Marianne Faithfull’s splendid cover of Dylan’s classic song … from a 1971 album called “Rich Kid Blues” that was not released until 1984. Faithfull is easily in my top 5 favorite singers of all-time.
Oh my freaking God!!!!! An early version of the classic Rolling Stones song “Loving Cup” … from 1969. This is allegedly from tapes from Mick Taylor’s first session from the band. While I prefer the final version that appeared on “Exile on Main Street” in 1972, this much bluesier version is still pretty jaw-dropping. Seriously, there was no better band in rock history than the Rolling Stones from 1966 through 1972.
Ever since I introduced the late 1990s TV show “Freaks & Geeks” to my son a few weeks ago, he has binge-watched the entire one-season show (18 hours) at least 5-6 times on Netflix. It’s been nice reconnecting with the best show ever to be broadcast on TV about teenagers, if not one of the best series in TV history.
This particular scene is one of my favorites. It’s one where the geekiest of the geeks, latchkey child Bill Haverchuck, comes home after school to watch TV by himself. He catches an early TV appearance by comedian Garry Shandling and experiences a moment of unbridled joy laughing at Shandling and just hanging by himself. I know that many people paint the life of a latchkey kid as unbearably tragic. But speaking as a latchkey kid myself, sorry Dr. Laura, I had a f–king blast! And no, it’s not because I used the alone time to drink alcohol, do drugs, use my bedroom as a f–kpad, or look at porn. I realize this is anathema to common ideas of parenting these days, but sometimes kids just need one-two hours a day to do absolutely nothing but veg. Yes, socializing, exercising, doing school activities, etc. are important, but vegging is seriously underrated and kids these days don’t do enough of it.
Anyway, I love the way that The Who’s “I’m One” … one of the best, but least-heralded tracks from their great album “Quadrophenia” is used in this scene. One of the best uses of popular music for dramatic purposes ever.
First of all, you need to understand how much I loathe “Come Sail Away” by Styx. If it were a federal hate crime to discriminate against a song, I’d be doing hard time in federal prison for committing crimes against this one.
But … this song works soooooo damn well in this wonderful scene from the first episode of “Freaks and Geeks,” the greatest show in television history about teenagers … and if truth be told … kicks the a– of any of the “best” feature films ever made about teenagers.
This is a scene from the Homecoming dance, where freshman Sam Weir shows up at the dance because his crush, cheerleader Cindy Sanders, promised him a dance. She fulfills her promise and the dance between these two always lifts my mood. Some moments are so incredibly sweet that if you dislike them, there is something seriously wrong with you. As awkward as Sam is here, he has bigger balls than I did at the age of 14.
From the recent Can anthology “The Lost Tapes,” here’s a gem from the late 1960s that would not have been out of place on the classic “Monster Movie” album. As with all Can songs, I have no idea what meaning the lyrics have, but the punk/jazz/psychedelic groove wins out.
The Vaselines’ most famous song, mainly thanks to Nirvana’s memorable cover on their MTV Uplugged Live performance in 1993. Released in 1988 on the EP “Dying for It,” the song is a bitter answer to the traditional children’s hymn “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam,” on par with XTC’s “Dear God” and Patti Smith’s psycho-sexual “Gloria” in terms of its anti-religious sentiment. However, “Sunbeam” may be more powerful because the music is so deceptively mellow, the lyrics hit like a fist. You can now find it on the excellent Sup Pop released compilation “The Way of the Vaselines.”
Oddly, the song is called “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam” on all the Vaselines’ recordings even though the lyrics say “Jesus Don’t Want Me for a Sunbeam.” Nirvana’s cover is titled the same way as the lyrics.
I’ve included Nirvana’s version below:
Trivia note: Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love named their daughter Frances after the Vaselines’ Frances McKee.
This was the first film featuring Thomas Harris’s Hannibal Lecter character, approximately five years before Jonathan Demme’s adaptation of “Silence of the Lambs” in 1991. Based on Harris’s novel “Red Dragon”, director Michael Mann directed this extremely suspenseful, intense, and atmospheric tale of a troubled FBI agent called back into duty to find a serial killer the top FBI officials can not find. William Peterson does a masterful job playing the troubled FBI agent, Will Graham, a man physically and mentally scarred from an earlier assignment where he captured the infamous Lecter. It was a job where he had to think like Lecter in order to capture him … and this process landed him in a mental hospital.
While there was a decent, but ultimately unnecessary big-budget remake of “Red Dragon” in remake made in 2002 with Ed Norton as Graham and … that’s right … Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter … Michael Mann’s 1986 version is so much better. As iconic as Hopkins’ characterization is, Brian Cox may actually be a scarier Lecter, based on how low-key he plays the infamous mad man. Watch this incredibly intense scene where Lecter meets with Graham where Lecter tries to dominate Graham and oh-so-casually asks Graham for his home phone number.
