Tag: oliver

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Firesign Theatre, First Family 466, 465, 464

ALBUMS:  Firesign Theater: ‘Don’t Crush that Dwarf, Hand me the Pliers” (1970);  Eat Or Be Eaten (1985);  and, The First Family Vaughn Meader. (1962)

This is comedy which is hard to keep fresh once infused in beloved vinyl.

Firesign Theatre was a brilliant  comedy troupe from another time. America’s Monty Python, sort of.

They did live shows, radio and lots of records.

The two FT albums I have are considered among their best, ‘Dwarf’ is often cited as groundbreaking in 1970 when it came out. In 2005, Dwarf was added to the National Recording Registry, a list of sound recordings that “are culturally, historically, or aesthetically important, and/or inform or reflect life in the U.S.’ Dwarf was also called by Rolling Stone Record guide as the best comedy album of all time.

I’m throwing in  a non-Firesign record,  Vaughn Meader’s First Family, a successful parody of the JFK White House.  It is definitely dated coming from 1962.  But you wouldn’t believe how popular this was  at one time.

Dwarf and Eaten use similar techniques even though 15  years separates them. Firesign use what I’ll call the ‘drop-in’ method of listener interaction. The listener is dropped in to the middle of something, anything,. It could be a fake advertisement, or the middle of a dialogue between friends.

But while it sounds random,  there’s a narrative thread running through, at least In Dwarf.  It’s a story about George Tirebiter,  a former child actor who lays around and watches late night TV. The narrative frequently is interrupted when Tirebiter changes channels.

Lots of a great work on the recording using voices on radios, TV, or telephones, ambient sounds galore and that effect where it sounds like someone is in another room. And walks by  in stereo.

WIth Firesign, the aural presentation is an art; the records demand audience attention to stay on their toes as funny bits just  parachute in without warning.

As I said earlier, humor on vinyl is a difficult medium to stand the test of time.  I’m guessing there’s not a lot of market out there for old comedy albums, unless deemed a classic.

But in some way I guess you could say  that about music.  There are timeless songs but there are also a  lot of songs that don’t date well:  I don’t think we’ll have to wait until 2525 to see if Zager & Evans had a point. And that was their best song!

One piece on the’ Eat or be Eaten’ album is an advertisement to see Bob Dylan live at the Met where he’ll be singing opera in Bavarian and German languages.

“It’s just like the 60s,’ the advertisement spokesman says. “No one can understand a word he’s saying. And that’s when Dylan’s at his best.”

Vaughn Meader’s White House with JFK was apparently  all the rage back in the early 1960s. It’s amusing in spots such as when all the world leaders gather together and give their sandwich orders.

But there’s a lot of jokes and laughing about stuff that in 2018 sounds sounds like an inside joke.

According to the Wikipedia page, the album,  issued by Cadence was honored as “the largest and fast selling record in the history of the record industry’ selling at  more than a million copies per week for the first six  weeks.

Can that be true?

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See the 10 questions used to diagnose Lewy body dementia

This is part of an occasional series of stories on Lewy body dementia, other dementias, and end of life issues, by a long-time writer who happens to  have LBD.

The chart is a 10-question check-up list to help doctors use symptoms and circumstances to more accurately diagnose the disease.. There is no known cause and no cure for this disease which shortens lifespans.

Here it is.

The Lewy Body Composite Risk Score

Rate the following symptoms as being present or absent for at least three times over the past six months. Does the patient: Yes No
1) Have slowness in initiating and maintaining movement or have frequent hesitations or pauses during movement?
2) Have rigidity (with or without cogwheeling) on passive range of motion in any of the four extremities?
3) Have a loss of postural stability with or without frequent falls?
4) Have a tremor at rest in any of the four extremities or head?
(5) Have excessive daytime sleepiness and/or seem drowsy and lethargic when awake?
6) Have episodes of illogical thinking or incoherent, random thoughts?
7) Have frequent staring spells or periods of blank looks?
8)Appear to act out his/her dreams (kick, punch, thrash, shout or scream) while still asleep?

9) Visual hallucinations (see things not really there)?

(10) Have orthostatic hypotension or other signs of autonomic insufficiency

 

© Copyright 2013 The Lewy Body Composite Risk Score James E. Galvin and New York University Langone Medical Center

NOTE from LBDA: Scores were significantly different in DLB patients compared to controls and those with Alzheimer’s. The Composite Risk Score discriminated between individuals likely to have underlying Lewy body disease from those who did not. Using a cut-off of 3, the Lewy Body Composite Risk Score had a sensitivity of 90%, meaning it identified 90% of those diagnosed with Lewy body dementia.

Follow Mike Oliver on AL.com and www.myvinylcountdown.com

See also: It’s not like we are forgetting Alzheimer Disease

 

 

 

 

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Ellen Foley — 474

 

ALBUM: The Spirit of St. Louis (1981)

Talk about an eclectic resume.

Foley went from Night Court to the Clash to Meatloaf.

She was an actor on the  popular American comedy show Night Court and has done other TV and Broadway.. She later became an item with Clash band member Mick Jones and provided vocal back-up on the album Sandinista (Hitsville UK was one)>

Jones wrote ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go.’ about  Ellen.

She put out a couple of her own albums including this one I have on vinyl. It’s an oddball assortment of pleasant sounding songs  with avant garde touches such as those in the Salvador Dali song. All Clash band members play on this but are so unobtrusive you can’t barely  tell. (Maybe they should have intruded more).

Far and away the best song on this albums is ‘The Shuttered Palace.’   which  opens the album flush with innuendo.

To the sons of Europe: won’t you come inside
My shuttered palace and I am the bride
Now I’m a woman, I walk past your café
To the sons of Europe, I call out and say

<Check video below.>

‘Torchlight’ backed  by the Clash was also good.

She later became known for  her duet (with the innuendo stripped off) on Meatloaf’s “Paradise By The Dashboard Light.’

If you can find this one in  a  used or bargain bin setting it’s worth at least $5.

 

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Violence against journalists is no joke

The other day I wrote about how the intersection of violence and journalism is not new.

I wrote the AL.com post not as a request for some pat-on-the- back or attaboy because our profession faces danger at times. As one of the commenters on my column wrote, we knew we what we were signing up for.

Well, that’s true to a degree. At 22, graduating Auburn University in 1982, I probably had no idea I’d be called into an active prison riot a few years later.

But that’s another story.

For this column, I wrote about some specific cases, that I had personal experience with to vividly show that violence against journalists, or anybody,  is not a  joke, Milo. This shit is real.

For the opinion column, I got some reaction from fellow Chauncey Baily Project cohorts Josh Richman and Tom Peele to talk about that project which investigated the shotgun shooting death of a journalist in Oakland, Calif.

Today,  I got an email from Peele sending me a link to his story.

Here’s the top of Peele’s opinion column including the headline on the East Bay Times.:

Peele: Oakland knows too well the story of a murdered journalist

This latest slaughter must be a touchstone from which respect for journalism returns as a civic value

By  | tpeele@bayareanewsgroup.com | Bay Area News Group
PUBLISHED:  | UPDATED: 

The press is the “enemy of the American people.” — President Donald Trump.

“I can’t wait for vigilante squads to start gunning down journalists” — Milo Yiannopoulos, provocateur.

 

Oaklanders know the story too damn well. Someone with a shotgun out to kill a reporter.

The 2007 killing of Oakland Post editor Chauncey Bailey on a city sidewalk was the last slaying of a domestic American journalist over a story.

Until Thursday.

The only thing surprising about the newsroom killings of five Annapolis Capital-Gazette employees is that it didn’t happen sooner. Jarrod Ramos, the alleged shooter, had a longstanding complaint with the paper over a story about his conviction for harassing a woman.

Ramos’ animosity ran on for years through two failed lawsuits in which he represented himself. Then, Thursday, he blasted his way into the paper with a shotgun and killed four journalists and a sales representative.

It came days after Yiannopoulos called for death squads for journalists. He says he was kidding and wrote those words only in a private text. But then he posted them on Instagram.

 

For the rest of Peele’s column go here.

In my column I also had written about a woman who jumped off the Oakland Tribune building.

Here’s the top of that story.

By  |
PUBLISHED:  | UPDATED: 

A woman jumped off our building Friday.

It was a minor news story, this tragedy at the doorstep of the Oakland Tribune.

But it was a gut check for news people who every day write about and present such tragedies. These stories dot our paper, usually summed up in a few brief paragraphs, daily doses of dead bodies — shootings, stabbings, fatal car wrecks and, occasionally (though not often), a public suicide like this one.

But this one was different — it came to us. On a Friday afternoon, the suicide of Mary Jesus jerked us into real life in real time.

That was her name, oddly, Mary Jesus. And, ironically, she was upset about a possible eviction and being homeless for the holidays.

At 1:50 p.m., feet dangling off the ledge, she slid off the seventh-floor roof holding her nose with thumb and forefinger — as if she were taking a plunge into the water. She hit a light pole on the way down, twisted and slammed face-first into the concrete sidewalk near the building’s front door.

Six floors up, through open windows, reporters and editors in the newsroom heard the eerie, collective gasp from the crowd of onlookers. It was an unearthly, anguished sound of more than 100 people simultaneously drawing air. And then, there was the sickening thud.

For the rest of the story go here. 

 

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John Fahey — 495, 494

  ALBUMS: Volume 1 Blind Joe Death; Guitar Vol. 4;

MVC Rating: Blind 4.5/$$$$; Guitar 4.0/ $$$$

John Fahey’s music is hard to categorize. And he may have been the most influential guitarist you’ve never heard of.

Not a shredder, but a plucker.

He said he considered himself a classical guitarist.  But the category he was usually placed under was ‘primitive guitar, blues, folk.’ It was mostly like nothing you’ve ever heard. Light finger-picking guitar delivered  pieces that lulled you into the deeper recesses of the song. Hypnotized without consent.

You listen and think, I could do that. Then he does something so quick and unexpected that you have to stop and reshape or get lost in it.

By Ellis408 at English Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31511739

To continue my metaphorical ways, the music was like a lazy river, no whitewater. Rolling, rolling through small eddys. Lay a  soft whispery vocal on some of these songs and it would sound like Nick Drake.

There are versions of Blind Joe Death that are rare and expensive. When I found Blind Joe Death in used record store in Leesburg, FL, I thought I had hit the jackpot. I had just read an article about Fahey and how he released only 100 copies of Blind Joe Death. But alas, it was not the valuable one. Although this version is being shopped around out there in the $30-40 range.

From a well-sourced Wikipedia page we learn that he bought his first guitar for $17 from Sears, Roebuck. (Hey didn’t Tom Petty buy his from Sears as well?) And Duke Ellington and Louis Armstrong have a record together on the Sears label.

Sears slogan: Where your past is about all we have left.

From WIki:

Fahey discovered his love of early blues upon hearing Blind Willie Johnson‘s “Praise God I’m Satisfied” on a record-collecting trip to Baltimore with his friend and mentor, the musicologist Richard K. Spottswood. Much later, Fahey compared the experience to a religious conversion and remained a devout blues disciple until his death. {FROM MIKE: I like that he took record-collecting trips.}

As his guitar playing and composing progressed, Fahey developed a style that blended the picking patterns he discovered on old blues 78s with the dissonance of contemporary classical composers he loved, such as Charles Ives and Béla Bartók. 

Rolling Stone put Fahey at 35th in their Top 100 Guitarists of all time.

Some traditional songs on the two albums I have include ‘Will the Circle Be Unbroken,’ Oh Come, Oh Come Emanuel,’ “Uncloudy Day,’ and ‘St. Louis Blues.’

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Duane Eddy — 502

ALBUM:  Twangin’ the Golden Hits (1964)

MVC Rating: 3.5/$$$

Twang.

Twang. Twang. Twang. What’s that called when the word sounds like the sound it is a word for? Let me run to Google.

Shite, I already had this in my head as the answer but I looked it up anyway. I hate when  I do that. Of course it’s onomatopoeia. Meow.

Duane Eddy it seems couldn’t shake that twang thang.

The twang sound was a technique of playing lead on his guitar’s bass strings to produce a low, reverberant ” sound. according to  his Wikipedia page.

Dang. I wrote earlier that John Anderson had a twangy voice, broadening the boundaries of the word’s descriptive power. Over three decades or four, Eddy put out 33 albums, a number of which were recycled greatest type packages.

But of those 33, nearly half — 14 — had Twang or some version (Twangin’, Twangy) in the title.  So he was all about the Twangin,’ and I’ll proffer here the guy could twang.

This ‘greatest hits’ album I have is frustrating, however. It doesn’t have the ‘Peter Gunn’ soundtrack, a Henry Mancini piece that was the theme song for the self-entitled television show.

‘Rebel Rouser’ is good, maybe not rousing good, but sock hop tuneful.

Raunchy’? Not much. ‘Shangri La’ didn’t get there.

Instrumental music guitar has always been a bit difficult. I admire good music but I also like my words, you know I do. Oops sorry I just had to slap myself, ‘Last Date’ just about twanged me to sleep. “Honky Tonk’ had words but needed women. Now ‘Rumble’ is good in a slow grind way. Nice sax  — which is also present and well played on several tracks. And then there’s ‘The RIver Kwai March,’ yes that one that opens with whistling. Actually in Eddy’s cover version, it sounds like a piccolo has replaced human lips. But this upbeat war music piece seems oddly out-of-place here.

Overall, my take is this is background music for a late 50s  dinner party. But he is a R&R hall of famer and Grammy winner, so what do I know.

File this one next to the Chet Atkins album I reviewed earlier.  Now for some instrumental party guitar, more what Eddy strives for, not Chet (a legend by the way),  I will in the future review a little known band called the Raybeats. Now they rock.

Also, I have a copy of an album by a group called the SIlencers from Pittsburgh which has a locked and loaded version of ‘Peter Gunn.” to be reviewed when I get to the S’s in my alphabetical journey.

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Forgive J.R. Smith (blog version)

NOTE:  A version of this originally appeared on AL.com.

I remember it like it was yesterday (and I have a degenerative brain disease.)

Playing right field, I reacted to the crack of the bat. This was big time Little League baseball in Athens, Ga.

“Please don’t let it come to me” went through my head like 1,000 times in a millisecond. Everything slowed down. My adrenaline was surging through my body. Everything slowed waaaay down. People were shouting 33-1/3 rpm when they should have been 45 rpm:

“Dooon’t Drop The Ball,” a horde of deep bass Lurches were yelling . I was moving in slow motion like I was underwater. I thought about my dog, Lucy.  Lucy had died recently. Oh my gosh,  Lucy is dead. I grieved in a millisecond.  I thought about my Dad in the stands, won’t he be proud of me if I catch this.  i thought about my Aunt Velma in Idaho, wait a minute,  I don’t have an Aunt Velma in Idaho.

Then things sped up triple speed. Whoooooooooosh!  Bat crack. Baseball is tiny dot in earth’s upper atmosphere. Falling, falling, getting bigger. Smacks my leather glove. Rolls out.

I dropped the ball.

In three seconds, I lived a lifetime.

The bases– which seemed pretty well  occupied by other team baseball kids — cleared . I’m not sure,  but I think all nine of their players touched home plate in the frenzy afterward.

The game, or life as they like to call it in Athens, Ga., was over.

Just like in the Johnny Cash song , ‘I  hung my head and cried.’

Flash forward to just a few weeks ago, I was playing basketball in  my Old Man Hoops League here in Birmingham. Good friends we all are. They helped organize a basketball fund-raiser for Lewy body dementia last year which we are looking to reprise (stay tuned for details).

So these are very good friends. They know my game and have an extensive scouting report on me. Boiled down the report is:  He used to be good, now he’s not.

Fair enough. Good bulletin board  material. (Smiley face insert here).

It was a next-bucket-wins the game thing. I had the ball. Most of the time I’d take a shot in that situation. But  out of the corner of  my eye  I saw Paul in an area  where he is comfortable  and accurate with his sweet little jumper. My faithful  and often painful worship of my childhood hero Pete Maravich possessed me to swing a behind-the-back pass to Paul which was rather easily picked off by Clay.

