In my opinion, the Beatles hit their peak with the 1966 album “Revolver” and “Tomorrow Never Knows” is the mind-bending track that concluded that masterpiece. I love the way the odd sound effects and distorted vocals blend so well together with a driving beat … in just under 3 minutes! “Tomorrow” was recently used to great effect at the end of a particularly good “Mad Men” episode (“Lady Lazarus”) from season 5.
“Revolver” was their last album that wasn’t a self-conscious mess. Yes, the Beatles had a lot of great songs after 1966, but in my opinion, the ratio of truly great to merely good or worse songs got wider and wider. That period between 1965 and 1966, when they released “Help!,” “Rubber Soul,” and “Revolver” was their best.
I still don’t know why people claim “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” (the first post-“Revolver” album) is the Beatles’ best album, let alone “the greatest of all time.” Yes, its mixing and production were revolutionary for its time. But the actual songs (except for “A Day in the Life” which is legitimately great) are mediocre at best. To call “Pepper” a masterpiece for its production value is like saying “Titanic” is a great film because it cost a lot of money and had cool CGI. The cheesiest psychedelia from that period (and that includes The Strawberry Alarm Clock and Iron Butterfly) is way cooler that “Pepper” could ever hope to be. But I digress…
One of the things that still makes independent record stores essential is the exposure to a lot of great music you’d never hear otherwise. Yes, there are plenty of internet radio stations playing terrific but obscure music, but when you have the physical ability to change the station, it does provide an “out” that you would otherwise not get when you’re listening to something and it’s awesomeness creeps up on you.
Case in point: Dinosaur Jr.’s J Mascis’s stoner metal project from the late 2000s: Witch. I first heard this at Boomerang Records in Lacey one afternoon and this cool mix of Black Sabbath and Hawkwind kicked my ass.
Great sludge/drone metal from the band Earth, fronted by one of Kurt Cobain’s best buds Dylan Carlson. This track was memorably used in the infamous Nick Broomfield documentary “Kurt and Courtney.” From the album “In the Pentastar of Demons.”
When I was 16 years old, I gave a cop the middle finger, told him to go “f–k” himself, and got away with it. That’s absolutely true. Pretty baddasssss, huh? Well … before I legally change my name to Eazy-D and get “Thug Life” tattooed on my stomach, I need to confess that what I said is only part of the story …
Cut to … Memorial Day, 1986 … My friends and I are at the beach walking around. Because there’s tons of people out that day walking around, naturally, people driving cars have to navigate around all the pedestrians. As my friends and I are crossing the street (I’m not clear whether I was legally crossing or not), a car going very fast declines to stop or slow down and almost hits all of us. For good measure, he honks very loudly. If you know anything about me, you’ll know I’m one of the most risk-averse people you’ll ever met. So what happened next surprises me even to this day. I was so mad at what this guy in the car did, I turned around quickly, shot my middle finger up, and yelled “F–k you!”
What I didn’t realize is that directly behind this car was a police car … and the police officer thought that my gestures were directed at him. Since I was still reeling from the car that almost hit me, I was stomping down the street in self-righteous (and idiotic … because I was probably jaywalking) anger, oblivious to the fact that a police officer was VERY upset with me. I then heard some screeching tires and and a very angry, authoritative voice yell “HEY YOU! GET BACK HERE!” At that point, I think one of my friends pointed out that it was the police. To this day, I don’t know why I did this, but I … just … kept … walking … at the same speed and determination I had before. Don’t get me wrong. I was completely petrified at that stage. It seems utterly ridiculous, but in my head, I thought, “If you believe that it didn’t happen, then it didn’t happen, so if you keep walking like it didn’t happen, then it didn’t happen” And then … for whatever reason … the cop drove off.
To be fair, I don’t think I have Jedi mind trick powers. Likely, the cop probably thought it was too much trouble to go after me or he saw someone else doing something way worse and drove off. If you’re reading this, do not try this when a police officer tells you to “GET BACK HERE!” Doing what I did will likely not only get you arrested, but probably get you invited to a party where you’ll accidentally fall on some billy clubs.
Anyway, afterwards, I was pretty shaken up by what happened, but my friends whooped and hollered like I was some cross between Burt Reynolds from “Smokey and the Bandit,” Johnny Rotten, and Tupac. In fact, for the next few years, any time we were at a gathering where girls were present, my friends would tell everyone that I flipped off a cop. Of course, because I had no idea when it’s smart to keep your mouth shut, I would always interject, “Well, that’s not the entire story …” and then completely blow whatever cool my friends had bought me.
