leaked all over the place. The old "slut makes a video and the media makes a big deal out of it" trick. The one that brought us beak-nosed half-mast-eyed useless Paris Hilton. Great, another role model for brain-dead ho-imitating white girls all over the world...

You'd think that some kind of bestiality sex tape would only mean 15 minutes of fame, but Kim's wily witch of a mutha, Kris Jenner, made sure to feed the media with mo' mo' mo' of mutha and ho' games. And, keepin' it real, let's place a good part of the blame on the lowlife public that actually WATCHES shitty reality shows like "Keeping Up with the Kardashians," or "Duck Dynasty" or anything to do with Honey Boo-Boo, "Jersey Shore" idiots or various "real housewife" and "real bachelor" shows. The pukey public gets what it deserves. My objection, is I don't deserve to have to suffer, too...by having to see Kim Kunt Trashian and/or Viley Virus or the misshapen Olsen Twins or crazy Amanda Bynes, Katy Perry, various siliconed nobodies, or all those stubble-faced "hunks" seen sashaying out of a disco with many a smirk. Or any idiot with a silly last name like Le Beauf or Cumbersnatch. Christ, "celebrities" are barely worth looking at in films, much less after hours.

In this "famous for being feces" age, Kunty Kim and and her creepy, ear-splitting sheep-bleating sisters and their dumbass boyfriends are inescapable. So is Kris Jenner and her sex-change double-ugly witch-faced loudmouthed subby-ex-hubby Bruce Jenner. Who the fuck cares when Kim changes the color of her hair, drops a blobby brat with her anus-lipped idiot Kanye, or throws "selfies" out there when there aren't enough paparazzi to pap-smear her puppy dog face all over the daily news. It's also ridiculous that anyone on the planet thinks that Kim Kardashian is "beautiful." The dumbing down and monkeying of popular music is bad enough...but to claim that a giant ass is attractive is just...shit. So is failing to see that a woman like Kardashian is ALL MAKE-UP and PLASTIC SURGERY. Even now, wipe all the gunk and spunk off her face...and she is a DOG. Da bitch.

Kim Kunt Trashian You "BITCH SLUT WHORE CUNT"

Here's the petition to Revoke the Brat's Green Card.

Seriously. Go ahead sign up and sign it. Happily, we're over the 100,000 needed, but adding to it just increases the fun!

The Biebs can't go a day without having his fucking name in the news? Then have it for "President Obama has received a petition to kick the snotty bastard back to Canada..."

Bieber's become the #1 male celebrity you love to hate. Only, enough is enough. Just GO AWAY Justin. And take Justin Timberlake with you...just because we don't need so many shitty songs sung by white assholes pretending to be black.

In Bieber's case, this is a jerk who has also been ripping off Michael Jackson for too long. It was one thing when he was just a silly-haired puppy, the new generation's Donny Osmond. Then he started the bad dancing, the crotch-grabbing, and looking like an ass-hat with a silly cap perched like a bubble atop his brainless skull.

Add being a wussy twerp who talks big when surrounded by his posse of drug-addled suck-ups. Add walking around with no shirt. Add annoying his neighbors with his loud parties, being a frat boy moron pissing in public, add a pointless curse at Bill Clinton, add throwing eggs like an 8 year-old snot nose at Halloween, add being a cynical greedhead selling overpriced perfume to little kids who are bankrupting their parents for him...and dozens and dozens of other offenses.

Oh yes, and add that every fucking time he gets into trouble, he sobs, "I'm just a kid." Then an hour later, he's back out partying with his homeys and whores and his dumbass father. Like his lookalike, Viley Virus, this is a poor role model. He's also a no-talent. He's also obnoxious and part of a trend of teen-pests that needs to be STOPPED. Maybe if he's out of the fucking country, the idiot media, his enablers in poor taste and bad behavior, will have to take it down a notch and stop encouraging brainless brats to prance over the line in falling-down pants or no panties at all.

Some say there should be an intervention...that Justin needs to have somebody step in and give him a good talking to. Well, he has parents, hasn't he? David Letterman and Bill Clinton have talked to the punk. He's going to listen to sobering words from Flava Flav?

People whine, "He's going to self-destruct if he doesn't get help." Yeah? So what's the big deal if he does self-destruct? We're not losing anyone with talent. Consider that the great "King of Pop" Michael Jackson is best remembered for his dopey moonwalk, and for only 2 or 3 decent songs: "Billie Jean,""I Want You Back" (when he was squealing with the Jackson 5) and "Bad." How many other songs of Michael's aren't dated? Even "Thriller" is no longer a thrill. Bieber hasn't done anything worth remembering at all. So who the fuck cares if he overdoses, runs a car into a tree, or gets AIDS from a Brazilian whore? Not me. That's why this blog offers him some lines from Homer and Jethro:

Drop dead, little darlin' drop dead!
Fall asleep smokin' cigarettes in bed.
Try and stop a locomotive with your head.
Drop dead, little darlin' DROP DEAD.

Sign the petition!

HOMER AND JETHRO your download of Drop DEAD Little Darlin'

You'll find the details of his life in many obits on the Internet, and reminders of some of the songs that inspired those that came after him (Bob Dylan, Phil Ochs, Bruce Springsteen, etc.) These include "Turn Turn Turn" made popular by The Byrds, the much-covered "Where Have All the Flowers Gone," and "We Shall Overcome." An ardent, enthusiastic fan of all music, his adaptations of old folk songs and ethnic oddities (such as the re-done and re-titled "Wimoweh") helped make "The Weavers" one of the most successful folk groups of all time.

He was the epitome of the folk singer…traveling all over this land, singing to young and old, a repertoire of tunes for any occasion, and unlike singers of today, music that everyone could sing along to. A singer-songwriter such as Harry Chapin or Joni Mitchell might have the crowd sing to one number ("All My Life's a Circle,""Circle Game") but with Pete, you could sing to most all of them, and with his voice not as strong in his 80's and 90's, he was pretty glad when people did.

