THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE! The Monkees, "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone [live]"

Drawn in part from previous posts, this is not included in my book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1).

An infinite number of tracks can each be THE greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Today, this is THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE!

THE MONKEES: (I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone [live]

Written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart

Produced by Bert Schneider, Bob Rafelson, and Bill Inglot

Originally unreleased live performance recorded on August 25, 1967; first released on the album Live 1967, Rhino Records, 1987

Come and watch them sing and play.

The best-known version of the '60s garage punk stomper "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone" was recorded by the (originally) made-for-TV combo the Monkees. Written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, the Monkees' version appeared on the group's second album More Of The Monkees in 1967, and it was the B-side of their # 1 smash single "I'm A Believer," creating a two-sided 45 rpm winner that could rival the Beatles and the Beach Boys. Even as a mere B-side, the Monkees' "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone" made it to # 20 on Billboard's Hot 100.

As "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone," the song was first recorded by the Liverpool Five, released on their 1966 album Arrive. I knew nothing about that version until, y'know, Wikipedia just told me about it. Beating the Liverpool Five to retail if not to the studio, Paul Revere and the Raiders cut the first released version of "Steppin' Stone," and there's ample rockin' reason why many consider the Raiders' take to be definitive. The Sex Pistols covered it in the '70s, certifying the song's enduring, surly cred.

Paul Revere and the Raiders were a terrific rock 'n' roll group masquerading as costume-party Revolutionaries, so of course their "Steppin' Stone" simmers with authority and swagger. They planned to release it as a single. When the Raiders were offered the Barry Mann-Cynthia Weil anti-drug anthem "Kicks," the Raiders thought (correctly) that was a sure-fire hit record, so they delayed "Stepping Stone" and released "Kicks" instead. Boyce and Hart, pissed off and convinced they were being yanked around, took the song to the Monkees. 

As great as the Raiders' "Steppin' Stone" is, I like the Monkees' version best. Although they were still just a prefab entity at the time, the Monkees' machine somehow created a rendition with even more punch than the invincible Raiders, more power, more precision; it can't match the seeming abandon of the Raiders, but it matches and even slightly surpasses their intensity, and Micky Dolenz delivers a vocal that cannot be topped. Puppets with a chip on their shoulders? The Monkees would not remain puppets for much longer.

After More Of The Monkees, our assembled MonkeeMen--Dolenz, Davy Jones, Peter Tork, and Michael Nesmith--staged an unprecedented show biz coup that allowed them to become the functioning rock 'n' roll band they played on television. They began to play on their studio sessions. They played live--Micky, Davy, Peter, and Mike--closing their 1967 concerts with a savage pummeling of "(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone."

For decades, the public had very little access to evidence of the live Monkees. There was nothing--nothing--on record. There were the live clips featured in "The Monkees On Tour," the final episode of the first season of their TV series. There was the in-concert performance of "Circle Sky" witnessed in their dark and brilliant 1968 film Head. The Head soundtrack LP used a comparatively tepid studio version of "Circle Sky" instead. 

With lack of even an Exhibit A to support the claim that the Monkees could play, much of the general public concluded that the Monkees could not play. I remember being at a 1979 gig by my favorite power pop group the Flashcubes, chatting with 'Cubes drummer Tommy Allen before their set. In the course of that discussion, Tommy and I expressed our mutual interest in the Monkees' records. Guitarist Paul Armstrong overheard and quipped, "Yeah, especially the Monkees' live album." Tommy and I immediately gushed in perfect harmony, "Is there a Monkees live album...?!" Paul rolled his eyes in dismissal of our inability to get his joke. The Monkees playing live? Sure. As if!

Paul Armstrong knows as much about rock 'n' roll music as anybody. But even he bought into the myth that the Monkees couldn't play, because there wasn't much of anything to prove, nor even just suggest, that they could.

I think the live "Circle Sky" made its waaaay-belated retail debut on a 1979 3-LP compilation called Monkeemania, issued only in Australia and using a master presumably dubbed from a bootleg video of the film itself. I loved it. I wanted to hear more evidence of the Monkees in live performance.

Resurgent Monkeemania granted that wish in 1987, with the release of Live 1967, which I adored in all its rough 'n' ragged glory. It's not that the Monkees were ever at the level of technical proficiency of the seasoned studio cats who played on The Monkees and More Of The Monkees, nor that they were even as tight in concert as producer Chip Douglas managed to nudge them into being in the studio for the making of their 1967 hey-hey-we're-a-real band triumph Headquarters (the album the Monkees were hyping at the time of these live recordings). On stage, before thousands of screaming fans, the Monkees were THE biggest garage band the world has ever seen. Bigger than the Ramones. Bigger than the Clash. As punk as anything ever, and as legitimately DIY as a mainstream show-biz project could ever dare to be. Yeah, come and watch 'em sing and play, ya bastards!

The tracks on Live 1967 were patched together from three different shows, trying to choose the best representation of each song on the Monkees' set list. Like the concerts themselves, Live 1967 concludes with"(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone," because let's face it, nothing they did could hope to follow that. The live "Steppin' Stone" is a grungy, full-throttle leap into the air: Loud, messy, barely (if at all) tethered to the mortal plane, a noise that revels in its ability to just freakin' rock. Micky's vocal remains in his control, Davy and Michael nearly scream, Peter does scream, and the former puppets wail away on guitar, bass, drums, and tambourine, culminating in an absolute musical freak-out, all of it accomplished with the sure-eyed determination of a local rock group down the street trying hard to learn their song.

And succeeding. The Monkees were on stage, in their Heaven, and if all wasn't quite right with the world, they made enough noise to drown out the world's tsuris with a ferocity that would have made the Sex Pistols jealous.

I've been a Monkees fan since 1966. As steel is forged in the crucible, so my belief in the Monkees was hardened the more people tried to convince me they were no good, plastic, lesser. Bullshit. I know what I hear, I know what I see, and I know what I like. The Monkees TV series helped to form my sense of comedy, right alongside the droll British humor--er, humour--of the Beatles' movies, the broad schtick of Jerry Lewis and The Three Stooges, and the brilliance of The Marx Brothers. The Monkees' records were outstanding. If they'd all been assembled in a laboratory by Dr. Frankenstein and Don Kirshner, they'd still be great records. The fact that Michael, Peter, Micky, and Davy also took some measure of control, and became a band rather than just playing one on TV, just enhances the richness of the Monkees story. The Monkees are one of my favorite groups, and they always will be.

And they could put on a show. Trying to make their mark in society. Using all the tricks they learned from everywhere, from rock to blues to country to pop to the three chords and a chip on their shoulder celebrated by vintage garage-punk Nuggets afficionados all over the world. Walkin' 'round like the front-page news they were. Steppin' stones no longer. Punk, meet the mainstream. Mainstream, meet the goddamn Monkees.

If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit to CC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.

I compiled a various-artists tribute album called Make Something Happen! A Tribute To The Flashcubes, and it's pretty damned good; you can read about it here and order it here. My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.

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, streaming at SPARK stream and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. You can read about our history here.

10 SONGS: 6/14/2025

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. The lists are usually dominated by songs played on the previous Sunday 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 # 1289

THE GRIP WEEDS: Soul Bender

This little mutant radio show is always delighted to play brand new music from the Grip Weeds. We're also delighted to play familiar music from the Grip Weeds. We are remarkably--and delightedly--consistent on that point. And an opportunity to open a show with a new single from the Grip Weeds? We're ON it! "Soul Bender" is the advance single and title track from the group's eagerly-anticipated new album, and delight rules the friggin' day. Delight will renew itself with another spin of "Soul Bender" on our next show.

KID GULLIVER: 24 Hours

We are also delighted to play both new and familiar music from Kid Gulliver. We're fans! The group's "Forget About Him" is a proven TIRnRR Fave Rave, and we included it on our 2022 compilation This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 5. It's been a bit since we've had anything new from these Kids, but the wait is over! New single "24 Hours" is a little more Ramonesified than previous Kid Gulliver classics, though the comparison to your Joey, your Johnny, and your Dee Dee is in terms of the track's forward-lunging rhythmic thrust. The resulting flourish of pretty pop music is pure Kid Gulliver. Welcome back, Kids.

AMY RIGBY: Bitter

JILL SOBULE: Someone's Gonna Break Your Heart

Tribute.

Our time in this mortal plane is steeped in loss, reluctant farewells whispered again and again. Beyond the devastation of personal losses, we also mourn people we've never met, but who nonetheless became a part of our lives through the magic of the art they created. We are inundated with constant, rapid-fire reminders of our fragile nature. On this week's show, we felt the fresh wound of losing Terry Draper, and since then the losses of both Sly Stone and Brian Wilson. 

And we still feel the sting of the recent loss of Jill Sobule. Amy Rigby acknowledges that sting, and she's channeled the lingering ache into a homemade cover of Sobule's "Bitter," a song Sobule wrote with Richard Barone of the Bongos. The track is now available as a single, with sales benefitting The Jill Fund. A worthy tribute for a worthy cause.

We followed Amy Rigby's version of "Bitter" with another spin of what's become my favorite Jill Sobule track, "Someone's Gonna Break Your Heart." With hearts born to be broken, we do our best to avoid becoming bitter.

THE CORNER LAUGHERS: Speak To The Sky

Last week's exciting edition of 10 Songs extolled the virtues of the new various-artists collection Second By Second By Minute By Minute: The Songs Of Rick Springfield. My favorite Rick Springfield song is his very first single, 1972's "Speak To The Sky." On the new tribute album, the Corner Laughers offer a loving and heartfelt rendition of "Speak To The Sky," capturing the ache of looking to the heavens and communicating with the cherished memory of a departed father, speaking to the sky every night. More loss. The comfort is sweet and welcome. 

We'll play this again on Sunday. Father's Day. Love you , Dad. It's been thirteen years, but I know you're still with me all of the time.

PAUL REVERE AND THE RAIDERS: Just Like Me

The Greatest Record Ever Made!

THE FLASHCUBES: The Sweet Spot

SORROWS: Radio

After many months of gleeful teasing, we have announced the track listing for the long-promised tribute album honoring Syracuse's own power pop powerhouse the Flashcubes. Due out in September from the irresistible rockin' pop force of Big Stir Records, our twenty-four track salute Make Something Happen! A Tribute To The Flashcubes gathers twenty-one new covers of songs written by members of the 'Cubes, and supplements 'em with three new recordings by the Flashcubes themselves. This week, we reprised a couple of already-proven Make Something Happen! favorites--the Flashcubes' "The Sweet Spot" and Sorrows' epic cover of "Radio"--as we look toward the bright lights of September. The sweet spot! Let us be your radio.