There commenced a race down the court which my 58-year-old legs denied me permission to participate in. They scored, they won.

My team avoided eye contact with me.

I know this is a long way to  getting to  the J.R. Smith headline. J.R, a good longtime NBA sharpshooter now with Cleveland Cavaliers, famously made a boo boo last week  in an extremely important  NBA Playoff game. The consensus is that he thought  his team was ahead when he rebounded the ball   with seconds left.  But it  was tied. Instead of putting it back up for a score and a win, he dribbled the ball out. Tied, the clock ran out and the game went into overtime.

Guess who won in overtime.

I’ll bet the world slowed down and sped  up for him.

National headlines. A public shaming.

Few thoughts. First he needs to come clean  and apologize to his teammates. And maybe he has. If so good for him!  I sought forgiveness  and it was good. “Don’t do that ever again,” my teammates said.

Thanks for your forgiveness, I said. (That’s how we usually say we forgive each other: Don’t ever let it happen again.

Secondly, J.R. needs to seek therapy.

This isn’t the first high level boneheaded play for him. For goodness sakes there’s a YouTube video chronicling his mistakes. Maybe there’s something from childhood that is stopping him from being all he can be.

I have a friend, yeah that’s right, a friend,  who was having recurring nightmares  about dropping a baseball and then after therapy he  had a dream that he caught it. Yaaaaaay. He ran around with ball in hand triumphantly.

But everybody was pointing and laughing.

Because he had no clothes on.

AAAARGH. Just a dream. Just a friend’s dream. Sometimes therapy doesn’t work.

But I forgive you J.R Smith.

I’ve been there.

 

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My Vinyl Countdown Top Posts (update)

I’ve reviewed 167 albums on my way to knocking off the 678 that makes up my collection. That means 511 to go. I do them and post them in alphabetical order, for the most part. That number you see beside the reviews is where that record fell in the countdown.

For example King Sunny Ade is 678 and 677 because his two albums I own made up my first post.

Below are my Top 10 music countdown posts based on hits (pageviews). The next Top 10 are my blog essays on various topics often related to my dealing with having Lewy body dementia.

My top 10 vinyl record reviews.

Dave Davies — 544, 543

Dolly Parton — 556, 555, 554 

The Allman Brothers Band — 671

Dickey Betts — 649, 648

King Sunny Ade — 678, 677

The Alarm – 675

Bo Diddley — 531

When Particles Collide — 606

The Beatles Mystery– 644, 643

Aerosmith — 676

 

Top 10 Posts that Were Not Countdown Music Reviews

 

Another hugging, this has got to stop

Saying goodbye to the Rev. Shannon Webster at First Presbyterian Church Birmingham.
 Some People are Mean

My brief encounter with a mean person.
Porter and Me

Lessons for me from a youngster who had a fatal genetic disease.
Today is Silent Saturday

I found out what Silent Saturday means.
How the heck am I doing?

I’m doing fine or not so fine.
Words, don’t fail me now

My biggest challenge and biggest fear.
Yellow Bird sighting. Is it a sign?

A rare yellow Cardinal spurs wonder at the  universe.
Me and My Old Boss

Upon seeing my former boss in memory care facility.
I Have to Laugh (To Keep from Crying)

It’s true. I tell how I keep laughing.

 
Gordon Hayward, broken bones and Lewy body dementia

 

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The Earl Slick Band — 507

ALBUM: Razor Sharp (1976)

MVC Rating: 3.5/$$

I remember exactly why I got this record but not where.

Earl Slick played guitars on one of my all time favorite albums, Tonio K’s ‘Life in the Foodchain.’ The wall of guitar sound on songs like the title song are amazing.  Of course that album also had legendary surf rock guitar  player Dick Dale, and country guitar great Albert Lee, among others, so that was a good picking group.

The Slick album is fairly generic hard rock. Kind of like Bad Company without the great hooks, or UFO without the in-your-face blasts of metal guitar.

