“Rock Lobster” – The B52s


In “Citizen Kane,” there’s a brief and pivotal scene where Bernstein, one of Charles Foster Kane’s oldest associates, is talking to the reporter trying to uncover the meaning of Kane’s last word “Rosebud.” As Bernstein puts it, “A fellow will remember a lot of things you wouldn’t think he’d remember. You take me. One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in, and on it there was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on. She was carrying a white parasol. I only saw her for one second. She didn’t see me at all, but I’ll bet a month hasn’t gone by since that I haven’t thought of that girl.”

I don’t have anything quite that poetic, but a friend recently Facebooked about being stuck on a train and it reminded me of taking the train to visit my Dad back when I was a teenager. On one particular trip when I was 15, I was sitting next to a cute girl my own age and we seemed to hit it off (though at the time, I didn’t realize it). She was not only cute, but also hip (she liked the B52s … this was before their huge commercial breakthrough in 1989 with “Cosmic Thing”). Anyway, when the drink cart came by, I threw all caution to the wind and ordered a beer. Being 6’2″ at 15 years old, they either thought I was of drinking age (21 at the time), or didn’t care, so they took my money and served me my Molson (it was Canadian, so I felt especially debonair … it wasn’t until years later when I moved closed to the Canadian border that Molson is like Busch in Canada). Anyway, the girl sitting next to me was VERY impressed with my drink ordering skills, laughed at all my jokes, and we had a great conversation all the way back home in the train car. Natch, she even lived in my hometown. Did I even think of asking for her phone number? Of course not. This was one of the few suave (OK, suave for a 15-year old) James Bond moments of my life and … I didn’t even think to go for it.  The PMRC should have gone after the Smiths back in the day.  They’ve arguably ruined more lives than Ozzy ever did.

Anyway, wherever she may be and whatever her name is, this is for “train girl.”

“Whip” – Fred Schneider


Here is one of the coolest collaborations of the 1990s: the B-52s’ Fred Schneider mixing it up with noise-rock pioneer Steve Albini as producer. On the surface, this sounds like a recipe for disaster, but Fred proves he could have a great hardcore punk singer, more than holding his own against the slamming wind tunnel of sound behind him. From the album “Just Fred.”

“Saturday Night Live 1980” – Nathan Rabin’s “How Bad Can it Be? Case File #23”


Bad comedy has always intrigued me, which is why I found this article about SNL’s infamous 1980-81 season so fascinating.  Part of Nathan Rabin’s endlessly terrific “My World of Flops” series, Rabin analyzes the SNL season most people believe was the series’ worst.   This was the season produced by Jean Doumanian, right after Lorne Michaels (and the rest of the original cast) left, and she had to start over with a new cast and new writers.  After reading the detailed account of this season’s failure in Doug Hill’s and Jeff Weingrad’s 1985 book “Saturday Night: A Backstage History of Saturday Night Live” many years ago, I had been trying to see these episodes for a long time.  Some of the episodes appeared on Comedy Central when repeats of the show were run, but many of them were severely edited.  It wasn’t until some DVD-Rs of this season mysteriously fell off a truck in a town I don’t remember that I finally got a chance to watch the season.

Yes, this season is pretty bad.  However, when you look at the show over its nearly 40-year history, there are other seasons that are arguably as bad.  What’s easier to see now (as opposed to back in 1980) is that the show goes through severe ups and downs, the downs usually being the years when the show has to start over with a new cast and writers.  It’s not that the performers/writers are bad during the down seasons, it just takes time for a new talent pool to gel, but watching that process can be incredibly painful (and interesting).  The 1980-81 season was one of those seasons, and Doumanian had an incredibly thankless job.  Because no one had ever seen this process before and because the first 5 seasons were so beloved, anything less than being better than the first 5 seasons would have been seen as a failure.

Despite these qualifications, the season is pretty terrible, though the obvious highlight is watching the introduction of Eddie Murphy.  Watching Murphy and how fresh and funny he was back in the day, it’s astonishing to think where his career has ended up over 30 years later.  Don’t get me wrong, the man still has enormous talent (“Dreamgirls”), but when you see the hacky comedies he’s become affiliated with in recent years (“Pluto Nash,” “Daddy Day Care”), it’s a sad reminder of how far he’s sunk.

The other fascinating person to watch that season is Charles Rocket.  Billed as a cross between Bill Murray and Chevy Chase and groomed to be the season’s breakout star by producer Doumanian, Rocket is a better talent than historians of the show would lead you to believe.  However, the pressure cooker environment of the show, coupled with the sky-high expectations put on his shoulders by Doumanian, likely contributed to him being immensely difficult to work with, as Hill and Weingrad allege in their book.  After being fired soon after dropping the “f-bomb” on live television, Rocket periodically popped up in character roles in movies and TV, usually very good and playing the kind of caddish roles that Wil Arnett specialized in before starring in “Up All Night” (ironically, produced by Lorne Michaels).   His 2005 suicide by slitting his own throat was especially sad, considering that before SNL, Rocket was considered an important figure in the Providence, Rhode Island arts scene during the early-mid 1970s, a scene that also produced Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers and the Talking Heads.  (Rocket played accordion on the David Byrne-produced B-52s album “Whammy”).  Below is a link to an article from the Providence Phoenix that discusses this part of Rocket’s career.


Doumanian later went on to become producer of then-best friend Woody Allen’s films during the 1990s and early 2000s, until an infamous falling out occurred, detailed in the Vanity Fair article listed below: