This stuff is so light and fresh and airy, it has no right being so accessible in the wintertime. I’ve been grooving (that’s the word, in the Young Rascals sense) to Eytan & The Embassy’s album The Perfect Break-Up non-stop for a couple of days now. It’s got that classic Raspberries or late-ELO feel, where songs are translated in a perfect pop lingo using phrases and notes coined by masters such as The Beatles (heavy on the Lennon), The Turtles (for the harmonies), Northwestern R&B/garage bands, Bolan & Bowie, and many unsung one-hit-wonders of the ‘60s and ‘70s.

Musically, this is comforting and familiar, yet fresh. Lyrically, it’s human and honest and confessional, yet fresh. The fact that bandleader Eytan Oren appears shockingly young, and that these ambassadors of London, Detroit, Memphis and L.A. sounds base their embassy in Brooklyn, gives the whole project an otherworldly, out-of-time feel. Yet here they are, in the here and now, giving contemporary teens a forebear of what kept their poor punk-starved parents going in the late-middle 20^th century. “The Good Life” features guest bleatings and bashings by Locksley, one of my all-time fave pop/punk/British invasion blenders. I’m a power-pop purist; this is a hard artform for the post-modern set to crack. Locksley’s done it, and so now has Eytan & The Embassy.

Things get even brighter with the brand new Eytan & The Embassy single, released Tuesday on iTunes. “Everything Changes” doesn’t exactly change everything—it’s the same heady brew of power-pop, white soul, Motown horns and ‘70s AM radio rock—but this time the studio production seems to keep up with all the melodic voices in Eytan’s head. It overwhelms with confidence and energy. It’s also a song of optimism and self-awareness, which is nice to hear during these cold-season just-broke-all-my-New-Year’s-resolutions doldrums.

Eytan & The Embassy play tomorrow, Thursday Feb. 2, at the Outer Space in Hamden. As impressed as I am by the extravagant pop production, I imagine this would be a special band to see live. Eytan takes pride in his soulful voice, and I expect one of the balladdy tunes such as “Juliet,” where he croons “Come on, I am on your side,” could be intoxicating in a small club as a surefire rave-up like “Queen Bee.”

Eytan & The Embassy play Feb. 2 at the Outer Space in Hamden—a single release party of sorts—with Super Bad, Matt Maynes of Johnny Mainstream and Patrick McHenry.

The Amazon alert I received yesterday is titled “Sax Rohmer’s New Book.”

Rohmer died in 1959. The book in question is The Mystery of Fu Manchu, which will be reissued in a couple of weeks by Titan Books as a ten-dollar paperback, or via Kindle for $6.39.

The Mystery of Fu Manchu is already available on Kindle for a buck and a half, within the 615-page Fu Manchu Omnibus 1, which also includes the other two volumes of the initial Fu-Manchu trilogy: The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu and The Hand of Dr. Fu-Manchu. Under its American title, The Insidious Fu Manchu, there are several Kindle editions available for free.

The Titan edition’s distinction will be “a special feature by Leslie S. Klinger.” Klinger’s cool. He’s a trusted authority on both Sherlock Holmes and Dracula, and edited the new annotated edition of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics (a 560-page hardcover).

Context is everything with Fu-Manchu, and Klinger can provide it. The novels are unconscionably racist, appealing to a readership to which “inscrutable” was a better adjective than “mysterious” when describing an “oriental” villain with evil powers and world-conquering intentions. Yet these books are cornerstones of 20^th century adventure fiction. Offensive, undoubtedly, but from an era which boasted no end of things which offend modern sensibilities. Up to you whether you need a new $6 preface to tell you that.