(And on our next show, we'll debut two more tracks from Make Something Happen!, as Graham Parker and Mike Gent take on "Pathetic" and Rob Moss and Skin-Tight Skin conjure up a "Bad Dream." We will also have encore spins of Flashcubes tribute album tracks by Tom Kenny and the Hi-Seas and Librarians With Hickeys, another run through Make Something Happen!'s first single "Reminisce," and we'll even throw in the Slapbacks' previous cover of "Make Something Happen" from This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 4. The tribute you take is equal to the tribute you make.)

KLAATU: Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft

We mentioned the passing of Terry Draper. Draper was best-known as the drummer for Klaatu, and he also crafted an impressive body of work as a solo artist. Terry was always nice to us, and we mourn along with his friends and family. We've played a fair amount of his music over the years, both solo and with Klaatu, and also working with Ray Paul. This week, our opening set included "For The Few" from Draper's 2024 album In The Beginning. And we circled back near show's end for a spin of Klaatu's most famous track, "Calling Occupants Of Interplanetary Craft." We are your friends. Godspeed, Terry Draper.

THE BEATLES: Within You Without You

From a previous post about Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, picking up the narrative with Side 2, Track 1:

"...The mystic hum of Indian music invites us back inside. Many will skip over George Harrison's meditative 'Within You Without You' on subsequent spins, and your humble blogger would be among them for a while, until the song's beguiling, subtle magic eventually completes its spell, capturing the heart forever thereafter...."

We were talking about the love we all could share. Life goes on within you and without you. Music endures. Memory endures for as long as we can hold it. We endure for as long as we can hold on.

If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit to CC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.

My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.

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, streaming at SPARK stream and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO. You can read about our history here.

THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE: Paul Revere and the Raiders, "Just Like Me"

A slightly streamlined version of this chapter appears in my book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1).

An infinite number of tracks can each be THE greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Today, this is THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE!

PAUL REVERE AND THE RAIDERS: Just Like Me

Written by Rick Dey and Rich Brown

Produced by Terry Melcher
Single, Columbia Records, 1965

Wilson Pickett meets the Kinks. Welcome to 1965.

The democracy of Top 40 radio in the '60s (and even into the '70s) meant that all the myriad styles that would eventually become rigidly segmented and segregated--rock, soul, country, pop, easy listening, dance music, R & B, bubblegum, folk, novelty tunes, some blues, even some jazz--were not only allowed to co-exist within a single format, it was expected that they would. It was all pop music, so pop radio played it all. We lost that somewhere along the way. And we are much poorer for that loss. 

Schisms developed, even within that time frame. The divisions may not have manifested much on the AM airwaves, but they were there. Beatles or Stones? Stax or Motown? British Invasion or made-in-America? Rock or soul or country or pop? 

And, as the '60s wore on: Heavy or bubblegum?

By decade's end, the image of a band like Paul Revere and the Raiders became difficult for some to take seriously. Visually gimmicky, decked out in outlandish stage garb that suggested a dinner theater production of 1776! or Hamilton years before the fact, their live and TV performances were punctuated by slapstick and schtick, with syncopated steps like Motown's answer to the Redcoats, and the men not knowing while the little girls understood (and how!) the dream appeal of lead singer Mark Lindsay. The cognoscenti would sniff and sneer. Worthless bubblegum!

Now, we're savvy enough to know that "bubblegum" shouldn't necessarily be a pejorative. But the music of Paul Revere and the Raiders transcends that discussion anyway. For all their good-time vibe, their Revolutionary War costumes, their synchronized stage moves, their snappy patter, their TV stardom, and Mark Lindsay as the face that launched a thousand 16 magazine pin-ups, the Raiders made rock 'n' roll records. In fact, they made great rock 'n' roll records, releasing a string of nonpareil singles and fab LP tracks that can stand and sway alongside some of the best rock 'n' roll music of the 1960s. In the wake of the British Invasion in 1964, there was no shortage of domestic acts seeking to become known as the American Beatles; Paul Revere and the Raiders, already veteran hands at rockin' instrumentals and nascent frat-rock, were the first high-profile US act to seek the title of American Stones.

If Paul Revere and the Raiders were bubblegum, then by God, so were the Rolling Stones. 

They'd started out as just another working band. Idaho boogie-woogie piano player Paul Revere Dick recruited saxophonist Lindsay to join his instrumental combo the Downbeats in 1958. By 1960, the piano-player had dropped his last name and his group had become Paul Revere and the Raiders. The line-up shifted and evolved, and scraped the bottom of the national Top 40 with the rockin' classical music workout "Like, Long Hair" in 1961.

Bossman Revere was drafted, and had to leave his own group because of Uncle Sam's deal. Lindsay and Revere reunited in '62, relocated to Portland, Oregon, midnight-riding through the Pacific Northwest. By now a singing and playing group, the Raiders' version of "Louie Louie"--recorded in April '63 around the same time and at the same Portland studio that the Kingsmen cut their gloriously sloppy hit rendition--was a regional success. Columbia Records noticed. Welcome to the big time, you Raiders.

Television personality Dick Clark also noticed; he knew a thing or two, and offered to put the Raiders on a TV show. Where The Action Is aired weekday afternoons, and Paul Revere and the Raiders were the de facto house band: Revere, Lindsay, bassist Phil "Fang" Volk, guitarist Drake Levin, and drummer Mike "Smitty" Smith. They cavorted and pranced in sparkling black-and-white, playing covers, playing stars, and living the part. It was 1965. Anything could happen in 1965.

"Steppin' Out," a cantankerous jolt of greasy, pissed-off orneriness written by Revere and Lindsay, was the Raiders' first single in the wake of Where The Action Is, and it couldn't quite breach the Top 40, stepping down after a peak at # 46. Their follow-up would be the Raiders' first Top 20 single.

"Just Like Me" was a cover, but virtually no one had heard the original version by a group called the Wilde Knights. In the hands of Paul Revere and the Raiders and their producer Terry Melcher, "Just Like Me" moved from the garage-punk Kinks feel of the Wilde Knights' take into something more intrinsically pop, something tailor-made for hit radio, yet still unmistakably, unerringly rock 'n' roll.

The differences are striking. Melcher and the Raiders tweak the song's intro, retaining the chunk-a-chunka rhythm inspired by Kinks guitarist Dave Davies, but grafting it with a soulful flourish nicked directly from Wilson Pickett's "In The Midnight Hour." Mark Lindsay, who had swaggered so effectively on "Steppin' Out," suddenly pouts like a teen idol oughta, a lonely pop heart longing for elusive fulfillment and, one presumes, action. The little girls for damned sure understood. With continued TV exposure and a # 11 hit, Paul Revere and the Raiders were well and truly on their way.

More hits followed, including four Top 10 smashes--"Kicks," "Hungry," "Good Thing," and "Him Or Me--What's It Gonna Be?"--in 1966 and '67. The classic Where The Action Is cast o' Raiders was temporary; Levin, like Revere before him, also had to leave town because of Uncle Sam's deal, though he continued to record with the group even as Jim "Harpo" Valley took his place on tour. But by the middle of 1967, only Revere and Lindsay remained as permanent Raiders. 

That may not have mattered all that much. As time went on, much (if not all) of the Raiders' studio work was managed by Lindsay and Melcher, with or without other Raiders present. Accomplished by whatever combination of Lindsay, Melcher, Raiders, and Raiders associates, the quality of the Raiders' collective body of work throughout the '60s is staggering, and well deserving of rediscovery. 

Paul Revere and the Raiders were disdained by the hipper-than-thou. Their image, their approach, their name itself proclaimed them as uncool, square, and (ironically) anti-Revolutionary. In 1969, wondering if perhaps a rockin' Raiders record could connect with the progressive crowd if unencumbered by the Raiders brand name, Lindsay sent a new Raiders song called "Let Me" to an influential FM DJ in L.A.; the song was credited to the Pink Puzz, and the DJ loved it and played it until he learned that the Pink Puzz was really those crass, commercial sellouts Paul Revere and the Raiders. Suddenly, he didn't like the track anymore, and he stopped playing it. He was, let's face it, a weasel. 

But the weasels were in control. That hasn't really changed since then.

In 1970, Paul Revere and the Raiders shortened their nom du bop to just the Raiders. Mark Lindsay finally left the group in 1975; Paul Revere restored the group's longer name, and the Raiders thrived on the oldies circuit until Revere's death in 2014. But before that, in 1971, the group had its sole # 1 hit with "Indian Reservation." "Indian Reservation" is not a bad record, but it is not--it is not--worthier of a Top of the Pops moment than most of the many great Raiders singles that preceded it.

This is particularly true of "Just Like Me," a magic meeting of Wilson Pickett and the Kinks, as seen on TV and on the covers of teen magazines across this great land of ours. Pop music. Democracy in action. One if by land. Two if by sea. The heaviest bubblegum you ever could love. 1965. Listen, my children, and you shall hear.

If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider a visit to CC's Tip Jar. You can also become a Boppin' booster on my Patreon page.

My new book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) is now available, and you can order an autographed copy here. You can still get my previous book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones from publisher Rare Bird Books, OR an autographed copy here. If you like the books, please consider leaving a rating and/or review at the usual online resources.

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, streaming at SPARK stream and on the Radio Garden app as WESTCOTT RADIO

10 SONGS: 6/16/2023

10 Songs is a weekly list of ten songs that happen to be on my mind at the moment. The lists are usually dominated by songs played on the previous Sunday 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 # 1185. This show is available as a podcast.

JUSTINE AND THE UNCLEAN: The Signal Light

This was supposed to be a celebration.

The Signal Light is the first Justine and the Unclean album since Heartaches And Hot Problems in 2018, and also the first since the group made its TIRnRR debut with the fantastic "Vengeance" single in 2020. Love at first spin! We've played each and every one of the singles they've released since then, and we included "Vengeance" on our own compilation album This Is Rock 'n' Roll Radio, Volume 5 in 2022. We were so looking forward to the release of The Signal Light, and the album does not disappoint, collecting all of those great singles (including "Vengeance") alongside more brilliant new music from Justine and the Unclean. If ever an album was primed for carpet-bomb programming on TIRnRR, The Signal Light is that album.

So we opened this week's show with Justine and the Unclean, with the title track from The Signal Light. As most of you must know by now, this show was recorded before we learned of the sudden, unexpected passing of Justine Covault. What a loss. What an awful loss for our shared pop music community. 

We recorded a brief statement to run at the top of this show, expressing our sorrow and our condolences to Justine's family and friends. We left the show itself intact, to stand as a record of our enthusiasm for the work, and for all that Justine did.

This was supposed to be a celebration. It wound up a sadder celebration than we planned. We will pay tribute to Justine on our next show.

THE ANIMALS: We Gotta Get Out Of This Place

Even before we heard the news about Justine, we knew this week's show would include an element of mourning with the loss of songwriter Cynthia Weil. Weil and her husband and writing partner Barry Mann created so many timeless classic songs. The first Mann-Weil song I owned was a 45 of Eydie Gormé's "Blame It On The Bossa Nova;" sure, I was only three years old when the song was a hit in '63, but I knew it and adored it. I may not have acquired any other Mann-Weil works until the mid '70s, when a flea-market purchase of the Monkees' Headquarters LP added their song "Shades Of Grey" to CC's record library. Many more would follow.

One of my favorites was the Animals' "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place," which I borrowed from my cousin Maryann before a rockin' and rollin' emissary of Santa Claus hisself placed the double-album The Best Of The Animals under the Christmas tree for me in 1976.

THE  MONKEES: Love Is Only Sleeping

I told my story here of the sheer revelation of falling for the Monkees' Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn & Jones Ltd a decade after the fact, when I was a high school senior in 1977. "Blame It On The Bossa Nova," "Shades Of Grey," "We Gotta Get Out Of This Place," and maybe a 45 of "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling' by the Righteous Brothers preceded the entry of Pisces into my collection, but its track "Love Is Only Sleeping" knocked me out to the extent that I finally--FINALLY!--took notice of the songwriting credit. Mann and Weil, huh? Awrighty. The search was on. 

THE FLASHCUBES: Wouldn't You Like It

THE FLASHCUBES WITH RANDY KLAWON: Get The Message

The Flashcubes THEN, and the Flashcubes NOW! Sort of. "Get The Message" will be on the Flashcubes' new album Pop Masters, coming soon from the visionary rockin' pop forces of Big Stir Records. Pop Masters is an all-covers effort, and it will be one of your favorite albums this year. It's already one of mine.

And we figured we'd include "Get The Message" as the back end of a twin spin of the Flashcubes demonstrating their nonpareil prowess as interpretive artists. That one-two punch began with a dynamic Cubic reading of the Bay City Rollers' "Wouldn't You Like It," which the 'Cubes recorded (at our suggestion) for the 1999 Rollers tribute album Men In Plaid. I've always loved the Rollers' version to begin with, and the 'Cubes absolutely nail their rendition of it.

THE NERVES: Hanging On The Telephone

Another passing, as the pop world mourns musician and songwriter Jack Lee. Word of Lee's death reached us as we had just finished recording basic tracks and back announcements for this week's show, but not too late to make any changes we deemed necessary. Saluting Jack Lee was necessary.

Blondie's international hit cover of Lee's song "Hanging On The Telephone" was actually in the playlist already, so Dana suggested adding the song's original version, which Lee recorded with his legendary pop combo the Nerves. We swapped out another track, redid a couple of the back announcements, and paid our own humble tribute to Jack Lee.

THE DRIFTERS: On Broadway

The Greatest Record Ever Made!

BLONDIE: Hanging On The Telephone

Yeah, we kept Blondie's take in as well. I remember that, in college, I knew the song from the Nerves' EP; it's a testimony to how great that EP is that "Hanging On The Telephone" was my third favorite among its four tracks, after two songs written by other members of the Nerves (Peter Case's "When You Find Out" and Paul Collins' "Working Too Hard"), and ahead of Lee's "Give Me Some Time." All four tracks were and remain superb.

But like I said, this was a Nerves song as far as I was concerned. When my pal Jay called to tell me how flat-out jazzed he was with Blondie's then-new Parallel Lines album, his mention of "Hanging On The Telephone" prompted a Wait...WHAT? outta me. Cool moment of connection.

ASTRUD GILBERTO: Where Have You Been?

The late Astrud Gilberto's best-known moment is her vocal turn fronting Stan Getz and company on the massive hit "The Girl From Ipanema." I don't think Ms. Gilberto ever graced any previousTIRnRR playlist, but her recent passing made it seem imperative to at least play the hit.

Upon further review, it felt necessary to go a tiny bit deeper, and include one more Gilberto performance. When news of Gilberto's death broke, our friend and fellow DJ Michael McCartney waxed rhapsodic of his memory of listening to Astrud Gilberto, particularly this track "Where Have You Been?," from her 1972 album Now.

Beautiful and haunting. Beguiling. Irresistible. Outside of our experience and familiarity, but nonetheless undeniable in the moment. There is so much we don't know, so much we haven't heard yet. 

Where have we been? Our trail to this point has been obscured. What next? We'll have to find out, won't we? Godspeed, Astrud. And thank you. Michael.

