10 SONGS: 8/11/2020

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. Given my intention to usually write these on Mondays, the lists are often dominated by songs played on the previous night's edition of This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl. The idea was inspired by Don Valentine of the essential blog I Don't Hear A Single.



This week's edition of 10 Songs draws exclusively from the playlist for This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio # 1037.

AC/DC: Rock 'n' Roll Damnation


AC/DC! I've kinda liked them for decades, while never quite becoming a full-on fan. I own very little of their stuff, but I would snap up a decent best-of set if the band ever allows such a thing to exist. 

I first heard of AC/DC as a freshman in college, probably when I won a copy of their Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be LP from the Brockport campus radio station WBSU in the fall of '77. It was one of a number of records I won from the station through call-in giveaways, all of which the station asked me to return. I had been interested in joining WBSU, and signed up to find out more about how I could make that happen. WBSU's president said that stated interest made me ineligible to keep my winnings. Pissed off by such after-the-fact hedging, I gave back the records and I angrily rescinded my application to the station. THAT'LL show 'em! Because of that, I wound up not doing any college radio at all.

I never got around to playing Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be, so my actual introduction to AC/DC was on commercial album-rock radio. It might have been "Rock 'n' Roll Damnation" from Powerage, which I remember hearing alongside "Down Payment Blues" and possibly "It's A Long Way To The Top." As my fervor for punk rock grew, Syracuse new wave fanzine Poser reviewed Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be and suggested making it more punk by speeding it up and re-titling "Problem Child" as "Problem Pinhead."



AC/DC remained a peripheral act for me. I loved "Highway To Hell," and later "You Shook Me All Night Long," the latter with new singer Brian Johnson replacing the late Bon Scott. I remember dancing with a girl at a nightclub as AC/DC boomed on its monolithic PA. I remember going to see a cover band play a Yuletime gig, and that group's singer coming out decked in full Santa Claus garb to perform "Highway To Hell" as "Sleigh Ride To Hell." And I remember calling a radio station during a pledge drive marathon on March 30th, 1981, when you could request a song in exchange for a donation. I happened to be in the mood for some AC/DC, but the DJ stopped me cold, saying, No. I'm not playing AC/DC. I don't care how much you pay. I'M NOT PLAYING AC/DC!!

And yeah, the station was WBSU. Lemme tell ya: things woulda been a little different there if I'd joined up. 

(To be fair, I should also note that the DJ apologized instantly for his seeming intransigence, explaining that he was exhausted from the marathon shift and really, really didn't wanna play AC/DC, We settled on a spin of The Ramones instead. So...upgrade! And it was during this same radio marathon that news broke of the attempted assassination of President Reagan. You can imagine the reaction of sleep-deprived student jocks having to read wire reports over the air with no warning or prep time. We're receiving breaking news that President Reagan has been shot...wait, WHAT? OH MY GOD, this is terrible! Is this for real...?!)

And it's a rock and roll damnation.

THE FOUR SEASONS: Walk Like A Man


I'm just old enough to remember hearing The Four Seasons on pre-Beatles radio in the early '60s. That high voice of Frankie Valli calling dogs to dinner on "Sherry" and "Big Girls Don't Cry" was distinctive, but I never had much interest in the group. In my senior year of college, one of my suitemates was a Four Seasons fan, and he couldn't understand why I thought they were so uncool.

But that's what I thought. Clunky. Uncool. In later years, I developed an awareness of the sheer craft of those records, but at the time of my late '70s immersion in the righteously rockin' noise of punk, new wave, power pop, and rock 'n' roll, when my heightened affection for the '60s meant an adoration of British Invasion, garage, and The Monkees, The Four Seasons simply were not part of my preferred soundscape. They were, to me, too obviously old school, more Frank Sinatra than Rolling Stones. I didn't hate them. 

But I didn't like them, either.



You wanna hear a weird turning point? There was this 1993 movie called Heart And Souls, an inconsequential trifle starring Robert Downey Jr., Charles Grodin, Alfre Woodard, and a cast of dozens. I barely remember seeing the movie, but I remember its use of The Four Seasons' "Walk Like A Man," and I remember digging the song for the first time...ever? Could be. I can't explain what or why, but I've been into the song since that evening at the cinema.

I'm probably not ever going to be the world's biggest Four Seasons fan. I don't care about cool or uncool--I dig what I dig--but I also can't pretend that I like something more than I do. And I have no affinity whatsoever for Valli and/or the Seasons' work in the '70s and beyond; I'd be perfectly okay with never hearing "Who Loves You," "Swearin' To God," "My Eyes Adored You," "December, 1963 (Oh What A Night)," or "Grease" again. 

But.

