Oh, the engineer would see him sittin' in the shade, strummin' with the rhythm that the drivers made, the people passing by they would stop and say...I'm (twelve days--bollocks!) late again....
My introduction to this week's tune came from my father, who was a big fan of this week's artist and of this week's song. An assist can go to the Faces, whose greatest hits album (that I picked up at the thrift shop where I worked for--you guessed it!--a dollar) featured a killer version of it that was in the form of a jam session and reminded me just how good the song was....
I wrote about Chuck Berry in Vol. CCLXXIV (and how the fuck did I manage to wait 274 posts before featuring a tune of his?), and in looking back on my bio paragraph, it was pretty damn good (if I do say so myself...). And as Berry is still doing the duck walk at the Great Rock and Roll Concert in the Sky, I'm going to leave it at that....
"Memphis, Tennessee" was released as a single only in 1959. For some odd ass reason, it was not released here in the States (big mistake, huge!) but was released in the U.K. where it reached #6 (so many cool kids in the U.K.!). Never fear--Berry collected oodles of cash in the U.S. from two cover versions, an instrumental by Lonnie Mack that hit #5 in 1963, and a release in 1964 by Johnny Rivers which peaked at #2.
Fun Fact: The Beatles (he puts a link for the three people in the world who haven't heard of the Beatles...) recorded five versions of "Memphis, Tennessee." Interestingly enough, the first time they performed it was for an audition at Decca Records on January 1, 1962...an audition which they failed. How'd you like to have that on your resume--"Turned down the Beatles and cost Decca Records literally billions". Not gonna open a lot of doors, I'd guess....
Chuck Berry pretty much did it all on this single--he wrote it, sang it, and played all of the instruments (electric guitar and electric bass as well as the guitar overdubs) except the drums. While listening to it as I did my half-assed research, I was really struck by how much the song is driven by Berry's electric guitar--his picking just illuminates every verse. In an oddity, the song doesn't have a chorus--it's the story of a man trying to get a telephone operator (ask your grandparents, kids) to help him get in touch with his Marie. There's a very sweet twist (of the O. Henry variety) at the end which I won't spoil. Berry's vocals capture all the love and heartache he feels for Marie who might as well be a million miles away in Memphis, Tennessee. Though it's a relatively simple song from a long time ago, the song was very much ahead of its time both lyrically and vocally and was much of an influence on songwriters who like to spin a story in their songs. In a nutshell, a great song from a great artist making the most of his great talents.
Lyric Sheet: "Long distance information give me Memphis, Tennessee/Help me find the party trying to get in touch with me/She could not leave her number but I know who placed the call/Because my uncle took the message and he wrote it on the wall..."
I started a joke, which started the whole word crying, but I didn't see, that...I was (twelve days--blimey!) late again....
Amazingly enough, my introduction to this week's tune had nothing to do with finding a CD of their greatest hits for a dollar at our local library book sale. Rather, I started getting into the band during the mid-seventies (before their disco explosion) and looked everywhere for a good greatest hits package--which didn't exist. So, I picked at a copy of a live album of theirs (which I am usually loathe to do because live recordings are great in person, not so much on a recording), Here at last...Bee Gees...Live, where I discovered our featured song and fell almost instantly in love with it.
I wrote about the Bee Gees in Vol. CCCXV, and it summed up their rather lengthy and successful career about the best one can in a single paragraph. In the years since, Barry Gibb, the sole surviving brother, has released an album, and there is supposed to be a biopic of the brothers Gibb in the works.
"New York Mining Disaster 1941" was the first international single the Bee Gees ever released (they released a single in Australia prior), from their 1967 album, the rather aptly entitled Bee Gees 1st. The single would reach #14 (with a bullet!) in America but was not released as a single in the U.K. to increase LP sales. The album hit #7 in America and #8 in Great Britain...which calls into question just how great their U.K. plan was....
Fun Fact: "New York Mining Disaster 1941" was actually inspired by the Aberfan disaster in Wales in 1966 (and it was quite the disaster). Robin Gibb thought New York sounded more glamorous, so they went with it instead of Wales.
"New York Mining Disaster 1941" spins the rather sad tale of a man trapped after a mine has collapsed who is trying to show another man (the rather ubiquitous Mr. Jones) a picture of his wife and who, with each passing moment, realizes that he is never going to see her again. Barry and Robin wrote this song when they were in their early twenties, and the lyrics show a maturity and gift for perception that would suit them well throughout their career. While Maurice Gibb is content to show off his guitar playing skills (trying to get a Wikipedia link for all three because I didn't in the original post....), the other brothers play off each other vocally with all the pathos they can muster. In the end, it's a nice piece of sixties folk pop--and was certainly a harbinger for the musical success the brothers would enjoy for the next forty years....
Lyric Sheet: "I keep straining my ears to hear a sound/Maybe someone is digging underground/Or have they given up and all gone home to bed/Thinking those who once existed must be dead..."
Only you can make all this change in me, for it's true you are my destiny, when you hold my hand, I understand...that I'm (ten days--zounds!) late again....
In what will come as quite a shock to my loyal readers (all three of them), my introduction to this week's tune was...a greatest hits package that I picked up for a dollar at our local library sale. The one oddity, though, is for a band for which I knew many of their biggest songs I had never heard this week's tune (to the best of my ever-diminishing recollection) before. As the saying goes, better late than never....
The Platters formed in 1952 in Los Angeles, and after a slow start had a string of hits over the next sixteen years that would immortalize them. Unlike last week's band (the Drifters), the Platters were very shrewd about their musical career, and in 1956 they incorporated giving each band member a twenty percent stake in their fortunes. Like so many do wop groups of their era, the Platters have had numerous incarnations, with at the very, very least twenty-four people having been in the band at one time or another (and about a gazillion lawsuits over who owned what from all the personnel changes). Unlike many groups of their era, though, they have always had one woman in the band making for some coed harmonies. The Platters have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, as well as the Vocal Group Hall of Fame. For their career (near as I can tell--their discography is kind of all over the place), they released twenty-four studio albums, well over one hundred (!) compilations, and fifty-four singles (with four number ones and thirty-four more charting on the Billboard Hot 100). While all of the original members are performing at The Great Doo Wop Concert in the Sky, if you'd like to catch them live they'll be playing next month through December in various cities and venues....
"Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" was released in 1958 (at least the Platters version--it's been covered by numerous different artists) on their rather forgetfully entitled album Remember When? The single would reach #1 (with a bullet!) here in America as well as in the U.K. and Canada (so many cool kids in the British Empire!). I have no idea where the album charted as no one seems to think their album history all that important (though Wikipedia did note they were the first rock and roll band to have a top ten album...without noting which fucking album it was).
Fun Fact: "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" was originally written by Jerome Kern (music) and Otto Harbach (lyrics) in 1933 for the musical Roberta. Kern's widow hated the Platters version so much she sued to stop its distribution...until she was informed how much sweet, sweet cash she stood to make from a number one record--at which time she dropped the lawsuit. Money talks and bullshit walks, as the saying goes....
Since time immemorial, folks have been writing about the heartache of losing a lover, and "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" is one more brilliant addition to that ever-expanding list. The Platters weave the tale of a young man very much in love who's being warned by his friends that he's going to get his heart broken, though he's telling his friends that's just so much bullshit...until she breaks his heart and he realizes that he did indeed let smoke get in his eyes from the flames of love. Tony Williams delivers a stunning vocal that captures the exuberance and ultimately the searing pain of love, surrounded by a light melody, some strings, and some wonderful harmonies from the rest of the band. It's an absolute gem from an era that is all too quickly being forgotten...except by emaycee and his Friday Night Jukebox (see also, "just so much bullshit" from above)....
Lyric Sheet: "Now laughing friends deride/Tears I cannot hide, hide/So I smile and say, when a lovely flame dies/Smoke gets in your eyes..."
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea, on a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be...(two weeks, FFS!) late again....
My introduction to this week's tune was actually a cover version from 1978 by jazz guitar virtuoso George Benson. Benson's funky ass version would win him a well-deserved Grammy and actually chart higher than this week's band's version. Over time I became familiar with this week's version and decided to go with the original as my featured post. In what will come as a great shock to my loyal readers (all three of them), I was further entranced by the latter version when I picked up a copy of the band's greatest hits at our local library sale....
The Drifters have almost as many incarnations as God but can basically be broken down into the Clyde McPhatter version (50's), the Ben E. King version (late 50's, early 60's). and the New Drifters (ever since). Over sixty different artists have performed as part of the Drifters. As one might suppose with so many different artists there have been nearly as many lawsuits over who owns what as there are people here in Detroit. The band has a somewhat sad legacy--they were often managed by less than honest people and were one of the worst paid bands ever. Clyde McPhatter had an especially sad life, harboring much bitterness over his treatment which led to alcoholism and an early death at the age of forty. On a happier note, the Drifters have been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, with selected members from all three versions. For their (sort of) career, the Drifters released ten albums (only two of which charted), nine compilations, and seventy-one singles (with one #1 and three more top ten). The Drifters are still technically performing, though none of the original members are anywhere near planet Earth anymore.
"On Broadway" was recorded by the New Drifters version of the Drifters and was released in 1963 on their rather seasidely entitled Under the Boardwalk. The song would reach #9 on the Billboard Hot 100, while the album was the highest charting of their career and peaked at #40.
Fun Fact: Not that anyone but me gives a shit, but "On Broadway" is the only song I can play on guitar both by note and by chords. Well, golly gee whillikers....
Written by the legendary songwriting duo of Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller, "On Broadway" spins the tale of a young man with a guitar and a lot of dreams waking up to the fact that the road to stardom isn't all it's cracked up to be. Led by a plaintive lead vocal by Rudy Lewis (who would tragically die less than a year later from a drug overdose), the song features a touch of strings, a touch of trumpets, and a slithering guitar solo from a very young Phil Spector. The rest of the Drifters give a master lesson in the rhythm of harmonies with their chanting of 'on Broadway" throughout the song. In the end, the man with the guitar and the dreams is unwavering that he'll be a star--and that's enough to be another star in the Friday Night Jukebox galaxy....
Lyric Sheet: "But, oh, they're dead wrong, I know they are/'Cause I can play this here guitar/And I won't quit 'til I'm a star on Broadway (on Broadway)..."
I'll be yours through endless time, I'll adore your charms sublime, guess by now you know that I'm...(twelve days--yowza!) late again....
My introduction to this week's tune originally came in the form of a cover version by Simon and Garfunkel on their Bridge over Troubled Water(which, truth be told, I only have the vaguest of memories of) album. I've heard the original many times through my many years, but it really hit me how good it was when--surprise, surprise!--I found a greatest hits CD of this week's artist at our local library sale and had a chance to listen to them for weeks on end. Where oh where would Friday Night Jukebox be without our local library sale?
I wrote about the Everly Brothers in Vol. CDXCIX, and as they have both been performing at the Great Rock and Roll Concert in the Sky for many years now, and had won or been honored with just about every award or induction possible, I'll just leave the original bio as is.
"Bye Bye Love" was the first single ever released by the Everly Brothers, and was featured on their 1957 debut album, the ever so artfully named The Everly Brothers. The single would reach #2 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100, #1 on the country singles chart, and #5 on the R & B singles chart. The album peaked at #16. The song is also ranked at #210 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.
Fun Fact #1: Though I made my usual rather lamely sarcastic comment above about the album's title, it should be noted that the album is sometimes called They're Off and Rolling or They're Off and Rolling, Says Archie because of the blurb on the album's cover.
Fun Fact #2: "Bye Bye Love" was written by Felice and Boudleaux Bryant, a husband-and-wife songwriting duo. A check of our records shows that this is the first time that someone named either Felice or Boudleaux has appeared in a Friday Night Jukebox post. For the record, let it be known that Boudleaux is actually the gentleman's middle name--his first name is Diadorius, which surprisingly enough would also have been the first time that name has been seen here on FNJ.
"Bye Bye Love" was rejected by over thirty artists before the Everly Brothers agreed to record it--that's thirty rather large fuck-ups. Opening with a nifty acoustic guitar part (that was not originally in the song, Don Everly added it), the song starts right in on the chorus, and over the course of the next two minutes and twenty-six seconds gives us a master course in just about every attribute a pop song can have. Wondrous harmonies, wondrously played instruments, wondrous vocal solos, wondrous lyrics, a wondrous chorus, and a wondrous theme. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the two second guitar burst after each time the words "bye bye love" are sang--my favorite part of the song where I always flic my wrist up and down like the guitar virtuoso I am (not). Just an absolutely magnificent pop song, one that sounds every bit as good and relevant today as it did in 1957.