The attached scene is the climax of the film with major spoilers, but it has one of the best uses of rock music and film ever committed to celluloid … Iron Butterfly’s “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” used to absolute sinister perfection.
“Manhunter” … along with David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet” … were the jewels in the ill-fated DeLaurentiis Entertainment Group studio’s late 1980s forays into filmmaking. An ironic jewel, because “Manhunter” was not successful … but Hannibal Lecter was a movie star in the making … and Dino DeLaurentiis got his money back in spades with the 2001 film “Hannibal” as well as the 2002 remake “Red Dragon.”
If you have any love for this film at all … or are just fans of the Hannibal Lecter films … please check out the Projection Booth’s recent podcast on this film:
http://projection-booth.blogspot.com/2014/06/episode-170-manhunter.html
Trivia note: David Lynch was the original director attached to this film. As much as I love what Michael Mann did here, my mind is blown over the prospect over what Lynch would have done with this material.
Disclosure: I’m only moderately interested in baseball. As far as the Boston Red Sox are concerned, I have no opinion about them, positive or negative. But “Tessie” by the Dropkick Murphys is, hands down, my favorite sports anthem of all-time. It sounds like a drunken collision between the Pogues, Mott the Hoople, and Social Distortion … a collision that also describes what the Dropkick Murphys sound like. That’s a huge compliment, by the way.
In any case, this song has a wonderful history. “Tessie” was originally written for a turn of the 20th century Broadway musical called “The Silver Slipper,” where it was called “Tessie (You are the Only, Only, Only).” The song was adopted by a fervent group of Red Sox fans called the Royal Rooters and sung at Red Sox games until around 1918, when the Rooters stopped singing it. Coincidentally, 1918 was the last year the Red Sox won the World Series for several years.
Cut to 2004 … Boston punk legends the Dropkick Murphys recorded a cover of “Tessie,” explaining that they recorded it to “bring back the spirit of the Rooters and to put the Red Sox back on top.” I’m not saying that the Murphys were responsible for helping the Red Sox break the “curse of the Bambino,” but that year, the Red Sox finally did win the World Series for the first time since 1918. Now the Murphys’ “Tessie” is second only to the Standells’ “Dirty Water” as the song played after every Red Sox victory. (I’d rather not mention the third song).
If you’re a Red Sox hater, there is probably nothing I can do to convince you this is a great song. But I love it and “Tessie” is justifiably a classic.
One of the more pleasant highlights from the excellent, but brutal and upsetting 2006 Idi Amin docudrama “The Last King of Scotland” was this unique and beautiful cover of Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” sung by Ugandan singer Angela Kalule. This is tied with Janis Joplin’s famous cover in my book. Oh, and do yourself a favor and pick up the soundtrack. It’s a stellar mix of African pop and rock from the 1960s / 1970s.
If you’re younger than me (I’m in my mid-40s), you probably have no idea who Paul Williams is. But if you’re my age or older, you will probably remember Williams in one way or another. He was a prolific songwriter who wrote such standards as “Rainy Days and Mondays,” “We’ve Only Just Begun,” “Evergreen,” and “The Rainbow Connection.” And Williams probably appeared on every TV show in the 1970s, from “The Tonight Show” to “The Muppet Show” to “The Gong Show” … and every damn 1970s TV show in between. He was also Little Enos in the “Smokey and the Bandit” films. However, as the 1970s faded, so did Williams’ career. He became a major alcohol and drug addict but eventually got sober and became an addiction counselor.
Filmmaker Stephen Kessler, a fan of Williams and the director of “Paul Williams Still Alive,” assumed he was dead. But when he found out Williams was alive, Kessler was determined to make a documentary about him. The funny thing is that Williams … despite a seeming tendency to never say “No” to any personal appearance in the 1970s … is extremely reluctant. “Paul Williams Still Alive” shows the struggles Kessler had in gaining Williams’ trust and participation in a documentary about his life. Eventually, Williams acquiesced, but only so much. It’s clear that Williams is not proud of a lot of his behavior in the past and not just the drug abuse. Williams also seems ashamed of his incessant need to be in the spotlight during the height of his fame, hence his reluctance to participate in the documentary. But as Kessler learns, Williams is not someone who keeps looking back, he keeps looking forward. And Williams seems a lot happier living a more modest lifestyle.
Despite what you may or may not think about Williams as a musician and composer (he’s never been a critics’ favorite), the man is a legend and this movie is a fine document about his life then and now. It’s also a fascinating look at the process of documentary filmmaking and the ups and downs of befriending your idols. At times, it seems like a real-life Albert Brooks film, only much more compassionate. Very highly recommended.
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