I can appreciate some of the '60s stuff now. "Workin' My Way Back To You." "Let's Hang On!" "Big Man In Town." "Rag Doll." A relative obscurity called "Let's Ride Again." Valli's original version of "Silence Is Golden," though I do still prefer The Tremeloes' hit cover. These are terrific records, a statement of the obvious that I would not have conceded when I was in my teens or twenties. "Walk Like A Man" is freakin' superb. Hell, I might even consider seeing Jersey Boys. No rush. We're walkin' here.

KISS: Then She Kissed Me


KISS does the girl groups! I...should probably rephrase that.

Teen me bought KISS' 1977 album Love Gun for its hit single "Christine Sixteen," a song I liked and my college roommate detested. My affection for the song has largely faded over time, and I'm now more likely to play a Paul Stanley power pop song called "Tomorrow And Tonight" from that album than I am to spin the hit. But this gender-switched cover of a song made famous by The Crystals was a favorite then, and it's my favorite Love Gun track now. 

The members of KISS, of course, hate it. But what do they know?

NICO: I'm Not Sayin'



My early '80s purchase of a used copy of the The Velvet Underground & Nico LP was my first opportunity to hear The Velvet Underground and/or Nico (part of a story told here). Nico's 1965 rendition of Gordon Lightfoot's "I'm Not Sayin'" predates her VU residency, but I didn't hear it until Dana played it in 1992, on an episode of TIRnRR's precursor We're Your Friends For Now on WNMA. Nico's voice tended to be hard-edged, a product of her Teutonic origin, more Marlene Dietrich than Dusty Springfield or Diana Ross. She sounded her sweetest on the Velvets' "I'll Be Your Mirror" and on "I'm Not Sayin'," a pretty folk-pop number from pop music's best year ever.

PSYCHEDELIC FURS: Pretty In Pink


This was the first Psychedelic Furs track I ever owned. Actually, it's tied for that honor with "Sister Europe," since both songs were on the 1981 various-artists budget sampler Exposed II: A Cheap Peek At Today's Provocative New Rock. Yep, it's the same Exposed two-fer mentioned in reference to Holly and the Italians in last week's 10 Songs. Bang for your buck, my friends. 



It was not the first Furs song I ever heard. A friend of mine bought the group's eponymous debut LP, and played it for the first time on a visit to my apartment. The memory is bittersweet; we were friends, but we would not remain friends. Another story for another time. Neither of us was terribly impressed with the album initially (though I think my then-friend came around to digging it eventually), but a song called "We Love You" stood out for me: near-cacophonous pop music, punctuated by shrieking saxophone and a sneering whine of a lead vocal inspired (I felt) by one John Lydon. I should have hated it. Instead, I was mesmerized. Nowadays, it's on my iPod, and I sneer and sing right along with it.

I never became a Psychedelic Furs fan. Not because of any lingering resentment of people who exiled themselves from my circle; the group just didn't really appeal to me. The two obvious exceptions were "We Love You" and "Pretty In Pink."  The latter subsequently became embedded into pop culture thanks to director John Hughes and actress Molly Ringwald, but in '81 it was already a standout pop song; it was just a standout pop song that the world didn't know about yet. "Love My Way" later served as the group's introduction to a larger American audience, but "We Love You" and "Pretty In Pink" remain the only Psychedelic Furs works that ever connected with me.

ROXY MUSIC: Love Is The Drug



My brain retains no real recollection of discovering the sound of Roxy Music. The earliest specific memory I can pinpoint is hearing "Dance Away" on the radio in my dorm room circa 1979. The track (which I liked immediately) was from the group's then-recent album Manifesto, which was something of a Roxy Music comeback record. It certainly was not the first I heard or heard of Roxy Music.

So: where did I start with Roxy Music? Well, it's possible I saw them perform on Supersonic, a mid-'70s British jukebox TV show that was shown on cable from NYC's WPIX. I probably read about them in Phonograph Record Magazine. And, even though I can't back this up with a concrete memory, I certainly heard "Love Is The Drug" on the radio. Somewhere. Some time. It had to have been my first exposure to Roxy Music, even if I don't quite remember it.

'Tain't no big thing....

The first Roxy Music song I owned was "Same Old Scene," on the Times Square soundtrack album. I got my first Roxy Music album in 1982, a used copy of the debut LP. When a friend visited my apartment, I showed him that record along with a few other recent acquisitions (an Elvis Presley 2-LP best-of on swirly colored vinyl, Lords Of The New Church, and a positively brutalized used copy of New York Dolls). He knew Roxy Music quite well, but was surprised to learn that I might be a fan, too.

Maybe I was a fan. Maybe I wasn't yet. If not, I'd get there before long. The smooth, luxurious splendor of the 1982 Avalon album and its magnificent single "More Than This" blew me away. I liked the earlier, noisier stuff. I liked the later, subtly swaying stuff. Yeah, I was a fan. I love music. I love Roxy Music. And love is the drug I need.