Hip Dip
Talk Balk
Freak Critique
Net Nut
Lame Aim
Steep Leap
The Moose is Loose
Sheer Non-Cents
Cute Catch
Nutty Note
The Sandy Clause
Goof Spoof
The Champ of Camp
Super Duper Star
Care Despair
The Paws That Refreshes
Conversation Frustration
Cake Mistake
Weekend Pest
The Moose is Loose (again!)
Can Goodies
Boat Banter
Race Case
Wheel Wail
Tip Top
Escape Caper
Substitute Suitor
..plus an unusually high percentage of titles that neither pun nor rhyme, and which I shall not bother with here.

“Goof Spoof,” by the way, is a gag in which Big Moose (also the object of ridicule in both “The Moose is Loose” strips) is mowing the lawn and told by Archie that “to take care of crab grass… you have to get rid of it as soon as it comes up!” So Moose is shown in the middle of the night, scissors in hand, shining a flashlight on the lawn and waiting for the first hint of grass. Which has, I’d argue, nothing that merits the designation of either “goof” or “spoof.”

If everyone who claims to have heard “Sat” Satin play when he was part of the local scene were telling the truth, he would’ve been selling out stadiums—and this town doesn’t have any of those. Some say he came up at a time when bands were gracious and community-driven, and that his unusual act benefitting from that purity. Others say he was a crazed, driven monster who broke up every band which wouldn’t let him have his way.
Satin still circles the scene, plucking gullible guitarists and ego-driven drummers out of bands which are sickened to lose them. Sat promises the sun, moon and stars. He knows producers, agents, label owners. (Or at least he used to.) He’s the last of the old school wheeler-dealers, and he still gets a lot of good people stuck in his orbit.
Latest “Sat” Satin New Talent Showcase—at which the participants pay (rather than get paid) to play—is Saturday. Or, as its herald would have it, Satin-Day, at D’ollaire’s, where the maestro still has some old connections. The smaller clubs are done with Sat’s nonsense—some bartenders won’t even serve him. That’s notoriety, we guess, a precious resource for networking. But we’re sitting Sat’s latest stunt out.

The Secret of Pirates’ Hill, a live punk rock opera by a secret ensemble who once had Pirates in their name until they weren’t allowed to anymore, at The Bullfinch, with “narrative folksinger” Trapped at Sea (who’s also at several senior centers this week)… Hooded Hawk (some kind of penis metaphor, we’re told) with Airport Mystery at Hamilton’s… More darkness at D’ollaires with Demon’s Den, Blackwing Puzzle, Game Plan for Disaster and Tic-Tac-Terror… Several teen bands got on a benefit bill for their dads’ forest-animal Lodge #72: Voodoo Plot, Firebird Rocket, Sky Blue Flame, Witchmaster’s Key and the little league outfit Danger on the Diamond. Will they have made anything once they pay for the clean-up afterwards?…

Fell asleep. Nearly burned house down. Smoke all over the walls.

Jamuel Saxon, Pre-Madonna.
Jamuel Saxon, featuring composer/frontman Keith Milgaten plus live bandmates and a projectionist, has the amiability and impatience that are too often missing from electro-pop. The band’s songs don’t spin aimlessly in their tracks. They amble off in fresh directions, layering and extending themselves. The opening track, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas Jefferson” continues the presidential nameplay of the band’s own monicker and is a fitting intro for the fun and frolic to follow. “Time is Money” (with rapper Scarub, who also appears on “Fake Yr Death”) is a straight-out pop single, quirky yet earnest. “Planetarium” gets more dark and tribal. Honestly, by then you’re hooked. I don’t dance, but I listen, and this is listenable dance music.