PAUL REVERE AND THE RAIDERS: Kicks

An anti-drug message was not the hippest stance for a rock 'n' roll single to assume in the '60s. And having that message delivered by a costumed combo known for sashayin' their synchronized steps on various TV shows likely didn't enhance its perceived hipness. 

Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil did not care about any of that.

Their intent was sober and serious, to craft a cautionary tale about the dangers of addiction, and to do so within the catchy parameters of a 45 bound for the pop charts. They pulled it off magnificently, and the mighty Paul Revere and the Raiders did their able part by proving once again that their gaudy Revolutionary War outfits didn't mean they were some sort of freakin' clown act; they were America's answer to the Rolling Stones.

Kicks just keep getting harder to find? On record, man, there are always, always kicks aplenty. Paul Revere and the Raiders were among the many worthy artists that saw to that. Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil were one of the ace songwriting teams that made it happen. Get your kicks. Get your kicks right here.

IN-PERSON EVENT! On June 29, I will be making an in-store appearance at GENERATION RECORDS, 210 Thompson Street in NYC on behalf of my  new book GABBA GABBA HEY! A CONVERSATION WITH THE RAMONES. The book contains my 1994 interviews with Joey, Johnny, Marky, and C.J., which were cited by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as essential reading. I'll be at Generation to chat with fellow Ramones fans, talk about the book, the interviews, and how the music of the Ramones impacted my life. If you are in the New York area on June 29th, I would love to see you at Generation Records. Hey-ho, let's GO!  

If you like what you see here on Boppin' (Like The Hip Folks Do), please consider supporting this blog by becoming a patron on Patreon, or by visiting CC's Tip Jar. Additional products and projects are listed here.

Carl's new book Gabba Gabba Hey! A Conversation With The Ramones is now available, courtesy of the good folks at Rare Bird Books. Gabba Gabba YAY!! https://rarebirdlit.com/gabba-gabba-hey-a-conversation-with-the-ramones-by-carl-cafarelli/

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.

I'm on Twitter @CafarelliCarl

10 SONGS: 11/10/2020

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 # 1050.

THE BEATLES: While My Guitar Gently Weeps

We knew that TIRnRR's all-time # 1 most-played act was The Beatles, and it stood to reason that The Beatles would also be the act that's accumulated TIRnRR airplay with the greatest number of different songs. We were surprised to discover that "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" was not among the 239 different Beatles tracks played on previous shows. "Revolution 9?" Yeah, of course we've already played "Revolution 9." Duh. And we've played The Drowners' peppy cover of "While My Guitar Gently Sleeps" on many occasions. But we never got around to playing the original.

Well. We hadda remedy that. 

THE HOLLIES: King Midas In Reverse

There was a three-year span on TIRnRR where I decided I wanted to pursue some long-form programming gimmick throughout the course of a year. In 2009, we did The 50 KISS Strategy, which was a promise to play 50 different KISS tracks between New Year's Day and New Year's Eve. We dedicated 2011 to 301 Songs About 301 Girls, a very well-received effort to play a whole bunch of songs with girls' names in the title.

In between KISS and the girls, 2010 brought us The Hundred Hollies Initiative. We announced the gimmick with the playlist for our 1/10/2010 show:

Beginning with our spotlight on The Hollies last week, we have made a solemn vow to play 100 different Hollies tracks on TIRnRR before the end of 2010. A daunting task? You betcha! But The Hollies have a lot of terrific tracks to choose from, so we should be equal to the task.  Besides, the price of failure is too terrible to consider: if we fail in our effort to play 100 different Hollies tracks this year, our penance will be to play something so horrible, so SICKENING that it offends the mind, the heart and the soul. I can barely bring myself to type it, but it must be entered into the public record:

If we play less than 100 different Hollies tracks this year, then we've gotta play "Old Time Rock And Roll" by Bob Seger as our punishment. (Y'know, it's difficult to type while holding one's nose.) But don't worry! We won't let you down! We've played 16 Hollies tracks already, so it's only 84 to go. You can count on us! We hope....

Yeah. We made dead certain to play 101 different Hollies tracks. Just to be sure.

And here's to the power of radio. Our friend and listener Rich Firestone credits The Hundred Hollies Initiative with rekindling his own interest in The Hollies. Radio's job is to sell records. We were happy to do our part.

JOE JACKSON: Steppin' Out

I've known my friend Beth Woodell for more than 45 years. I think we met around 1974 or so, though we didn't become pals until 1975-76, her senior year in high school, my junior year. We worked together on the school's literary magazine The NorthCaster, and started hanging out together outside of school as part of a small group of NorthCaster folks. Beth anointed herself our leader, by virtue of being the oldest member of the group, and also Jewish. Awrighty. That was sufficient qualification as far as I could tell.

Beth was (and remains) smart, witty, acerbic, creatively ambitious, and generally a hoot. We got on swell, but we did not share common ground in our musical tastes. Beth was a bit more refined in her preferred soundtrack, with an interest in jazz and classical that contrasted sharply with my eight-track mind. 

She did also love pop music. Just about any kid who grew up in 1970s America had at least some lingering attachment to the sound of Top 40 AM radio. And, oddly enough, I think her own passion for pop intensified with post-punk New Wave. I like to think I played some small part in the expansion of Beth's pop vistas, though it's just as likely the broadening would have occurred anyway.