Lyric Sheet: "I'm through with romance, I'm through with love/I'm through with counting the stars above/And here's the reason that I'm so free/ My lovin' baby is through with me..."
[Once again, it's only a Friday post because I'm a week late, gosh darnit!]
Just the two of us, we can make it if we try, just the two of us, you and...I'm late again....
Once again this week, my introduction to our song of the week was primarily just from hearing it on the radio when I was still a young man. I did write a post upon this week's artists death in 2020 in which I delved into how I became a fan of his for any of my three fans that might be interested....
I wrote about the great Bill Withers in Vol. CXVII, and as he more or less retired in the mid-eighties and died in 2020, there really isn't much to add to that post's bio paragraph. However, it was written before I began featuring the weekly artists' discography, and Mr. Withers' can be found here.
"Ain't No Sunshine" was the second single released from Withers' 1971 debut album, the rather proudly entitled Just as I Am. The song reached #3 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100, while the album reached #39 on the Billboard 200. Additionally, the song was ranked #285 on Rolling Stone's list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, and the album was #304 on their list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.
Fun Fact: When Withers repeats "I know" twenty-six times in the song, it was originally intended to just be filler until he could write another verse. But the session musicians he worked with said it was good as is, and being a newbie, Withers took their word for it. Turned out to be great advice as it's one of pop music's most memorable moments in song.
I've written a time or two (or three or four) how amazing it can how much a music artist can say in so little time, and Bill Withers validates that once again by giving us two minutes and six seconds of astonishing and soulful rhythm and blues. Withers said the song was inspired by the movie Days of Wine and Roses(a very good movie about a married pair of alcoholics and the pain they cause themselves and those around them), and how much we can love people that are bad for us. The music is perfectly understated, led by drums and a bass guitar that are as foreboding as the song itself. A lightly strummed acoustic guitar and some haunting strings carry the weight of the song's sorrow. But in the end, it's Withers vocals that take the song from good to great. Singing from the pit of his heart, Withers captures all the love and the doubt of a man far too over his head in love. A stunning and spectacular achievement from a gifted man and his supporting musicians.
Lyric Sheet: "Wonder this time where she's gone/Wonder if she's gonna stay/Ain't no sunshine when she's gone/And this house just ain't no home/Anytime she goes away..."
Talking about someone said, someone said something about, something else someone might have said about...me being (two weeks--egads!) late again....
Alas, my introduction to this week's tune is little more than having heard it on various formats through the years. I will admit that--surprise, surprise--picking up this week's artist's greatest hits at our local book sale for a dollar a few years back and listening to it numerous times driving to and from work did make me realize how wonderful of a song it is though....
Prior to my half-assed research, I had thought that the heyday of Carly Simon pretty much ended with the seventies...and boy, was I ever wrong. While she may not have had quite the commercial success of her early career, she had hits into the eighties and nineties, and her critical success remained solid throughout (this could be because her music never sold that well during my time with Camelot Music, which may be a reflection that St. Louis just wasn't a good market for her talent, as I witnessed with numerous artists both selling and not selling during my eighteen years there). Simon's history is a bit much for a single paragraph, but to hit some of the highlights of her sixty-three-year career, Simon has twenty-four singles that have reached the Billboard Hot 100, worked on numerous soundtracks, won two Grammy Awards (with fourteen nominations), won an Academy Award for best song, and has been inducted into both the Songwriting Hall of Fame and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She's also written five children's books and two memoirs. For her career, Simon has released twenty-four albums (with one number one and two more top ten), two live albums, ten compilations, and fifty singles (with also one number one but four more top ten). Showing no signs of letting up even at age eighty-three, Simon released her latest single this past June and an album just last month--and it was all new music, to boot.
"That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be" (far too lazy to search through over six hundred posts but may be the longest non-parenthetical song ever on Friday Night Jukebox) was the first single Simon ever released as a solo artist, and was from her 1971 debut album, the rather eponymically named Carly Simon. The single peaked at #10 (with a bullet!), while the album reached #30.
It was a week (or two) of learning whilst doing my half-assed research. I'd always thought "That's the Way I've Always Heard It Should Be" was a sweet ballad about a woman wanting to settle down with her man, but Mr. Never Heard A Set Of Lyrics He Couldn't Fuck Up completely missed the gist of this one--the protagonist is actually having all kinds of doubts about settling down and marrying. And somehow, this only made the song even greater. The lyrics (written by Jacob Brackman) are nothing short of astonishing--a subtle peak into the sorrow and nonchalant lives of the not so happily married. Simon's composing is stellar--the soft melancholy of the verses builds into the roaring and ever so catchy chorus (and listen carefully for the drum burst right before the chorus which foreshadows the change in the musical tone). But Simon's vocals are the piece de resistance--capturing all the highs and lows of the protagonist's ambivalence yet eventual capitulation. A real gem from the era of confessional singer/songwriters, and a highly underrated gem as well.
Lyric Sheet: "You say that we can keep our love alive/Babe, all I know is what I see/The couples cling and claw/And drown in love's debris..."
[Blogger's note: Once again, we have a Friday Night Jukebox post on an actual Friday...but only because I'm a week late. On the bright side, we have back-to-back days of FNJ posts, which should bring plenty of joy to my loyal readers (all three of them)....]
I was dreamin' when I wrote this, forgive me if it goes astray, but when I woke up this morning, could have sworn...I was (lucky seven? days) late again....
Surprisingly enough, my introduction to this week's tune, as with my introduction to the previous tune of his I wrote about, came when the soundtrack to the film that drove his stardom into the stratosphere was released. I will say, though, the first time I heard this week's song was one of the few times when I thought "This is destined for greatness" (or some such phrasing) and was actually correct....
I wrote about Prince in Vol. DLXI (and in a bit of kismet, last week as well), and the only new news in the last year and a half is that his estate is releasing another compilation, on of all days, today (kismet strikes yet again). Pretty certain it will not be the last. On a side note, it is very hard to believe that it has been ten years since his death, though at my age and with my gained knowledge of the passing of time, it probably shouldn't be.
"Purple Rain" was the third single released from his 1984 masterpiece, the rather floridly entitled Purple Rain(for those playing at home, I figured some synonym of cleverly which I usually use for songs and albums with the same name just would not fly for Prince, and yes, I did have to look up floridly as a synonym for purple). The single would reach #2, being kept from the top spot by Wham!'s "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" (gag me with a motherfucking spoon). The album reached number one. Rolling Stone ranked the song #18 on its list of the "500 Greatest Songs of All Time" while the album is ranked #8 on its list of the "500 Greatest Albums of All Time." That's some serious greatness....
Fun Fact: "Purple Rain" was originally written to be a country duet with Stevie Nicks. Prince sent her a ten-minute instrumental and asked her to write lyrics for it. Nicks felt overwhelmed and turned him down. Such is destiny!
While I was doing my half-assed research for "Purple Rain," I came across a quote where someone said that it could be the greatest song ever written. And instead of wrinkling my nose and thinking, "Are you fucking serious?' I thought, "It very well could be." And I literally thought of writing that and leaving it at that. Alas, I listened and listened and came across a couple of aspects that I'd like to highlight. One is the majesty of the song--if he'd mentioned God a few times this could have been a hymn sang in any number of churches. Second, the song really highlights what an incredible guitarist Prince was--the work is at once stunning and revolutionary (play on words there...). Finally, roughly five minutes in, when Prince begins his otherworldly ooooooh oooh ooohing, I literally get chills and almost choke up--he reaches that place that fills all the holes in your soul. Amazing. Superlative. Incredible. An eight-minute lesson in all that's good in the greatest of the great in popular music.
Lyric Sheet: "If you know what I'm singin' about up here/Come on, raise your hand..."
Pretty woman, don't walk on by, Pretty woman, don't make me cry, Pretty woman...I'm (fourteen days-- mercy!) late again....
My introduction to this week's tune came the first week of 1984 when this week's band released a new album and made it the first single from said album. At the time, releasing an album so close to the end of the holidays was unheard of--most bands waited until spring when folks had money again. It was actually quite a shrewd move by the band--they had the charts to themselves for two months and sold a ton of records. Didn't hurt that the LP is considered a classic by any number of people....
Prior to my half-assed research, my knowledge of Van Halen would have encompassed not much more than the basics: the band members, the names of their albums, the names of their hits, and that they were a very commercially successful group. In other words, this isn't going to be a fanboy bio, though I have to admit (as often happens) after reading their Wikipedia bio I came away with a lot more respect for the band and its output (even if I won't spend a lot of time listening to it), The original lineup featured lead guitarist (widely considered one of the true great guitarists) Eddie Van Halen, his brother and co-founder Alex (on drums--also considered one of the percussion greats), lead vocalist David Lee Roth, and bassist Michael Anthony. This lineup would last from their inception until the mid 80's when Roth left to pursue a solo career. Sammy Hagar would take his spot for the next ten years with considerable success, before going back to his solo career. Gary Cherone would join them for a single album (not so successful), and over the course of the next twenty-five years (give or take) would alternate touring and albums with Roth or Hagar (Eddie's son Wolfgang would replace Anthony on bass for the final thirteen years). Over the course of their forty-eight years, Van Halen would sell over eighty million albums, have countless world tours, have a ton of infighting (in all formations), and in 2007 were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. For their career, the band released twelve studio albums (with four #1's and five more top five), five live albums, four compilations (with one also hitting #1), and fifty-six singles (with one #1 and two more top five). Sadly, Eddie passed away in 2020 after a long battle with cancer, and Van Halen called it a career.
"Jump" was the first single from their 1984 LP, the rather numerically entitled 1984. The song would become the only #1 (with a bullet!) single of their career, while the album would peak at #2. The single was ranked #177 on Rolling Stone's2021 list of the "500 Greatest Songs of All Time." The album would eventually sell over ten million copies, becoming the second album of their career to sell over ten million.
Fun Fact: The band wasn't overly fond of "Jump" when Eddie first played it for them, due mostly to the fact that the guitar wizard was playing a synthesizer. Eddie's response? He told them, "...if I want to play a tuba or a Bavarian cheese whistle, I will do it." Not sure if a Bavarian cheese whistle exists, but that is a classic retort....
While David Lee Roth got the original lyric ("Go ahead and jump") from watching coverage of a man threatening suicide by jumping from a building (Roth wondered if people were thinking/yelling that), the song is actually about taking a chance on romance which is a lot more in line with the music Eddie Van Halen created. The synthesizer sparkles with hope from the beginning, which sets the tone for the blossoming flirtation. Eddie has a solid guitar solo song in the middle, Alex's drums power the song throughout, and Roth's vocals are one part hopeful romantic and one part mischievous imp. The band's backing vocals, which pretty much amounts to them screaming "Jump!" after Roth sings it in the chorus is just the icing on the cake. Van Halen was known for being a hard rock band, but they stepped out of their comfort zone and created a pop classic. Tip of the cap!
Lyric Sheet: "Oh, can't you see me standing here?/I got my back against the record machine/I ain't the worst that you've seen..."
I took my time, 'cause I felt so all alone, not far away, I heard a funny sound, took a look around, and...I'm (only six days?) late again....
Back in the day, when I became enamored of an artist (this would include writers as well as actors), I would want to read, watch, and listen to as much of their past (and sometimes their future, relative to its release date) works as I could. Sometimes this worked well (say, Bruce Springsteen), and sometimes not so well (the German novelist Hermann Hesse, who I took a chance on because of great reviews from Kurt Vonnegut, and then decided after reading two of his books that he was not for me and have had about nine of his novels sitting on my bookshelves for close to fifty years that will never be read). All of which is a (really) roundabout way of saying my introduction to this week's tune came because I very much enjoyed this week's artist's album The Stranger , and after reading a number of good reviews about his second album, took a chance...and the rest, as they say, is history....
I wrote about William Martin Joel in Vol. CDLXXIV, and over the course of the last two years the only real news was that Joel was diagnosed with normal pressure hydrocephalus in 2025 which caused him to cancel all of his upcoming shows. Joel has since stated that the condition is treatable, he has been getting better and hopes to return to performing. Here's hoping the best for him!
"Piano Man" was the first single from Joel's 1973 album, the rather deftly entitled, Piano Man. The song would be the first hit of his career, peaking at #25 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100. The album would also prove to be hit, reaching #27 on the Billboard 200.