THE SHAGGS: You're Something Special To Me


No, I have nothing to say about this track. Except to point out that it was one of Dana's picks this week.

SHIRLEY AND COMPANY: Shame, Shame, Shame

Shirley And Company's "Shame, Shame, Shame" conjures an odd and unwelcome juxtaposition of images for me. I remember the song from its reign on the radio, of course, even though I didn't really get around to appreciating its merit until later. 

But I associate the song with a bit I saw on now-disgraced comedian Bill Cosby's variety TV show in the '70s. It was kind of a cool bit, actually, with Cosby and company lip-syncing to the record in a deadpan fashion that was both amusing and invigorating. I think I first started to really dig the song in that moment. It bothers me that this pleasant memory is tainted by the subsequent revelation of Cosby's loathsome criminal actions. Context. as I've said before: sometimes we can separate art from artist, and sometimes our comfort level prohibits such separation.

(And it's further unfair to penalize the song itself, since Shirley and Company had only an incidental connection to Cosby's show.)



It never occurred to me that "Shame, Shame, Shame" incorporated the Bo Diddley beat until I got a Rhino Records compilation CD called Bo Diddley Beats, which included the song among its gathering of bomp-bomp-bomp-ba-bomp-bomp examples performed by Diddley, The Johnny Otis Show, Ben E. King, The Crickets, Donovan, The Strangeloves, et al. That provides a much more agreeable setting to enjoy the charm of Shirley and Company.

MATTHEW SWEET AND SUSANNA HOFFS: Care Of Cell 44



I'm a big fan of music. Yes, yes, I realize you already knew that. And while I wish I were capable of making music, that particular skill set was not included in my personal utility belt. As a fan, I remain grateful for the gift musicians grant us. And I'm especially grateful when the musicians seem to also be fans, like me.

Heh. I'm sure most musicians are fans, anyway. I guess that would stand to reason, right? That's why they make music in the first place, other than, y'know, looking cool and facilitating the process of getting what we euphemistically refer to as "dates." Some musician/fans proclaim their devotion with the same evident glee as me putting up a Suzi Quatro poster, wearing my Kinks t-shirt, co-hosting a radio show, or writing a blog. 

Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs (aka Sid n Susie) are fans. Their love of the music is apparent in their own work, of course, and obvious in Under The Covers, a series of covers collections they've done. Oh, these are exquisite, offering this dynamic duo's lovingly-executed takes on material by The Stone Poneys, The Raspberries, Carly Simon, and more. It ain't easy to cover The Zombies; that group's originals are damned near perfect. But Matthew and Susanna's rendition of "Care Of Cell 44" captures the fragile beauty of The Zombies' Odessey And Oracle LP to striking effect. Here's to Sid n Susie; I am proud to be a fan of these particular music fans.

WILLIE MAE "BIG MAMA" THORNTON AND JOHNNY ACE: Yes Baby



We chose to herald next week's presentation of The Ninth Annual DANA'S FUNKY SOUL PIT with an epic extra-length closing set this week, servin' up a taste of the heady mix of soul, R & B, blues, and whatever else Dana feels like putting into the pit next week. The tease this week included The Bandwagon, Aretha Franklin, Arthur Alexander, Erma Franklin, Prince, Nichelle Nichols, The Mynah Birds, Little Eva, Chuck Berry, The Isley Brothers, Tiny Bradshaw, Arthur Conley, and The Gaylads. It also included "Yes Baby," an invigorating 1954 jump blues summit between Johnny Ace and Big Mama Thornton. For those (like me!) not previously familiar with this boppin' little number, you'll hear a bit of Little Richard's "Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey" roughly four years before Little Richard wrote and recorded "Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey," and a decade before The Beatles covered Little Richard's "Kansas City/Hey-Hey-Hey-Hey" medley. It's all connected. It's all essential. And it's ALL pop music. Come back next week for our annual trip to Dana's Funky Soul Pit.



TIP THE BLOGGER: CC's Tip Jar!

You can support this blog by becoming a patron on Patreon: Fund me, baby! 

This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio with Dana & Carl airs Sunday nights from 9 to Midnight Eastern, on the air in Syracuse at SPARK! WSPJ 103.3 and 93.7 FM, and on the web at http://sparksyracuse.org/ You can read about our history here.

The many fine This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio compilation albums are still available, each full of that rockin' pop sound you crave. A portion of all sales benefit our perpetually cash-strapped community radio project:

Volume 1: download

Volume 2: CD or download
Volume 3: download

Volume 4: CD or download

Waterloo Sunset--Benefit For This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio:  CD or download

Carl's writin' a book! The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) will contain 155 essays about 155 tracks, each one of 'em THE greatest record ever made. An infinite number of records can each be the greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Updated initial information can be seen here: THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE! (Volume 1).