His remarkable energy and enthusiasm kept him going almost to the end. He was still performing in concerts at 94, still riding the Hudson River and reminding people about conservation, and ruggedly chopping wood for his rural home in upstate New York until about 10 days before he died. How many 94 year-old men are out chopping wood during a Polar Vortex?? Maybe he should've eased up on the wood shopping. But Pete Seeger was not the kind of guy to ease up on anything.

I mentioned to him, of course, my admiration for his support of Phil Ochs…and shared a few personal joys about his work. First was his humor. People don't talk about it that much, because most of his popular songs are more spiritual or political. But the first song of his that really impressed me was "Talking Blues," which was part of the folk tradition of "rap," a talk set to minimal music. His "Talking Blues" most likely inspired the similar ones from Dylan and Ochs, but it's less a protest than just a lotta fun. That's Fred Hellerman lending his "greasy" guitar to the proceedings. On the same Weavers album, Pete performed a simple piece called "Over the Hills," on a recorder. And I wanted to learn to play that tune on a recorder, too, and I did.

So Pete inspired me to add the recorder to the list of instruments I was trying to learn, and to nearly memorize "Talking Blues" to amuse my friends. He also inspired me to a lifestyle of social protest and general muckraking, so of all the things he could've signed, I asked him to sign my CD of "Waist Deep in The Big Muddy and Other Love Songs."

"Waist Deep" was kind of the official re-emergence of Pete Seeger...and he didn't stop there. Decade after decade he was still active, still a force, and fortunately, he was well-rewarded with tributes, awards, and that Springsteen album a few years ago. He could be counted on, even in his 90's, to appear at important benefits, singing "This Land is Your Land" or another iconic song or two, so his death isn't just a reminder of a life well lived, but a life cut short…a remarkable thing to say about someone 94 years old. Only a few months ago he was autographing a new book about his life and his songs. Go find the ending of the film "The Grapes of Wrath," and watch the little speech Henry Fonda makes as Tom Joad. I'll paraphrase it this way; wherever there's a fight for what's right, Pete's music can be there. It can be there in two ways, let's not forget: by playing Pete Seeger's recordings or…by lifting up your head and singing it yourself, right out loud.

Below, "Waist Deep," and I've combined "Talking Blues" with, ending the little tribute, the gentle "Over the Hills."

TALKING BLUES - OVER THE HILLS Pete Seeger

WAIST DEEP IN THE BIG MUDDY Pete Seeger

A catchy album cover: that was the game back in the late 50's and early 60's. Record stores were choked-full of middle of the road albums for white-bred people who couldn't take classical or jazz…and wanted "easy listening" instead. The trouble was, it was too easy for outfits like the 101 Strings to churn out hundreds of mood music collections at a buck each. To get people to pay higher, record labels needed an attractive girl on the cover, or a famous name, or...both (in the case of Capitol's Jackie Gleason collection). Offbeat humor to grab the eye? That could work, too! By the time some goofus checked the back to see if Billy Barty was actually playing harp and doing some comedy as he did with Spike Jones, it didn't matter. "Oh what the hell, this does seem kinda interesting…"

The Stanley-Johnson Orchestra (note the hyphen, which is absent on the album cover) was owned and operated by Ray Stanley and Hal Johnson. Their main attraction, at least for this album, was the dual harp combo of Dorothy Remsen and Catherine Johnk. So there's the second flaw of the album cover...the gag makes it seem there's only one harp when there's two. A third flaw is that dopey "Spectra-Sonic Sound" note, with the color wheel...to trick people into thinking they're getting stereo. A fourth flaw is the idea anyone can find or catch a bus in Los Angeles.

Behind the two harpists the small orchestra consists of Mike Ruben and Clifford Hills on bass, Jeff Lewis and Paul Smith on piano, Haakon Bergh on flute, and a percussion team of Jerry Williams, Gene Estes and Frank Flynn.

This album is posted as a public service. While every lp-cover-lover would buy it for Barty, some might hold off and ask, "But how's the music?" You've got samples below. One sampler has the always sprightly (for some reason they added choo-choo train noises) "Holiday for Strings." It's the only remotely humorous track, if you consider train noises amusing. It was written by David Rose, who played it constantly when he was conducting the band for Red Skelton's TV series. It's followed by "Greensleeves," which gets a fairly anemic reading here.

The other download has another two tracks: "En Kelohenu" and "Beyond the Sea." Typical of lounge albums of the day, the idea was often to appeal to every ethnic group possible…and to try and sell a whole album because of one track. Customer: "Do you have "Beyond the Sea" in a nice, instrumental version, without some horrible French guy singing it, or Bobby Darin whooping it up?""Why let me check the catalog…hmm…it's on THIS soft music album…you might like some of the other tracks, too…"

"En Kelohenu" is not Hawaiian, it's Hebrew, and an attempt to lure Jewish buyers. The spelling for the song isn't that close to the original Hebrew, but there's a variety of ways to start off, including "Ein" or "Ain" and the last word can be Kelohanu or Keloheinu. The song is mostly restricted (pardon the expression) to Friday night and Saturday morning services in synagogue. Everybody joins in (unlike this rather gentle and elegant music-box version).

Translation: "There is none like our God." Most any kid who ever sat through a service waiting to get his hands on some sponge cake and grape juice, at least knows the next three couplets: "Ein kadoneinu, ein kemalkeinu, ein kemosheinu." It's just more of the same: "None like our Lord. None like our King. None like our Savior." Which is fine as long as the next lines aren't the Muslim-esque, "And OUR king is the best and we'll kill you infidels if you don't agree."