Fun Fact: Due to contractual problems, Joel moved to Los Angeles in the early seventies and performed under a pseudonym at a small club while the contract issues were being resolved. Under the name Bill Martin, Joel would play for three years, during which time he says he met or knew all of the people mentioned in this week's tune. Any gig that leads to a hit song is one hell of a gig....
There are songs that are fun, songs that speak to the human condition, songs with a historical resonance, and there are slice of life songs (among numerous other types), and "Piano Man" is a very fine example of the latter. Joel spins the tale of a piano player in a bar taking stock of not only the lives of those around him, but his life as well. There's a certain pathos to the song--most of the characters in the song (unlike Joel) will not live out their dreams. Still, there's also a bit of hope--though they may not live out their dreams, there's a chance that their lives will still be well worth having lived. Joel's piano playing is wondrous, there's a heavy helping of harmonica (emaycee fave!) that along with the la la la di di da da dums give the song the feel of a lullabye, which might just get these folks through theit loneliness. In the end, Joels provides the background music to their disappointments, which is a hell of a tribute to the hopes and dreams of us all.
Lyric Sheet: "There's an old man sittin' next to me/Makin' love to his tonic and gin/He says 'Son, can you play me a memory?/I'm not really sure how it goes/But it's sad, and it's sweet, and I knew it complete/When I wore a younger man's clothes'..."
Five foot two, eyes of blue, cootchie-cootchie-cootchie coo, has anybody seen...that I'm (eleven days--criminy!) late again....
With this having been a big hit in the sixties, I was familiar with it just from having listened to rock and roll for so many years. However, I really became familiar with it a couple of years back when I found a Del Shannon greatest hits CD for a dollar at--you guessed it!--our local library used book sale. I played that CD for months on end, as it was chock full of good sixties pop. And I learned a bit about a rock and roll icon who is oftentimes too easily forgotten....
I wrote about Del Shannon in Vol. CDLXXVIII, and since his Wikipedia entry has zero new information concerning the man or his career, I'll just let that original bio stand as my tribute to him.
"Runaway" was the first single Shannon ever released from his 1961debut album, the rather invitingly entitled Runaway with Del Shannon. The single would be far and away the most successful of his career, reaching #1 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100 and staying there for four weeks (as well as topping the charts in five other countries). The album, as was often the case back in the day, did not chart. Rolling Stone ranked the song #472 on its 2010 list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All-Time.
Fun Fact: Shannon re-recorded (with changed lyrics as well) "Runaway" in 1986 for use as the theme song in the television series Crime Story.As the show was set in the early 1960s, one supposes it was a hell of a good choice....
It would be hard to overstate just how far ahead of its time "Runaway" was--and may also help to explain Shannon's lack of another great musical success in his career (not easy to duplicate greatness personified). First, the synthesizer, played by Max Crook (who co-wrote the song with Shannon), was done on a Musitron which he just so happened to invent himself. You can hear the beginnings of rock and roll's future as it screeches its way through the song. Secondly, Shannon's vocals run the gamut from the grim reality of his rock and roll voice to the sorrow of his falsetto in the chorus (the echoing on "wonder" and "why" are the stuff that classics are made of) and are a lesson in the subtleties of vocal phrasing in rock and roll. Finally, the song itself, with its eerie quality as it spins the tale of a love gone wrong, the woman who's gone and the one left holding the bag, helped set the stage for what rock and roll could be and often became--a stage for art that's as large as life itself. "Runaway" is a true wonder, and a shining supernova of rock's early days. Hyperbolic? Maybe a bit, but it's still a great song....
Lyric Sheet: "I'm a-walkin' in the rain/Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain/Wishin' you were here with me/To end this misery..."
Your little baby sister can do it with ease, it's as easy as learning your ABC's, so come on, come on and...I'm (eleven days--criminy!) late again....
I've mentioned a time or two here that one of my biggest musical influences was Rolling Stone's tenth anniversary issue in which a plethora of some of rock's greatest critics listed their top ten albums/songs over the first ten years of the magazine's existence. One pick was this week's artist's Something/Anything? which to this day stands as one of my all-time favorite albums. As such, when he came out with a new album a few years after reading the above noted issue, I took a chance on it--and promptly fell in love with this week's featured tune. In a nutshell, it's a bit like six degrees of Rolling Stone magazine....
I wrote about Todd Rundgren a thousand years ago in Vol. XLVI. In the interim he has released two more studio albums, was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2021 (he did not attend the ceremony), and at the ripe old age of seventy-eight is currently on tour. I noticed as I was doing my half-assed research that I was remiss in mentioning Rundgren's rather extensive discography, which can be found here. All in all, a top notch musical career.
"Determination" (yet another week with no Wikipedia song entry) was the last song on the first side of Rundgren's 1978 LP, the rather antisocially entitled Hermit of Mink Hollow. The song was not released as a single, and the album reached #36 on the Billboard 200.
Fun Fact: Every instrument, and every vocal, on this week's tune (for that matter, this week's album) was played and sang by Todd Rundgren. Maybe the reason he felt like a hermit?
Every now and again when I play one of my Friday Night Jukebox tunes prior to writing the post, it's been a while since I've heard it and I wonder to myself "Why the fuck did I want to feature this song?" Fortunately, it's always come back to me, and this week's tune was no different--the second time through I was "Ah, yes, that's why." From the snappy guitar intro to Rundgren's impassioned vocals (listen toward the end for a killer elongated "yeah" and a killer elongated "woo"), this one captures all the heart and soul it's seeking in three minutes and twelve seconds. I've often wondered if Rundgren was singing this one to a lover, a friend, or a potential leader (my money would be on lover as he'd just ended a long-term relationship before beginning work on this album), but I don't know that it matters. It's a determined song about...uh, determination and that's all ye need know....
Lyric Sheet: "Three days in the rain and I ain't had no sleep/But I won't break down now, I got a promise to keep..."
Yeah, I'm late--whatevs. This is my yearly "It's My Birthday And I'll Write About An Album If I Want To" post....
[Sixty-seven years young, for those counting at home.]
It would be impossible to overstate how influential this album has been to my life listening to music. It was originally released October 19, 1979, and somewhere around that time I read a rave review in Rolling Stone. I put it on my Christmas list for December of that year, and Mom and Dad were kind enough to oblige, and I started listening to it on Christmas Day. I immediately recognized the first song on side two as one I'd been hearing on the radio and had yet to find who sang it (well before the internet for you young 'uns wondering how I wouldn't know). Within a matter of weeks, I had gone to the record shop to buy their first two albums (absolutely killer records as well). Thus began a love affair with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers that lasts to this day and is only slightly surpassed by my love for Bruce Springsteen.