It’s Mark Lindsay season! The latest issue of ‘60s garage fanzine Ugly Things has a lengthy interview with the old vocalist for Paul Revere and the Raiders. (For those who don’t know, Paul Revere was the real name of the band’s entrepreneurial founder and drummer.) Now the generally less nostalgic rock mag The Big Takeover runs a separate chat with Lindsay in its 69th issue, one which also touts interviews with members of Iggy Pop’s Stooges and the recently reunited 60s baroque pop pioneers The Left Banke.
There’s some overlap but no overkill. It’s hard to tire of Mark Lindsay’s exploits, and I wish he’d write a book already. He was an attractive front man, but no mindless pop star, helping guide the group from the lucrative realm of sleazy frat parties to a losing duel with The Kingsmen over who’d turn “Louie Louie” into a hit (ditto Monkees and “Stepping Stone”), from dressing up in Revolutionary War costumes for a daily teen-dance show to a string of major hit records, from disguising the band as “Pink Puzz” to sucker radio programmers when the Raiders were considered unhip to surving time spent in the house of co-producer Terry Melcher, site of Manson family murders. Lindsay made the most of Paul Revere’s ride, becoming a skilled songwriter and producer and fashioning a solo career that helped him when the band’s fortunes waned. He’s been the member most keen to revisit the grottiest chapters of the Raiders’ storied past, doing a Cavestomp set in the ‘90s backed by Chesterfield Kings and reuniting in ’97 with key Raiders Drake, Smitty and Fang even when Paul Revere didn’t want to join in. The impetus for the interviews is a new Raiders greatest-hits collection, but Lindsay’s more vital than that. He’s still raiding and stepping and hungering and kicking.

I am a “lead writer,” whatever that means, for a new web publication, The Daily Nutmeg. The site’s founder is Mike Mims, former publisher of Connecticut Magazine. Mims’ sons Dan and Jeremy are actively involved with the look and style of Daily Nutmeg. The other main writer is Todd Lyon, a former New Haven Advocate colleague of mine and of course the former food columnist for the New Haven Register. I’m thrilled to be a part of this new endeavor. It’s slick, it’s legit, it’s found a niche, and I get to write about stuff I dig in New Haven. What’s not to love?

The site has been up since December, and articles I did on It’s a Wonderful Life at Long Wharf Theatre and the Library Science exhibit at Artspace have already appeared on it.

But in terms of its most provocative element, Daily Nutmeg properly launched just last week. Its main distinction is a daily e-mail feature about New Haven culture, sent directly to those who’ve signed up for a free subscription. The stories land on the main site as well, but there’s a neat novelty is getting a well-packaged local preview or profile in your in-box every day.

Today’s the first e-mail feature with my byline on it—the first of a weekly rundown of things to see and do in New Haven. As the writer of “Critic’s Picks” and “Highlights” sections in print newspapers for decades, I found I’d actually missed that discipline once I turned to a freelance existence a few years ago. It’s refreshing to be flipping through club schedules and college calendars again.

For me, this is a wonderful opportunity to get back into writing positivist stories set in the cultural capital of Connecticut.
My theater reviews and personality-based op-ed columns got more attention, naturally, but the bulk of what I did for a combined 20 years at the New Haven Advocate and the old (late-‘80s, print format) New Haven Independent was upbeat previews of worthwhile local events, or profiles of people and institutions in the community.

There’s no lack of opinions on the web, but it’s hard to find culture features of the sort that once filled whole sections of the local dailies and alt-weeklies. Some sniff at that stuff and don’t miss it, but as someone who’s done it for decades, I think it’s hard to do properly. A preview article is not propaganda, and it’s not advertorial. It’s there to answer questions about a thing or event that deserves your attention, and understanding. If connections aren’t made with the community, that thing might soon vanish. I always found explaining cultural phenomena to potential partakers to be a high calling. Thanks to Daily Nutmeg, I’m doing it on a regular basis again.

Etta James died last week, within days of the death of her mentor and fellow R&B/rock & roll crossover pioneer, Johnny Otis.
Etta James wailed a decade ago on New Haven Green in sketchy weather. I always remember those Green concerts where the artists triumph over the elements.
Etta James did one of my favorite blues Christmas albums, 12 Songs of Christmas, all familiar carols worked over in her sassy rasp.
Etta James (who real first name, delightfully, was Jamesetta) was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1993—eight years before she was entered into the Blues Hall of Fame and Rockabilly Hall of Fame. Her 1970 album Etta James Sings Funk has to be heard to be believed.