But Slick can play.

Some of his solos mid-song really made me sit up and listen.  As a guitar fan,I will keep this record out and play it some more.

I could definitely hear that distinct wailing guitar sound he contributed to Foodchain. (Dale I believe contributed the clucking chicken guitar noise to  Foodchain’s ‘Funky Western CIvilization.’)

Slick played on several tours with David Bowie and also worked with John Lennon post-Beatles.

The unusual thing about the  Slick’s record, ‘Razor Sharp,’ and probably one of the things that pushed me to buy it is it’s odd cover.

It has a  three dimensional depiction of a  razor blade with what is obviously supposed to be blood dripping and a slit, an actual slit, in the front cover as if the razor had made it. (See the pictures).

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Memo to Rick Bragg: Let’s sit down, reminisce and laugh (blog version)

 

Note: This story appears in slightly different version on AL.com here

Dear Rick

Great seeing you last night at your book signing.

If I forgot to say it: Congratulations on your cookbook/memoir ‘The Best Cook in the World: Tales from My Momma’s Table.’

How many were there at the Alabama Booksmith in Homewood to get a book signed? Looked to be about 200. Amazing.

Sorry I couldn’t stay. Greg Garrison, his son Wes, and I were on the way to a debate sponsored by AL.com, and we would have slowed your two-hour signing process way down.

You and me made note of not seeing each other in a long time. Last I remember was lunch at Niki’s West, your favorite Birmingham dining spot. But that was a few years ago.

Oliver Bragg.JPG Mike Oliver, Rick Bragg at Alabama Booksmith in Homewood

We talked about getting together and having a sit-down talk to catch up. I joked we could spend two hours alone talking about our ailments. And, hell, we’re only 58.

This writing thing, or more specifically, the living thing, hasn’t always been easy but I want to compare your memories to mine over a cup of something, probably coffee.

The goal: Find lots of stuff to laugh about.

I want to reminisce about when we went on tour of West Jefferson Correctional Institution and had lunch with the inmates. Yeast rolls and butterbeans. There was Juicy and the Captain.

Walking out in the yard, the inmates shouted at us: “And the walls came tumbling down.” This was in the wake of the St. Clair prison riot in 1985 and the reason you and I went on this tour of West Jefferson. It led to a story on how the riot went down and prison conditions, which alas, haven’t changed much.

By the way, that Biblical quote (and John Cougar-Mellencamp song) shouted by the prisoners: You turned that into the opening of the story – another Rick Bragg special.

I remember when we got in some pretty big trouble for publishing the inmate’s list of demands.

I remember when we wrote together you’d tap something on the keyboards of our old VDT’s, look at me with a smile, stand up and say: I’ve got to walk that one off.

We can reminisce about the series of stories on foster children lost in the system which won some awards and a big luncheon thank-you from the National Social Workers Association.

We can talk about going to see Tom Petty in Atlanta. Road trip with several other Birmingham News folks, Dennis Love maybe? We’ll remember it.

We can talk about the big party after your first book signing for “All Over But the Shoutin’.” It was Atlanta and several of us ended up crashing on your floor. Or maybe it was you crashing on the floor. We’ll remember it. Luckily you lived right across the street from one of the oldest if not THE oldest Krispy Kreme establishment in America.

Rick Bragg and his mother.jpgRick Bragg goes for a walk with his mother, Margaret Bragg, who is the inspiration for his new book, “The Best Cook in the World.” (Photo by Terry Manier)

I remember you, me and Howard joining up and navigating the streets of San Francisco. We  were looking for fine dining and wound up in a burger joint. It was a good burger joint though.

I can remind you of how my wife, Catherine, pointed out with semi-feigned indignation because my name was in the “Shoutin”’ book (page 158)  but NOT her name.

You grabbed a book and wrote on the title page: ‘Dear Catherine, You’re in the book now, Sunshine.’

She loved it.

We got plenty to talk about, my time in California, your wedding in Memphis, Randy, families and friends. I mainly just want to follow up and make sure we do make a plan.

So, Niki’s?

I’ll tell Greg. (I’ll need a ride).