By whatever means she got there, Beth eventually became a big fan of Joe Jackson. It's not really much of a leap from Renaissance to "Is She Really Going Out With Him?," and Beth embraced Jackson's music with passion and enthusiasm.

And Beth is why Joe Jackson made our countdown of the 50 acts who've accrued TIRnRR airplay with the greatest number of different songs. She's guest-hosted the show several times, and she programmed a fistful o' Jackson on each gig. It's fitting that she had that effect on our stats. After all, she is the leader of the group.

THE KINKS: Waterloo Sunset

"Waterloo Sunset" is one of two songs by The Kinks given its own chapter in my book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1), where it immediately precedes The Kinks' "You Really Got Me" and Holly Golightly's version of "Time Will Tell" (itself also a song written by The Kinks' Ray Davies). This is how the book's discussion of "Waterloo Sunset" begins:

It's one of the most beautiful depictions of burgeoning romance ever committed to song. And it's told, not from the perspective of the young lovers themselves, but from the viewpoint of a benevolent onlooker, wishing them well as they cross over the river, where they feel safe and sound.

I wonder what that onlooker would have thought of me when I was 18....

Our connection with the pop music we love is personal, deeply personal. We know that the songs on our stereo, our radio, our iPod, or our Close-N-Play aren't really about us, but we have license to incorporate them into our own experiences. We assign meaning. While The Kinks insisted elsewhere that it was only jukebox music, it is really so much more than that.

In the book, I place "Waterloo Sunset" directly after chapters about T. Rex, The Runaways, and "Sister Golden Hair" by America, a little trilogy threaded together with the memory of my near-disastrous freshman year in college, 1977-78. "Waterloo Sunset" follows with the potential for catharsis. Every day I look at the world from my window...Waterloo sunset's fine.

It's not the story Ray Davies intended to tell. It's the story I hear nonetheless.

THE LOLAS: Yer Gonna Need My Lovin' Someday

The Lolas' 1999 Ballerina Breakout album was an instant TIRnRR Fave Rave in our first year on the air. I don't know if we'd even heard their music before spinning either "The Best Part" or "Yer Gonna Need My Lovin' Someday" on the show, but we were most definitely hooked from the get-go. Tim Boykin's lead vocals reminded me of a more American-sounding John Wicks of The Records, and we went on to play a ton of Lolas tracks over the years. 

EYTAN MIRSKY: This Year's Gonna Be Our Year

#standdowndonald Then we can start building a better year, leaving the debris of this one behind.

PAUL REVERE AND THE RAIDERS: Him Or Me--What's It Gonna Be?

Paul Revere and the Raiders don't get anywhere near the level of respect and appreciation their rock-solid body of work merits. I put together a hypothetical 30-track Best Of Paul Revere and the Raiders collection, and I tell ya, that can stand against invaders and minutemen alike. "Just Like Me" is the Raiders track I chose for the GREM! book, but it just as easily could have been "Him Or Me--What's It Gonna Be?"

Now, we're savvy enough to know that "bubblegum" shouldn't necessarily be a pejorative. But the music of Paul Revere & the Raiders transcends that discussion anyway. For all their good-time vibe, their Revolutionary War costumes, their synchronized stage moves, their snappy patter, their TV stardom, and Mark Lindsay as the face that launched a thousand 16 magazine pin-ups, the Raiders made rock 'n' roll records. In fact, they made great rock 'n' roll records, releasing a string of nonpareil singles and fab LP tracks that can stand and sway alongside some of the best rock 'n' roll music of the 1960s. In the wake of the British Invasion in 1964, there was no shortage of domestic acts seeking to become known as the American Beatles; Paul Revere & the Raiders, already veteran hands at rockin' instrumentals and nascent frat-rock, were the first high-profile US act to seek the title of American Stones.

If Paul Revere & the Raiders were bubblegum, then by God, so were The Rolling Stones...

...Paul Revere & the Raiders were disdained by the hipper-than-thou. Their image, their approach, their name itself proclaimed them as uncool, square, and (ironically) anti-Revolutionary. In 1969, wondering if perhaps a rockin' Raiders record could connect with the progressive crowd if unencumbered by the Raiders brand name, Lindsay sent a new Raiders song called "Let Me" to an influential FM DJ in L.A.; the song was credited to The Pink Puzz, and the DJ loved it and played it until he learned that The Pink Puzz was really those crass, commercial sellouts Paul Revere & the Raiders. Suddenly, he didn't like the track anymore, and he stopped playing it. He was, let's face it, a weasel. 

But the weasels were in control. That hasn't really changed since then.

THE RUBINOOS: I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

From The Rubinoos' chapter in The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1):

"I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend" cops its chanted HEY HEY YOU YOU! hook from "Get Off Of My Cloud" by The Rolling Stones, but reshapes it into something newer and more fully pop (as opposed to "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne, which merely imitates The Rubinoos without adding anything of note). Its guitars chime and its acolytes swoon, as if David Cassidy joined The Raspberries, or Dee Dee Ramone joined The Bay City Rollers. Gonna make you love me, yeah/I'm gonna make you love me, yeah/I'm gonna make you love me 'fore I'm done. 

This is desire rendered as pristine, as likely to be content holding hands and staring at the stars as it is eager to move to the back seat. It is lust and naiveté, passion that could be reckless or prudent, hormonal or mannered, one night right now, all nights and days forevermore. It is caution discarded, inner voice heeded, more marks scratched in the permanent record, in ink or that damned # 2 pencil. It is the teen years at 45 revelations per minute. Its swoon is everlasting, like the love that pop songs promised us.

THE SPONGETONES: (My Girl) Maryanne

From The Spongetones' chapter in The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1):

"(My Girl) Maryanne" is a Steve Stoeckel composition from the group's 1984 EP Torn Apart. Its matrix was crafted in Liverpool, a root design shared by The Knickerbockers, Utopia, and all things Fab, assembled with justifiable pride in the U.S.A. The influence is evident and eager, yet more than mere imitation, in the same sense that The Beatles' "Thank You, Girl" was more than a mere imitation of The Isley Brothers. It's something new. 

And it's irresistible. The guitars combust, the harmonies sail, the beat and the music surge, and the singer expresses his own giddy delight in the rat-a-tat sound of his chatty lover's extended soliloquy. Pop songs that complain about a woman who talks too much are a dime a dozen; in "(My Girl) Maryanne," Maryanne has a lot to say, and not enough minutes in the day. Our hero hangs on each syllable, reveling in the reward of how every word makes him love her more. YES! The word is love. And that love is as pure as the pop music we adore. Keep talking, Maryanne.

CARRIE UNDERWOOD: Some Hearts

Some hearts just get lucky sometimes.

I have tussled with occasional depression for most of my life. My situation is not unique, and I don't mean to make more of that than it is. I'm aware of the good things, and I cherish them. Music. Books. Friends. Family. Superheroes. Coca-Cola. 

And my daughter Meghan. 

We don't agree on music. We do agree that we both love music. When she was younger, she adored the songs she heard on Radio Disney, and she still listens to Sirius Radio's Pop 2K station, the partial soundtrack of her childhood. She also likes the metal on the Octane channel. She has, I think, moved past much of her interest in contemporary country music, though that's largely a byproduct of a male-dominated Bro Country pop scene that leaves her cold. Like her Dad, she digs what she digs. Halestorm. Kelly Clarkson. Five Finger Death Punch. Reba McEntire. Linkin Park. Lindsey Sterling. Sugarland. When Meghan gets married, she and I have an informal agreement that Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" will be the designated song for our father-daughter dance. We don't give a damn about our bad reputation.

Meghan has co-hosted TIRnRR many times, and she has played a bunch of Carrie Underwood songs over the course of those appearances. I think Carrie Underwood was the star of Meghan's third live concert experience, following a Radio Disney shindig (with The A*Teens, The Baha Men, Play, and LMNT) and an American Idol show in 2007. Her Mom treated her to a mother-daughter night out at the Onondaga County War Memorial, the same venue where I had seen KISS, Bob Dylan, and the Syracuse Blazers hockey team in the '70s. In 2013, it would also be the site where U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor delivered the commencement address for Meghan's high school graduation. In between those gigs, Meghan and my lovely wife Brenda were at the War Memorial to see Carrie Underwood, with the then-unknown Little Big Town opening. And Meghan's eyes, ears, and mind grew wide with the possibility of pop.

I don't think Meghan had much specific interest in Underwood before that concert. Underwood had won American Idol the year before we started watching the show as a family. After the concert, though, Meghan's Carriemania manifested instantly. She eventually got all of Underwood's albums, and I'm sure she remains a fan now.

"Some Hearts" is a song written by Diane Warren, a lovely confection originally recorded by the great Marshall Crenshaw for his 1989 album Good Evening. Most Crenshaw fans don't consider it one of his biggest numbers, but I've loved it since seeing him perform it on Late Night With David Letterman. Uncool? I don't give a damn about my reputation.

Underwood's version of "Some Hearts" appeared on her 2005 debut album Some Hearts. She does really well with the song, retaining the affection and gratitude expressed in Crenshaw's original while adding her own effervescence. The production is glossy, but agreeably so. It sounds like a hit record, in the best sense of that description.

I like it more than Meghan does. She's been more likely to play "Before He Cheats" or any of a bunch of other Carrie Underwood selections. But Meghan was pleased to learn that her own devotion to Carrie Underwood propelled the singer into the list of the 50 acts who've had the highest number of different songs played on TIRnRR. And she knew, of course, that I would play "Some Hearts" to represent Underwood in our countdown.

I'm not sure, but I think the last time I played "Some Hearts" on TIRnRR was in August of 2013, when Meghan co-hosted with me right before she began her freshman year in college. It was an emotional evening, and we both wound up sobbing a little on-air. And rather than play our usual show intro of The Ramones' "Do You Remember Rock 'n' Roll Radio?," I created an edit combining the Marshall Crenshaw and Carrie Underwood recordings of "Some Hearts" and surprised Meghan with it. It was quite a show.

Some hearts just get lucky sometimes. We can't plan our luck. We can't depend on it, we can't hold it, we can't carry it or brandish it. Sometimes it fails us. 

Sometimes it doesn't. 

Here's to all the hearts that get lucky. Here's to the hope that luck will touch more hearts still. Turn up the radio. We'll share the luck together. 

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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 165 essays about 165 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).