EIN KELOHENUH and BEYOND The SEA from HAVE HARP CAN'T TRAVEL

HOLIDAY FOR STRINGS and GREENSLEEVES from HAVE HARP CAN'T TRAVEL

Sure you have. Ortolani scored a variety of films in the 60's. These included: 7th Dawn (1964), Yellow Rolls Royce (1964), Old Shatterhand (1964), Castle of Blood (1964), The Glory Guys (1965), The Spy with a Cold Nose (1966), Africa Addio (1966), The Bliss of Mrs. Blossom (1968) and Anzio (1968).

He was active in the 70's and 80's, but mostly with exploitation films and obscure Italian horror movies and westerns…one of his most beloved being the immortal "Cannibal Holocaust." A song from "Madron" (1970) got some attention: "Till Love Touches Your Life," and Placido Domingo performed Riz's music for the 1985 film "Christopher Columbus." While not particularly well known, as a celebrity, in comparison to Henry Mancini, Elmer Bernstein or even Jerry Goldsmith, the maestro was revered in his native Italy and seen often on TV there, conducting his great music.

Actually, his first film score turned out to be his most famous internationally, and the one yielding a Top Ten single. This was for "Mondo Cane," and the title track was "More." What you'll hear below, is Riziero Ortolani's own preferred version, conducted by him (and that may be Riz on the piano, too). It's the version I remember best, having gotten it on a United Artists movie theme compilation album, one that featured many now-deceased masters of movie music. So, no ridiculous schmaltzy English lyrics for this version. The album cover is to your right...

It's always nice to have a little of Riz Orolani (March 25 1926-January 23, 2014) on the iPod, "More" or less. I know this is a short obit for him, but you didn't want any more "More"-onic puns, did you? And no jokes about Riz winning some awards in the shape of effeminate naked boys.

Put On the Riz: MORE as conducted by the composer himself.

Instant download or listen on line. No "capcha" codes, no obnoxious password using the name of the blogger, no porn ads, no wait while you're urged to buy a premium account from some outfit that thinks they should make money but not the copyright owners. No "tip jar" asking you to reward the blogger for his "hard work."

About the only thing that you can do for a guy who is 93 and dying, is make things as pleasant as possible. The right hospice can do it with attentive nurses and some mild "activities" for the ambulatory or reasonably awake (TV set in the room, a wheelchair ride into a recreation area for bingo games or volunteer entertainers to stage shows). Perhaps somebody put on a Richard Hayman album for everyone, and then pointed to the guy for one last round of applause. Mr. Hayman passed away a few days ago, February 5. Thus ended his marriage of 53 years…and he left behind two daughters and four grandchildren.

Perhaps Hayman's most enduring performance was back in 1978 at Madison Square Garden with the American Symphony Orchestra. William Shatner joined him for "Starship Encounters," an evening of pops music that included Stravinsky's "Firebird" (with laser lights), theme songs from classic movies (including "Star Wars") and Captain Kirk reading from Arthur C. Clarke's "Childhood's End."

Your download is a triple-play of tunes well titled for this sad occasion: "Never Again,""The Perfect Song" and "A Night of Stars." Though we won't see him again, and "The Perfect Song" is hardly even memorable much less perfect, how sentimental it would be to walk out into a "Night of Stars" and imagine Mr. Hayman's spirit spiraling to some distant heaven. What you'll hear is indeed "heavenly" music from another era…a time when life's stresses and pains could quaintly be soothed simply by "beautiful…easy listening" melodies, and…a drink. Let me quote from the liner notes to "Let's Get Together," the album from which these come, and from which last month I lifted the much more precocious and atypical track, "Turkey Mambo."

"Like the selection of drinks on the menu of a swank cocktail lounge, this selection of music for after 5pm relaxation runs the gamut of pleasure….Melody for every taste and temperament designed to wear off the day's tensions, is Hayman's "Mission Accomplished." Richard Hayman's harmonica is interwoven into many of the melodies like the tinkling, cooling ice chips that put that extra sparkle into an evening's drink." Now you know why one of my ambitions was to write album notes! Alas, by the time I got hired to do some, the CD age had forced me down to less than 500 words, and the mp3 age meant…none at all. Am I bitter? How can I be, when I can listen to fucking "easy listening" music from Richard Hayman? "I'd like to order my drink, bartender. And turn down that Jay-Z junk you've been playing…I can hardly hear my iPod and 'The Perfect Song.'"

Richard Hayman Three tracks from "Let's Get Together," featuring "The Perfect Song."

This is big nostalgia...for people 55 to 75. That's kind of a narrow demographic to hype, but the two surviving Beatles fall into that age bracket, and, happily, Beatles music is still so popular that people of all ages can celebrate their achievement. PS, it sure beats the other 50th anniversary...the assassination of JFK. Yes, I remember both...and this 50th certainly brings back more pleasant memories. "Beatlemania," it must be remembered, was ignited in America and may indeed have been sparked by a need to seize on something to get over the young president's death and rejuvinate the nation's optimism and youthful spirit...yeah yeah yeah!

America's feverish enthusiasm for The Beatles reached its peak when the Fab Four hit the Sullivan show on February 9th. Would they live up to the hysteria? Damn right! This triumphant show, with the screaming girls and the ebullient foursome handing in a charismatic set of performances, confirmed a new era of rock…and the rest really is history.

It was pretty much after the Sullivan show that the earlier Beatles hits known only in England, including "She Loves You" and "Please Please Me" turned up in America on obscure labels such as Swan and Tollie. Soon many obscure labels were cashing in on The Beatles.

It seemed every other record was either a Beatles cover or some kind of silly novelty. Capitol itself had Donna Lynn's "My Boyfriend Got a Beatles Haircut." There were plenty of Beatles Backlash tracks, too. It was a toss-up here, between tossing a bunch of the idiot tunes onto the blog, or the green-eyed envy numbers. Since the latter are a bit more obscure, they won. So let's listen to some of the grousers and dreamers who tried to reference The Beatles and get some girls to pay attention. But no, these shits never hit the fans.

The five finalists:

1. I'm Better Than The Beatles. Brad Berwick hoped enough haters would buy his little ditty, but nobody was listening.

2. I Wanna Be a Beatle by Gene Cornish and The Unbeetables (get it?). At least this one is kind of harmless in stealing from "She Loves You" and seeming about to riff into "I Wanna Be Your Man." It's actually kind of complimentary…

3. Beatle Maniacs by Ray Ruff and the Checkmates. Another jealous Buddy Holly-type grumbles, "The Beatles, they're the worst…" and tries to show that insipid rockabilly is much better. Yeah, there's also some line about his girl not caring about him because he doesn't have "shaggy hair."

4. The Beatle Bomb. After stealing a chunk of "She Loves You," the lead singer of The Exterminators, with a pretty horrific British accent, moans "By Jove I'll get them yet," and the band plays a somewhat clever but awful combo of surf music and a classic funeral march. Can this stubborn "bomb" of twangy guitar music defeat the Mersey sound? "Oh no""Yeah yeah""Oh no""Yeah yeah yeah…by Jove I think we've done it!" Yes, if you mean created a cult item a few collectors would pay big bucks for decades later.

5. "It's Comin Thru The Doors" by Bobby and the Blue Jays is a dig at the "clanging banging Limey Liverpool sound." The lyrics somehow reduces the Fab Four to three, as Bobby chronicles the beginning of the band that refused to go to a barber and now have somehow stolen his girl, and worse: "Oooh, they wanna hold my hand." A very confused fellow, this lead singer.

The 50th Anniversary of "Beatlemania" is supposed to make you nostalgic, make you buy Beatles merchandise, and, hopefully, make you feel good that something from your childhood still holds up as relevant. A hotel convention in New York was devoted to dealers trying to sell old memorabilia (like a can of Beatles hair spray for $3,000). Paul, Ringo and the widows of John and George did appear on TV for a "Lifetime Achievement Award," and David Letterman, had a "Beatles week" of shows…but wasn't able to get Paul and Ringo to turn up (Sean Lennon, yes).

And yes, if you go to a taping of Letterman's show, it's impossible not to look around and think, "So...this is where The Ed Sullivan Show was broadcast...The Beatles were right on THAT stage..."

Everybody who was alive back then, including me, has had at least a few conversations with others about that extremely unique period in time. Last night I did play a few hours of Beatles covers...in addition to checking out some of the cash-ins. I also played tracks from the latest "Beatles at the BBC" album...still wondering why, 50 years later, Capitol and Emi were so sparse about "Beatle Rarities," live tracks and other "bootleg-type" stuff.

Wasn't that a time? Talk to any of us over 50 guys, and you'll hear more or less the same anecdotes...how we danced around the room to "I Want to Hold Your Hand," how we were glued to Ed Sullivan and our transistor radios (what an image), and how, with varying degrees of affluence, we bought not only the vinyl, but Beatles collector cards, magazines, toys and games. Yeah (yeah yeah) I combed my hair down, and experimented with a Liverpool accent. One thing I didn't do was show my allegiance by wearing some stupid pin like "I Like Paul." My large pin said "Help Stamp Out Beetles," which I bought as a joke-novelty. So what happened; I got chased down the street by a gang of girls who didn't notice the typo and/or didn't think it was funny. And I was too young to appreciate being chased down the street by a gang of girls.

FIVE "BEATLES BACKLASH" TRACKS...hear Brad Berwick, Ray Ruff, The Exterminators, The Unbeetables and Bobby and the Blue Jays... ...Guys sulking, sneering and dreaming about Beatles fame!

The craze for moog was winding down, and really, it was a little late for the unknown Chris Stone to amuse anyone with yet another "let's moog up music that shouldn't be moog'd" album.

The reason for electronic versions of Scott Joplin rags was to cash in on the surprise success of the soundtrack to Paul Newman and Robert Redford's "The Sting." Hey, if Nonesuch could release a "serious" album of somebody playing ragtime pieces, claiming that Scott's stuff was just as intricate to play as Bach, then what the hell….

Take already corny and silly ragtime music…and add some wacky moog-doodling and gurgling to it…and what can you lose? Ask ABC's accountants. I don't think this thing sold a whole lotta copies (mine was a promo, as you see). Still, in small doses, it's definitely a fun novelty.

Selling to a college audience, the cover (with some guy holding a bottle of hooch and another hanging over a toilet) makes sure to imply that you can get wasted listening to the music. I can't say I played this one through over an entire side very often, but I did sneak the best track, "The Entertainer," onto the radio air waves once in a while. PS, nice of 'em to try and interest the college market by the allusion to "The Great Gatsby." Or were they afraid of a lawsuit if they linked this as some kind of switched-on "Sting" soundtrack??

ENTERTAINER: from Chris Stone

No egocentric passwords using the blogger's last name. No "tip jar" requests for the blogger's "hard work." No idiot capcha codes. No use of a "service" that wants you to pay to be a "premium" member for faster downloads.

Success came for those who melded electronic burps and zaps with rock and pop music. 1969-1970 were golden years for Moog albums, with "Moog" by Dick Hyman, "Moog Espana" from Sid Bass, "The Moog Strikes Bach" by Hans Wurman, "Well-Tempered Synthesizer"by Walter Carlos, "Moogie Woogie" by the Zeet Band, "Pop Electronique" by Cecil Leuter, and "Electronic Love" from The Electronic Concept Orchestra. Plus….Martin Denny's "Exotic Moog" Mort Garson's "Electronic Hair Pieces" Hugo Montenegro's "Moog Power" Marty Gold's "Moog Plays the Beatles" and Moog Machine's "Switched-on Rock." You can add George Harrison's "Electronic Sound" if you like. In 1971, Emerson, Lake and Palmer began annoying people with their overblown progrock crap (which didn't seem like overblown progrock crap at the time…ooh, what a lucky man owned their albums). And in 1972…the single 'Popcorn" was all over the airwaves, like butter up Maria Schneider's asshole. (Yes, "Last Tango in Paris" came out in 1972)

1972 was the year the most amusing of the electronic Erik Satie albums appeared. Satie was, like electronic music, a discovery of stoners. He was considered a very minor composer until the 70's, when a few classical pianists released albums of his work. That these became best-sellers was probably due to the college crowd adopting Satie as their favorite "serious" composer. The wonderfully eccentric Frenchman rivaled Frank Zappa for strangely named instrumental pieces, like "Flabby Preludes for a Dog." The same Music 101 kids who were calling Procol Harum and Jethro Tull "classic rock" (you'll remember the latter's "Passion Play" with an actual ballerina on the cover) loved having something cooler than Bach's "Air on a G String" or Pachelbel's "Canon." They found it especially in the soothing but strange "Gnossiennes." A gnossienne, if you care to look in the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, refers to "a moment of awareness that someone you've known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life…"

Yes, even as my record collection kept growing and growing, I made more room not only for progrock, of course, but for electronic music albums and Mr. Satie. I recall William Masselos getting there first, with a great album on RCA, and Aldo Ciccolini straining my wallet by issuing a series of Satie's works on Angel. And not too long after that, came the inevitable Satie electronic versions.

On Procol Harum's first label, Deram, "The Electronic Spirit of Erik Satie" was a sleek gatefold album credited to The Camarata Contemporary Chamber Orchestra. In the spirit of the idiot times, the album notes tried to be far out, man, even mystical, with a dash of R. Crumb humor: "The arranger felt the actual presence of Satie in the room with him while he was scoring. (Erik's spirit would hover around the room and, at times, reach over his shoulder and guide his pencil along the score page, shouting directions in his ear "B flat not B natural, you dummy!")….All the wave forms, modulation mixes, oscillations and permutations have never been duplicated since, and the Moog player, who was entirely unfamiliar with the instrument at the time, has no recollection of having done the album whatsoever!"

Your sample below offers five short pieces from "Sports and Amusements," a suite of silliness that includes, in order: La Balançoire (The Seesaw) La Chasse (The Hunt) , Comédie Italianne (The Italian Comedy), Le Réveil de la Mariée (The Arrival of the Bride) and Colin Maillard (Blindman's Bluff). The producers thoughtfully included both a French and an English announcer to introduce the title of each piece.

Lastly, the original album cover just had some colorful smears on the cover visualizing what electronic sound might look like…the exotic Erik has been Photoshopped in.

Five un-flabby electronic pieces from: ELECTRONIC SPIRIT OF SATIE

In 1953, Georgie Shaw and Tex Ritter both recorded "Let Me Go, Devil," written by country singer and songwriter Jenny Lou Carson. Jenny was the first woman to write a #1 country hit ("You Two-Timed Me One Time Too Often"). Her redundant tune about demon rum:

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"Let me go, let me go, let me go, devil. Stay away, stay away, stay away from my soul!
I got so low, got so low, yes so low, devil. I let you evil you get control!

...I lost my pride, lost my friends, it's the end, Devil. Let me go let me go, let me go!"
I'm gonna fight, gonna fight, with my might, Devil. Gotta win over sin if I can.
I've been a fool, yes a fool, just your tool, Devil. A disgrace to the race of man!

The song did well with the country market, in the Ritter version especially, but that was about it; neither version cross toward the middle of the road, though Georgie's doesn't seem far from it. Music producer Mitch Miller was aware of the song, though. In addition to producing records, he was working on the hour-long TV series "Studio One." For an episode about a disc jockey trying to help catch a killer, he needed an ironic song that could be played over and over. And, no, there was no line of dialogue about "Play "Misty" for me."

Hill? That was one, if not all of the song writing team of Fred Wise, Kay Twomey and Ben Weisman, who apparently chose Al Hill as a space-saving pseudonym when they doctored songs. Of the three, only Ben Weisman had a strong solo career, having a hand in over 50 songs recorded by Elvis Presley. Did it really take three people to switch around a country ballad about alcoholism into a universal song of love's anguish?

Let me go, let me go, let me go, lover. Let me be, set me free from your spell.
You make me weep, cut me deep, I can't sleep, lover. I was cursed from the first day I fell!
…Please turn me loose, what's the use, let me go, lover. Let me go, let me go, let me go!

Weber's version was the most dramatic, which reflected Mitch Miller's love of stark, lay-it-in-their-laps vocals (Frankie Laine and Johnnie Ray were also on Columbia). Over the years, most singers use Patti Page's take as the role model, singing without angst, but as a wistful, mild-mannered sweetheart. Patti used that style on her biggest hits…the one about the rather stoic girl who watches her boyfriend get stolen away ("Tennessee Waltz") or the girl who watches her lover marry somebody else ("I Went To Your Wedding.")

Joan Weber's follow-up was actually a demo that had been sent to Miller, "Marionette." More in keeping with the country flavor of "Let Me Go, Lover," Columbia released her take on the stark C&W tune "Gone," but nothing much happened. Some say the problem was motherhood. Joan was visibly pregnant when she made a few TV appearances promoting "Let Me Go Lover," and after the birth of her daughter, couldn't put her full attention on music. Some say her band-leader husband, out of protection or jealousy or control, took over as her manager (from veteran Eddie Joy). With limited connections, her new manager couldn't get Joan booked at top clubs that only dealt with big-time operators with a vast roster of talent. Others say that Weber was simply too young for stardom and became more mentally fragile as more demands were placed on her. It's not known when she turned up at the Ancora Psychiatric Hospital in New Jersey, but she died there in 1981, only 45 years old.