Cut to 2013… My wife and I will occasionally go to gatherings where we’ll meet people and she’ll tell them we lived in New York for 9 years. As people start to look at me like I’m Lou Reed, I then explain, “Well, it was actually upstate …” and then they look at me like I’m from Boise and my wife shakes her head.
You know what? Forget everything after the first two sentences. Straight outta CP, crazy motherf–ker named Strange Dave, from a band called … uh, crap, I give up.
Another gem from the immensely awesome side 2 of “Exile on Main Street,” “Torn and Frayed” adds a gospel feel to the f–ked up druggy vibe of “Exile.” One of my favorite recent live musical moments was a random gentleman at a local bookstore during the last year that just started playing this flawlessly on the bookstore’s piano when I was killing time one night.
From side 2 of “Exile on Main Street” (one of the greatest side 2s in rock history) is “Torn and Frayed,” a song that uses the metaphor of a battered coat for the drug-addled and battered psyches of the Stones, circa 1972. Damn, I love that muddy / cruddy mix with the guitar and organ.
A rare Keith Richards vocal … this was written by Richards when he was facing possible jail time in Canada for heroin possession, circa 1978. From the “Some Girls” album, arguably the last truly great Stones album.
Key lyrics: “Watched the taillights fading, there ain’t a dry eye in the house … They’re laughing and singing … Started dancing and drinking as I left town … Gonna find my way to heaven, `cause I did my time in hell … I wasn’t looking too good but I was feeling real well.”
If you came of age in the 1980s, “I Melt With You” likely brings back a lot of special memories: the romantic montage with Nicolas Cage and Deborah Foreman from “Valley Girl,” that high school or college mixer you attended, maybe even that retro 80s party you went to. I, too, have a special memory of this song. Though, admittedly, it’s a little … different.
Let’s go back to my college days. I’m taking Italian and I develop a mad crush on one of my classmates, flirting with her all semester. And when I say flirting, I mean staring at her until she looks in my direction and I then quickly avert my eyes back to my book. Real sophisticated … I know.
Anyway, one night, some friends and I go to someone’s keg party and lo and behold, I see the cute girl from my class. She doesn’t appear to be with any guy and when she sees me, she smiles like she recognizes me. I’m now perplexed on how to proceed. Should I hang back with my friends and work my way over? Or should I just walk up to her and start talking? At that moment, “I Melt With You” comes on the stereo and suddenly, I get inspired. I don’t know whether it’s this wonderful song that’s igniting the fire in my heart … or maybe it’s just the shot of 151 rum I downed earlier with my friends … but I know exactly what I need to do. That’s right … a beer bong. Now, you’re probably asking why I thought a beer bong would impress a beautiful young woman. And my answer would be: because guys in their early 20s are idiots.
Anyway, I throw my hand up and someone gets the beer bong ready. I put my thumb in the bottom of the tube, the beer goes into the funnel, and I start to down the beer. Except that things don’t go exactly as planned. I’m not quite sure what happened over the next four seconds because frankly I couldn’t see anything. However, I did hear about 20 people alternately gasp and laugh hysterically.
Instead of the beer going into my stomach and staying there, the beer went back up my esophagus, through the back of my mouth, through my nose … and all over the lovely gal from my Italian class. To say this poor girl was drenched in beer, stomach bile, and nasal bile was an understatement. It was a mortifying moment for both of us. However, to her immense credit, she was actually very cool about it and accepted my multiple apologies graciously.
Now, after a story like this, I’m sure you’re expecting a cute punch line like we eventually dated and got married, or even that we made out later that night. Let’s just say that I left the party the same way I came in … single and (not particularly) sexy.
I’m not quite sure whatever happened to the cute … and way cooler than she needed to be … lass from my Italian class. However, if she’s reading this now, please accept my apologies again. My offer for a new sweater still stands.
From “Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip,” RIchard Pryor soberly reflects on how he never wants to use the “N” word again after visiting Africa. Extremely moving.
Good evening peepers, prowlers, pederasts, panty-sniffers, punks and pimps. I’m James Ellroy, the demon dog, the foul owl with the death growl, the white knight of the far right, and the slick trick with the donkey d–k. I’m the author of 16 books, masterpieces all; they precede all my future masterpieces. These books will leave you reamed, steamed and drycleaned, tie-dyed, swept to the side, true-blued, tattooed and bah fongooed. These are books for the whole f–kin’ family, if the name of your family is the Manson Family.
Do I have your undivided attention, now? Good, now check out acclaimed crime author James Ellroy’s (author of “L.A. Confidential,” “American Tabloid,” and “The Black Dahlia” among other classics) wonderfully sleazy TV series “Hollywood Confidential” which exposes the fetid, rancid, rusted underbelly of Tinsel Town.
Dave's Strange World 