Damn the Torpedoes(and what a great album title that is) would go on to become Tom Petty's breakthrough album, eventually reaching #2 (most assuredly with a bullet!) on the Billboard 200, and spawning two top fifteen singles. It featured the band's original line-up: Mike Campbell on lead guitar, Benmont Tench on piano/organ, Ron Blair on bass guitar, and Stan Lynch on drums.
As these yearly posts generally end up quite long, we'll start here without further ado....
Refugee--And what a song to open an album with--one of my all-time favorites. Every band member shines: the guitars are ominous, the organ searing, the bass pulsating, the drums crashing, and the sneer in Petty's vocals is to die for. And to top it all off? The beyond killer backing vocals in the chorus. A stunning piece of music. Favorite line: "Somewhere, somehow, somebody must have kicked you around some/Who knows maybe you were kidnapped, tied up/Taken away for ransom...."
Here Comes My Girl--Aaand...the second one is amazing, too. The music is the sound of love triumphing, as Petty talk sings his way through the stanzas and his antagonist lets us know how her love has saved him and made it all make sense. When the instrumental break begins and Petty says, "Watch her walk" it always sends me into musical ecstasy. Favorite line: "Every now and then, I get down to the end of a day/I have to stop, I ask myself why I've done it/It just seems so useless to work so hard/And nothin' ever really seems to come from it..."
Even the Losers--This one is actually based on Petty's young life--he spent an evening with a popular girl and she let him know the next day that one night together was all he'd ever get. Great guitars, plenty of power from the rhythm section, and Petty's defiant vocals rule the day. The spoken "It's just the normal noises in here" that ends the static at the song's beginning is Mike Campbell's wife. Petty's anthem for the not so cool kids. Favorite line: "Baby, even the losers/Get lucky sometimes/Even the losers/Keep a little bit of pride..."
Shadow of a Doubt (Complex Kid)--It had been a while since I heard this one until I did my half-assed research this week. Kind of forgot--though it's not a standout track--that it was a pretty nice little ditty. Petty does a nice job vocally of capturing the protagonist's doubt about his girl's love for him--or is he just kidding himself about those feeings? The band's playing--as always--is solid and just a bit understated, which plays perfectly with the song's theme. Favorite line: "And when she's dreaming/Sometimes she sings in French/But in the morning/She don't remember it..."
Century City--There actually is a Century City--it's in L.A. and is quite well known as a commerce center. I've often wondered if this is Petty's ode to Los Angeles, the modern world where he would make his home for many years. Nice track, the band is solid and makes the music sound futuristic to go with the storyline. Sci fi music for the late seventies.... Favorite line: "Sometimes I get discouraged/Sometimes I get so down/Sometimes I get so worried/But I don't know what about..."
Flip it over for side two....
Don't Do Me Like That--The song that made me a fan for life. Benmont Tench steals the show with his organ playing, Stan Lynch pounds the drums into oblivion, Mike Campbell throws in a few nice licks, and Petty's gritty vocals take us into another stratosphere--and turned them all into superstars. Two minutes and forty-one seconds of unadulterated rock and roll joy. Oh, oh, oh indeed. Favorite line: "I was talking with a friend of mine, said a woman had hurt his pride/Told him that she loved him so and turned around and let him go..."
You Tell Me--And follows it with...a not so upbeat number. Could have been called "A Man with no Self Respect." Petty spins a tale of a man trying a little too hard to hold on to the one he's got. A solid if unspectacular effort. Favorite line: "Well you put me through your paces and you twisted/Until I felt like dying/Yeah the last thing I needed/Was to finally realize you were lying..."
What Are You Doin' in My Life?--A song about the stalker from hell. Petty plays the victim with a touch of terror and a touch of humor. Ron Blair's bass in killer throughout--almost hear echoes of rockabilly here. Add in some nice riffs from Campbell and some terrific piano from Tench and we have another winner. Favorite line: "Well, you're the last woman in the world that thrills me/Now you got my girlfriend trying to kill me..."
Louisiana Rain--I've always thought this was one of Petty's more underrated tunes (translation: I really, really like it). Not sure if this was their stab at a country song or a southern rock ballad, but either way, it worked. It's the story of a man travelling America and the years have not been kind (unlucky in love, booze, the world's sorrow always in his sight), still hoping (or not) to get back to Baton Rouge. Petty's vocals carry all his pathos, Tench's organ guides him from city to city, and the rest of the band plays their part in playing out his story. Just a tremendous ending to a tremendous album. Favorite line: "Louisiana Rain is falling just like tears/Running down my face, washing out the years/Louisiana rain is soaking through my shoes/I may never be the same when I reach Baton Rouge..."
Can't begin to tell you what a joy it was to revisit this year's album. Here's hoping next year is equally as satisfying--same bat time, same bat channel....
My introduction to this week's tune actually came from a cover version by the wondrous Nanci Griffith on a tribute album--Not Fade Away (Remembering Buddy Holly) [Yet again, no Wikipedia entry--WTF?]. I really enjoyed her version of it, so I checked out the original and was absolutely blown away. As luck would have it, I went on a Buddy Holly kick last fall and listened to his greatest hits about a thousand times so I'm well prepped for this week's post....
I wrote about Buddy Holly in Vol. XCVI, and as he has sadly remained dead since then I'll let that bio paragraph stand. I did note, however, as I read through that post that I had failed to mention Holly's discography--he released three studio albums and nineteen singles before his death (with a surprising lack of commercial success considering his legacy--none of his albums charted and he only had two top five singles). Since his death, twenty-nine compilations and nine more singles have been released.
Fun Fact: He was born Charles Holley, and my guess is that most people do not know his birth name was Charles (I didn't). Second, Holley became Holly because when he signed his first recording contract his name was misspelled and it remained Holly thereafter.
"Well...All Right" was actually released as the B-side of the song "Heartbeat," which originally appeared on the rather biographically entitled The Buddy Holly Story, Vol. 2. The song was the second to last single released before his death, while the album was released posthumously. The song only reached #82 (kinda sorta with a bullet?) in America, but it hit #30 in the U.K. The album did not chart here in the States but peaked at #7 in Great Britain (so many cool kids in the British Isles!).
While there is much to like about "Well...All Right"--it's a paean to the confidence of young love, Holly's vocals are just this side of perfect, it captures so much in two minutes and fourteen seconds, and musically it's as catchy as catchy can be--for me it's all about Holly's acoustic guitar. It's not that often that a single instrument can make an entire song for me, but there's an exuberance to his playing--he almost makes it sound like a ukulele, which is an instrument I love hearing--that transcends everything else. In and out, up and down, circling all around--whether its overdubbing or feedback the guitar brings it all home like the waves coming to the shore. In the end, it's a delightful sample of rock and roll's roots, and of an artist we lost far too soon who was coming into his own musically.
Lyric Sheet: "Well all right so I'm being foolish/Well all right let people know/About the dreams and wishes you wish/In the night when lights are low..."
While we were driving home from shopping today, I heard the sad news on a Sirius station that Dave Mason had passed away. I'm not going to pretend that I knew more than a handful of his songs (a couple from Traffic, a couple of hits he wrote for others), but his one solo hit, "We Just Disagree" (featured way back when in Vol. CLVI), was one of those songs that I didn't care for at first but as time wore on it became one of my all-time faves. And that was reinforced when I heard it today as it was played in memoriam for a life in rock and roll--just gets better and better every time I hear it.
His family's announcement of his death said it was as beautiful as his life, and I'm not sure one could ask for more than that.
I've vowed to memorialize those I've featured here when they go to that great rock and roll concert in the sky (I'm sure I've missed one or two), and that's why I'm here now, saying my thanks for the joy his music has brought me.
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met, it's a big enough umbrella but it's always me...that's (JFC--lucky--thirteen days!) late again....
A few years back I was cooking dinner and listening to my favorites playlist on my Ipod when this week's artist came on, and I thought, "Why do I have this guy on here? I don't even like him that much." Fast forward a couple of years when I, on a whim, threw his greatest hits into the CD player in the car...and promptly listened to it with joy for the next three months. Who knows? I've also wondered a time or two how the hell I missed this week's tune since it was released at a time when I was still very much in the music business, but one supposes it's because the world is just full of so many wonders....
As I was doing my half-assed research on Sting, it dawned on me how much musically he was like his fellow countryman Elvis Costello--the man has literally done everything. From his time with the Police (wrote about in Vol. CCXLIII) to his lengthy solo career, Sting has played numerous genres of music, collaborated with numerous artists from numerous genres, worked on numerous soundtracks and even had a musical (The Last Ship) based on his work for which he wrote the music and lyrics. He's won seventeen Grammys, three Brit Awards, an Emmy, and been nominated for four Academy Awards and a Tony Award. He's also been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (as a member of the Police) and the Songwriters Hall of Fame (kind of surprised that he hasn't been inducted as a solo artist in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame....). He's also acted in numerous movies and had twenty-one world tours. For his solo career, Sting has released fifteen solo albums (with ten top ten albums in the U.S., and seven in his native U.K.), six live albums, seven compilations, and fifty-one singles (five top ten's in American, two in Great Britain). And for the cherry on top, he's been involved in too many causes and charities to name, is a devotee of chess, and actually was a teacher for two years before rock and roll stardom beckoned. All of which begs the question: JFC, what the hell have I done with my life?
Fun Fact: Sting uses so much imagery in this week's tune that many people have asked if he got them from of a dream. Nope--they're just recollections from his childhood in Wallsend, England.
"All This Time" was the first single from his 1991 album, the rather philosophically entitled The Soul Cages.The song would hit #5 (with a bullet!) in the United States (and #1 in Canada--so many cool kids North of the Border!). The album would reach #2 here in the States while striking gold in the U.K. and hitting the #1 spot.
It's been within the last five years that I discovered this song, and I really couldn't name too many songs I've heard in the last few years that I enjoyed as much as I enjoyed this one. While doing my half-assed research, I discovered that Sting likes to pair upbeat lyrics with sad songs, and such is the case with "All This Time" (the song is actually about the death of his father from cancer--sadly, he lost both of his parents to cancer within a couple of years of each other). Musically, it's catchy as all hell, with the chorus being a sweet piece of pop pie. Sting's lyrics are phenomenal--one supposes one of the many benefits of his college education. And thematically? Every father should be so lucky to have such a wondrous song written about him. Lest I forget, the oh--ee--yo's that close out the song are downright dynamite, too. I'm not sure I have enough superlatives for this week's tune--just a wonderful, wonderful song (one of my favorite lyrics, too--see below).
Lyric Sheet: "All this time the river flowed/Endlessly like a silent tear/All this time the river flowed/Father, if Jesus exists then how come he never lives here?"
Good times never seemed so good, I've been inclined, to believe...I'm (eleven days--not a record!) late again....
Two in two days, twice as nice!
While I was familiar with this week's featured song, it was another in a long line of library book sale finds that first brought home how wonderful of a tune it is. I found this week's artist's His 12 Greatest Hitsfor the low, low price of a dollar and decided to take a chance on it. While I would not consider myself to be a big fan of his, over the course of the few weeks I listened to it I found three or four songs that I really liked, and one that I loved...which would be this week's post....
Neil Diamond is another of those artists who career achievements are a bit much for a paragraph, but I'll synopsize a handful of them for posterity. Diamond got his start when he received a guitar for his sixteenth birthday and almost immediately started writing songs. He was in a couple of groups before turning his attention to songwriting as a career, and until the late sixties made a small living (his most noticeable hit was "I'm a Believer"--emaycee fave!--by the Monkees). In the late sixties he began a solo career in earnest and buoyed by a number of hit singles and a live album became a force to be reckoned with in the seventies. Over the course of his career, Diamond has had a number of ultra successful world tours, won a Grammy Award, starred in a movie (The Jazz Singer), was inducted into the Songwriter's Hall of Fame in 1984, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2011. For his career, he has released thirty-two studio albums (one #1 and ten more top ten), two soundtracks (both top five), eight live albums, thirty-five compilation albums, and ninety-six singles (with ten of them hitting #1). Sadly, Diamond was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2018, and while he still performs one offs, has pretty much retired from the music business. [Blogger's Note: Diamond gets extra props from emaycee for appearing in my personal Holy Grail, which my loyal readers--all three of you--will know is the rockumentary The Last Waltz. He performed the song "Dry Your Eyes" which he co-wrote with Robbie Robertson of The Band.]