Georgie Shaw, Joan Weber, Tex Ritter, Hank Snow, Peggy Lee, Teresa Brewer, Homer & Jethro LET ME GO LOVER, WOMAN, BLUBBER, DEVIL….

The problem here is that most record collectors have no friends. That's the point of record collecting…to have a special room full of cool vinyl with maybe, some "action figures" on a whatnot shelf along with a real cool non-working Victrola on a pedestal. Or, hey, maybe a false-phallus…the kind of dildo and harness that Tipton, pianist-sans-penis, used on her women. Which, since a woman isn't around the average record collector, the record collector can use to go fuck himself.

So what was the deal on Billy Tipton? I actually did read the book about him/her, cleverly titled "Suits Me," all about how Dorothy Tipton used to find work as a pianist by dressing as a man…and because she also happened to be a lesbian, kept up the secret in private life. Tipton had a few obscure relatives who knew the secret, and since the musician was almost unknown outside of small clubs, and only recorded a few albums for budget labels, no reporters went prying into his pants. The biography about Tipton is fairly slim and hasn't much to say, since the pianist wasn't a swinger, didn't play lesbian clubs, wasn't crusading for transgender rights, didn't surgically change sex, and simply seemed to be nothing more than a somewhat androgynous-looking minor lounge act. And nobody was questioning major lounge acts like Wayne Newton, who in the 60's looked like a dyke.

A few of Tipton's wives talked to the author of the book…but what could they say? They claimed "Billy" never took a shower with them, undressed in the bathroom and made love in the dark. They said they had no idea about Billy's secret, but they might be lying, not wanting to be known as freaky old dykes. Whatever, Tipton had an uninteresting life playing boring clubs and playing fairly crappy familiar jazz tunes that were mostly middle-of-the-road with a dash of Dixieland. Even in retirement, and into the 80's (Tipton died January 21, 1989), "Billy" stayed in the closet. Let's remember that Hilary Swank's "Boys Don't Cry" didn't arrive for another decade. So who knows if Billy was afraid of embarrassment or getting beaten to death.

Only when Tipton died did the news come out that the local musician had led a secret life…and that the stiff in the morgue never had a stiff that couldn't be stored in a bedroom drawer.

Your download? A sample of Billy Tipton's music…which is professional, competent, and not very interesting. Sort of like Wayne Newton albums of nearly the same vintage. Say, Billy looks a bit like Wayne, doesn't he? Not that there's anything wrong with that…

SWEET GEORGIA BROWN Billy Tipton

And yeah, the ORIGINAL members should be inducted, because that's when they were famous. That's when they actually had hits. Those were the years when the band formed their identity. That Ace and Peter were easy to replace, and the replacements have been at it for some 15 years now…OK, very nice, stepping into the make-up the other guys wore. But KISS now is a nostalgia act, even with original lead singers Gene and Paul still fronting it.

Ace was the one who instantly alerted fans NOT to buy tickets to the Rock and Hall show (if they were expecting him and Peter). His reasoning was sound. Why the hell should he put on his famous make-up and be on stage…where some other guy is ALSO wearing the same make-up? That's like two prima donnas going to the Oscars and wearing the same dress. Peter Criss quickly fell in line behind Ace. What, he's gonna be in his cat make-up and sit behind drums, and right next to him, some pussy also has a drum kit and make-up??

Ace and Peter have been gone a long time…let's not forget that there was also Bruce Kulick (who was lead guitarist for about a decade) or the first drummer to replace Peter Criss: Eric Carr. Carr was also around for some ten years or more.

What could've been the solution? Perhaps…having each incarnation do one song. Which would be a revelation to non-KISS fans, who probably couldn't name, or sing along to ONE song, much less TWO. Surely, Ace is not so spaced out that he doesn't recognize the reality that he WAS replaced for some 25 years. (Just don't call him Surely). And if the other guys are fine with Peter's tell-all book, then prove it. There also seems to be some questions about "Hall of Fame" rules…which seem to suggest that only original members of a band can be inducted, although replacements can appear on stage…but I'm too bored to research that point. There's no question that Ace is the guy who initially said NO…which is why Ace is the guy you see in the illustration above.

Since this year's "Rock and Roll Hall of Fame" show promises to be as tepid, absurd and boring as most all of them, with poor choices of inclusion, pompous speeches and woefully fabricated "highlight" moments…perhaps this cornball show from nowhere-land (Cleveland) does need the huge build-up of the great KISS band arguing and bitching right up to…who knows, "this magic moment" when they do follow my advice, and each play a song?? I use the term "this magic moment" because, really, the whole thing is as pointless and nauseating as to mention that there was a "Jay" helming "The Americans" before and after Jay Black had his hits with them, and the group still does oldies show with yet another "Jay."

I know, you want my take on the KISS guys and what they were like in person. (Shut up, I know you do). No surprise, Gene and Paul were the most egomaniacal, with Gene at least showing more charisma. Like Howard Stern, he kept up a lively mix of opinionated bullshit, amusing stories, and a good dose of humor. Ace? About as down to Earth as a druggy spaceman could be. He also had a good sense of humor (to go with his admittedly peculiar and comical speaking voice…which I recall as sort of Jay Leno imitating Frank Fontaine's "Crazy Guggenheim" character). Peter was the "regular guy," very likable and easy to talk to. Though not a fan of their music, I liked those guys, and, if was being paid, wouldn't mind talking again to three of the four.

Since KISS is a famous band, there's no need to "introduce" them with a download. So…here's the Run-A-Rounds, an obscure bunch of garage shoegazers who recorded circa 1967 on the indie Manel label. The chosen song, quite relevant to Gene and Paul's views on Ace and Peter, is "I Can't Take You Back." But perhaps your view is closer to another Run-A-Rounds song called…"I Couldn't Care Less."

"There's so much to forget. There's so much on my mind…your request seems unreasonable, after you did me so much dirt…I can't take you back…I can't take you back…should have learned a lesson. Don't play friend against a friend…"

I CAN'T TAKE YOU BACK RUN-A-ROUNDS

Speaking of screwed up rhythms, the download below: "Sock it to Me Sunshine."

It's offered here as a sticky tribute to two of the worst things on the planet: "Daylight Savings" (which marks the end of freezing and the beginning of burning) and "Sunshine Pop," a brainless musical form from the late 60's. "Sunshine Pop" suggested you could get a natural high off rainbows, butterflies and paisley blouses. It was incense without the pot. It was maple syrup instead of Southern Comfort. It was psychedelic music dumped into the middle-of-the-road and run over by a kiddie calliope. You were expected to go out to a park or the beach with this melty ear wax trickling its treacle from your transistor radio, Soon you'd be overdosing on cans of sugary soft drinks, feeling "sun dazed," and staring at clouds (without getting to know them). You'd be "feeling groovy," and thinking about getting real trippy IF you knew the way to San Jose

Essentially lame, despite the "psychedelic" names, most of these sunshine stomach-acid bands dressed like preppies. The guys had on sweaters and white pants. The "chicks" maybe wore miniskirts and a sweater with some beads around their necks or a chain with a peace symbol. Some of these bands looked middle-aged…like The Fifth Dimension. Many seemed to get signed to record labels that were looking for something harmless "that the kids might like," to replace low-selling crap from Mitch Miller, The Four Lads or Acker Bilk.

"Sock it To Me Sunshine" by the Curtain Call, turned up on Dot in April of 1968. Dot...no, nobody figured they were named for a dot on a piece of paper that actually was LSD.

In 1968, Dot was a sad, out of touch record label; they were still releasing singles by Pat Boone, The Mills Brothers and Rosemary Clooney. Rosie was trying to remain current with stillborn ballads including "One Less Bell to Answer," and having less success with each attempt. The label still believed in instrumentals...Muzak versions of pop hits ("Mrs. Robinson" from Sound Symposium), Billy Vaughn (why, in 1968, release a cover of "St. James Infirmary") and Neil Hefti (the bouncy theme from "The Odd Couple" movie).

Not sure what the hell they were doing, they signed "hep" bands with funny names or wacky-named songs, and hoped for the best. How about "Dooley Vs the Ferris Wheel" from the Irish Republican Army? How about "Reptilian Mindblower" from Boots Brown and The Pfugelpipers? Surely somebody wants "Baja California" by the Chuck Barris Syndicate? The Dot Have-Nots tried cover versions of popular hits ("Leaving on a Jet Plane" by Dick St. John and "Alfie" from the Anita Kerr Singers). They even threw money at a few famous movie and TV personalities. Mia Farrow released "Lullaby from Rosemary's Baby" and Leonard Nimoy had "I'd Love Making Love to You."

"Laugh In" was a big TV hit, with its sunny, harmless brand of "counter-cultural" comedy, with flower-power ditz Goldie Hawn, lantern-jawed Ruth Buzzi as a spinster, and Arte Johnson doing a Nazi soldier apparently on leave from "Hogan's Heroes," with the cute catch-phrase, "Verrry interesting." Many of the "Laugh-In" bunch issued cash-in singles, and the sexual soul phrase "Sock It To Me" was now Judy Carne's comic signal for water dumped on her head…some kind of sitcom bukakke.

Also cashing in on "Laugh In" was "Sock It To Me Sunshine" (b/w "Say What You See") from The Curtain Call. Everything terrible about "sunshine pop" is in this song, thanks to its borrowings not only from "Laugh-In," but from the retro-crap "Winchester Cathedral" and the craze for anything from the 20's (movie theaters were pushing everything from "Bonnie and Clyde" to "Thoroughly Modern Millie"). It's got campy Chipmunks-meet-the-Andrews-Sisters vocals, baja marimba noodlings, whizzy wolf whistles, fruity brass and the rest of the pungent faux-vaudeville cheese. And like most things left out in the sun, in under two minutes, this overripe item starts to stink.

A word about "sunshine pop." The word is: shit. The vinyl for even the better examples of it (The Fifth Dimension's "Up Up and Away," or the tongue-in-chic Harper's Bizarre versions of Randy Newman songs) should be melted down for potato chip dishes. Any man who clasps his pudgy hands with delight at the sound of this drek probably has a hole in his head…self-lobotomized by a 45 rpm adapter spindle. PS, The Association's "Along Comes Mary," or The Mamas and the Papas'"California Dreaming" are too dark to be "sunshine pop."

The Curtain Call, getting some Top 100 action for "Sock it to Me Sunshine," stole another phrase off "Laugh In," and tried for a follow-up about "Beautiful Downtown Burbank." The flip was the odious "You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby." Another single, "Philadelphia Heartache" b/w "Country Living" launched and sank in 1969. No Curtain Calls.

Dot, incidentally, issued a full length album called "Uncle Bill Socks It To Ya," another cash-in on the "Laugh In" phrase. It also tried to exploit the retro-craze for zany 20's and 30's comedy film anarchists (in this case W.C. Fields). College campuses were rediscovering Fields, The Marx Brothers and Laurel & Hardy...with new books about the legends, and cash-ins a'plenty. "Uncle Bill" (a Fields look-alike named Burt Wilson) was backed on that album by (get ready) "The Peppermint Trolley Co" and he covered "Yummy Yummy Yummy."