Fun Fact: Diamond attended Erasmus High School for two years, during which time he was classmates with Barbra Streisand and chess grandmaster Bobby Fischer.
"I Am...I Said" was released as a single in 1971, and later added to his seventh studio album, the rather rocky titled Stones. The single would reach #4 (with a bullet!), while the album would peak at #11,
It took Diamond four months to write "I Am...I Said" and, in retrospect, it was worth every minute to him as the song is considered one of his best both musically and as a songwriter. He has said the song is about being lost and lonely when he first moved to Los Angeles from his native New York, knowing that neither was now home. Opening with some nice acoustic guitar picking, Diamond lays out his dilemma by contrasting his feelings for the two cities before crying "I am" to battle the emptiness he feels inside. The song is very personal (if ever there was a no shit, Sherlock moment....), and for me, Diamond spills his life without drowning himself in a pity party. It's a song about finding a way to the comforts of a fabled home, and in the end is a gem from the era in which the singer/songwriter was king.
Lyric Sheet: "'I am,' I cried/'I am' said I/And I am lost and I can't/Even say why..."
She said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side, and the coloured girls go...I'm (seventeen days late, a new Friday Night Jukebox record!) late again....
My introduction to this week's tune came one Christmas in the late seventies (couldn't remember which one, though 1978 would be my guess) when my parents bought me this week's artist's triple album greatest hits, Decade. I was just beginning to learn there was a lot more to life than they taught me in high school, and simultaneously that there was a lot more to rock and roll than top forty radio, and that album opened my eyes even wider to both. And I'll never forget Young's self-penned liner note about this week's song: "I am not a preacher, but drugs killed a lot of great men." Just as true today....
I've written about Neil Young as a solo artist twice before (here and here) and once as a member of Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young for the greatest protest song every written, "Ohio." In the little more than a year since I last wrote about him, Young has released two albums (one of which has been in the vaults since the 1970's) and headlined the Glastonbury Festival. Even better, last year he released another protest song, "Big Crime," which he wrote in response to Donald Trump, piece of shit that he is, sending the National Guard into Washington D.C. One of its lyrics was "Got to get the fascists out, got to clean the White House out...." Bravo, Mr. Young!
"The Needle and the Damage Done" was originally released in 1972 on Young's rather accumulatively named album, Harvest. The song was released as the B-side of Young's single "Old Man" which peaked at #31 (with a bullet!) on the Billboard Hot 100 (it reached #4 in Young's native Canada--so many cool kids in the Great White North!), The album was the only #1 of his career.
(Not so) Fun Fact: Young wrote the song about the effects of heroin addiction on musicians he knew, including his Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten. Sadly, Whitten would die of an overdose the same year the song was released. Even worse, the next year Young's roadie Bruce Berry also died of an overdose.
"The Needle and the Damage Done" is two minutes of sheer fucking brilliance. Rather than record a studio version, Young used a version he'd performed in concert, just him and his guitar, for the album release. The sparseness of the show strips the song to its bare essence which captures both the song's beauty and its sorrow. Neil Young has written a lot of great songs, but this is his greatest. The lyrics reveal Young's compassion for these troubled folks and avoids even the slightest hint of self-righteousness as he chronicles heroin addiction and the chains with which it wraps up its victims. Young's vocals are spare, honest, and convey the tragedy he has seen unfolding around him. Add in Young's beautiful melody, picked adeptly on his acoustic guitar, and you have a masterpiece, a short story in song.
Lyric Sheet: "I've seen the needle and the damage done/A little part of it in everyone/But every junkie's like a settin' sun..."
It takes a worried man to sing a worried song, I'm worried now, but...I'm (nine days) late again....
[Blogger's Aside: Two down, one to go....]
I couldn't begin to remember when I was introduced to this week's song, though it probably had something to do with either reading about labor unions or celebrating Labor Day. I actually have featured it before on Labor Day in 2014, but it's such a killer pro-union song that I felt it truly deserved its own post....
The Nightwatchman (his backing band is called the Freedom Fighter Orchestra) is Rage Against the Machine's (wrote about in Jukebox CDLXXXVII) guitarist Tom Morello's alter ego for when he wants to perform political songs. Few people in the music business have had a career as varied as Morello. He has a B.A. in social studies from Harvard and worked for a time as an exotic dancer when he graduated and moved to Los Angeles. During his career, Morello was in the aforementioned RATM, Audioslave, Prophets of Rage, Street Sweeper Social Club, released solo albums, and has spent a number of years touring and recording with Bruce Springsteen (The Nightwatchman was inspired by his work with Springsteen on The Ghost of Tom Joad). Morello was elected into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with his bandmates in RATM in 2023. He was ranked as the eighteenth greatest guitarist of all-time in Rolling Stone's 2018 list. His rather extensive discography can be found here. Morello is active in numerous political causes and has been a voice for the poor and the politically oppressed since he was in high school. As if all that wasn't more than enough for a career, he's also written a series of comic books.
Fun Fact: Morello had a band, Bored of Education, while he attended Harvard that won an Ivy League Battle of the Bands in 1986. His band featured Carolyn Bertozzi on keyboards, who went on to win a Nobel Prize in Chemistry in 2022.
"Union Town" was the first song on The Nightwatchman's 2011 EP, the rather appropriately named Union Town.The song was not released as a single (and oh, how great it would have been had it been released as a single) and the EP did not chart.
Amazingly enough, "Union Town" is an ode to the power of labor unions. Featuring a righteous theme, inspired vocals from Morello, and some bitchin' backing from the Freedom Fighter Orchestra, the song announces loudly our defiance in the face of our corporate oppressors. Morello throws in some killer guitar solos and further manages--a la Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger before him--to have written a political song that's catchy as all hell. And also has his Mom and one of his sons on backing vocals! If you're a liberal, left-wing, union member, union supporter, or a Democrat this song's for you. And if not? Well then, fuck all the way off.
Lyric Sheet: "This is a union town, union town/All down the line/And if you come to strip our rights away/We'll give you hell every time..."
The average American gets paid just enough so he doesn't quit his job, and works just hard enough so he doesn't get fired.
"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying the cross." Source unknown
Uncle emaycee Wants You For the Coming Class War! Enlist today....
Capitalism: Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you can exploit his labor, become filthy rich, and keep the poor bastard living paycheck to paycheck for the rest of his life.