Triviasts have noted that a few members of Bread (make that white bread…) and Pleasure Faire were involved in the production of some of The Curtain Call material. For that they don't deserve any curtain calls, just lots of ripe tomatoes.

"Daylight Savings" is an irritating ploy by Capitalist assholes to push people outside longer, to consume more hot dogs, spend more hours spending money at the mall, and wasting money on trips to Disneyland and other tourist traps. "Daylight Savings" means most any hour of the day you can get side-swiped by obnoxious bastards on inline skates and skateboards, tangled up in the leashes of senile morons walking their yappy dogs, or given an ear-ache from motorcyclists whizzing by or jackasses loitering loudly in front of your house consuming a lot of beer.

The idea is to enjoy the extra SUNSHINE. Which is fine if you're twelve, but a headache for almost everyone else. And, also fine if you're twelve, and a headache otherwise, is SUNSHINE POP, especially when it's poop like "Sock It To Me Sunshine."

After a long, brutally unpleasant winter where there was constant rain and flooding in England, and horrifying blizzards in America (in some places, you couldn't manage three days in a row without an interruption for snow), the reward is longer days, blinding sun and blistering heat. Soon humidity will be clinging to you like a snot-covered maggot. The air, as Spike Milligan once described it, so thick you can squeeze the sweat out of it. There's a good reason for the phrase "hell on Earth." And "Daylight Savings Time" is the beginning of it.

Sock It To Me Sunshine THE CURTAIN CALL

Seriously. You remember Ol' Blue Eyes. Asked for his opinion on rock and roll, he called it "The most brutal, ugly, desperate, vicious form of expression it has been my misfortune to hear."

I think his reasoning was that…rock doesn't "swing," and the lyrics don't usually include "dooby-dooby-doo." Or, yes, "Ding Ding Ding." But when rock and pop took over the Top 100 in the 60's, Frank began to pick out and customize cover versions. In THIS case, The Chairman of the Board simply erased some of Simon's lyrics and added new ones. Ay, ya think Frankie was gonna dis Joe DiMaggio? No no no! PS, there were too many lyrics in that wacky little Jew's original version, so Frank cut a full minute out. Ding Ding Ding!

So DIG the NEW lyrics, the kind that could make this tune worth singin' at Jilly's.

Frank sounds proud of himself, like he improved a tepid rock tune and made it...COOL! The guy still wished he was doing Cole Porter stuff, I'll bet. The guy who wrote "Strangers in the Night" recalled finally getting a chance to meet Ol' Blues Eyes. He introduced himself as the author of what was one of Frank's few Top 20 hits of the 60's...and Frank glared at him and walked away.

Despite this thuggish behavior (and my friend Bobby Cole told a few stories about just how much of a prick Frank could be), I got nothing against the father of Woody and Mia's child. The guy did have a way with a dark ballad (gotta love his miserable concept albums, such as "Where Are You?"). It's just…well, it's been many months since the last "ILL-USTRATED SONG" was posted here, and this one really needs no words of description. Just listen for yourself at how he's changed a rock tune into something…that really swings.

DING DING DING, MRS... ROBINSON!

No egocentric passwords using the blogger's last name. No "tip jar" requests for the blogger's "hard work." No idiot capcha codes. No use of a "service" that wants you to pay to be a "premium" member for faster downloads. No money being made here on somebody else's song….no money taken away from the artist, either.

Now, why would someone as famous as Tim Curry be here, on the blog of less renown? Because his solo career didn't get the attention it could have, and even a "Best of" CD on A&M was remaindered very quickly. Still known musically for "Rocky Horror," and as an actor, Tim's "straight" albums have been unjustly ignored. I can understand why; he disappointed gays and cultists expecting nothing but campy "Rocky Horror" stuff. His rock style was still too tongue-in-cheek and over-the-top for average rock fans who expected Alice Cooper (very masculine despite the name and make-up) or Mick Jagger (who was clearly hetero despite the"faggot dancing").

Case in point, "All I Really Want," Tim's cover of a classic Joni Mitchell song. With his bombastic trombone-raucous voice, he stomps all over what was originally a cutesy number strummed by an earnest folkie. He sings in italics at times, which makes it a bit campy, BUT…he doesn't stomp in high heels. He also made sure to change some female gender words to male gender in the song.

When I interviewed him, back when the album was new, I asked him if he was deliberately separating himself from his Sweet Transvestite character in "Rocky Horror." Yes, he admitted. He changed "Rip my stockings (in some jukebox dive)" to "bop till I drop"because he very much wanted to present himself as a straight-forward (accent I guess on straight) rocker.

He presented himself as very straight at the interview…not a hint of flamboyance, not even some kind of Mick Jagger or Warren Beatty apricot nylon scarf. He was dressed conservatively in black slacks and a white shirt, with a skinny tie hanging undone around an open collar. As for Bonnie Miss Mitchell (Bon Joni), Tim admitted, "I found a certain sense of self in her songs," and he had a good time changing the phrasing to satirize and reflect it: "All I really really want our love to do, is to bring out the best in ME. And in you, too." Even if the effect is a bit tart and Bette Midler-catty, he still resisted any hint of transgender. "I want to knit you a sweater" becomes "I want a hand up your sweater."

Unfortunately for Mr. Curry, the occasional wry cover version ("Harlem On My Mind" by Irving Berlin), or song reeking of flamboyant costume choices ("Birds of a Feather") went just a bit too far for some straights, which is quite ironic considering that Tim worked with Alice Cooper's producer Dick Wagner. To me, his songs weren't overly fruity, just playful in the same spirit as Jagger's "queer sounding" numbers such as "Miss You," or "When The Whip Comes Down."

All he really, really wanted to do…was to be a rock star…bringing out the best in himself…and entertaining you, too.

Tim Curry Live All I Really Want