Scribblers Music Review

Michael Feuerstack, “Clackity Clack.” This guy would be Rod McKuen reborn if he didn’t temper some of his simplistic life-is-like-that lyrics and obvious metaphors with wild absurdities and some inspired musical accompaniment. Simpicity wins out. “Clackity clack, clackity clack.” The song’s on Feuerstack’s new album The Forgettable Truth.

Sandman Swept Away

I’ve been rereading Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series to see if it’s appropriate for my 12-year daughter Mabel. Generally speaking, it is—another of those things which was marked “For Mature Audiences” a quarter century ago but seems rather mainstream today.
I’m fortunate to have discovered Sandman when its very first issue came out. I’d already become a Neil Gaiman fan through his reinvention of Black Orchid.
Sandman’s such a classic now that it’s hard to remember back when its cult was small and fragile. The “Preludes and Nocturnes” collection of the first eight issues demonstrates how it took a year or so for the series to find its voice, as Gaiman freely acknowledges in his intro to the book. The breakthrough story was the first one that featured Sandman’s sister Death, which is so good that the same story is used to end the first Sandman volume and begin the second one.
Those early stories are fascinating, but nothing I’ll be rereading soon again. The later stories, however, are extraordinary—at least as good as Neil Gaiman’s most celebrated prose novels, probably better. As serial adventures go, they’re a lot less clunky than nearly all the DC or Vertigo comics they influenced, especially Justice League Dark, which revolves around the same iconic House of Mystery which Sandman initially emanated from. If Mabel really takes a liking to this stuff, I’ll feel justified in finally popping for one of those expensive Complete Sandman or Annotated Sandman anthologies.

Rock Gods #367: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

Purplephiles plowed through a record 72 songs in their 45-minutes set Thursday at the Bullfinch. It wasn’t to win a bet, and it wasn’t their usual set. It was a demonstration of how they rehearse, in what they call their weekly “bull band” sessions. Someone calls out a classic tune, they slam out four bars or so of it, agree that they know it, and move on. At the Finch, they took requests from the audience, stipulating first that this wasn’t to be a “stump the band” nite and they were fine with saying no to outlandish requests. But they did still know an awful lot of songs, including a few real obscurities (“Ill Lad” by Ho and the Myrrhs, anyone?) which friends in the crowd knew they knew. A stop/start night of premature ejaculations and shortened expectations, but a dazzling show of prowess. Anybody else rehearse like this?
Tonight: Mini Twinge at the Bullfinch… Caster and the Polaks

Riverdale Book Review

Five Archie Statements
Bad and accidental skiing and surfboarding stunts win prizes rather than well-practiced professional ones.
Two women can not wear the same style of dress at the same event without a major altercation.
All pop music, to parents, is loud and obnoxious.
When a student is late to class, it is customary to sneak into the room on hands and knees.
Gift-buying is frequently observed surreptitiously by a rival gift-buyer.

Scribblers Music Review

Humming House, Revelries. This whole album is a chemistry experiment, gauging which folk and pop elements work best in the country soil from which this vocal group springs. I think the most overtly Country stuff works worst (references to trains and cowboys are just embarrassing) while a track like “This Hell Where We Belong” has it all—attitude, blues, plenty of room for both vocal and instrumental ranginess.“I Am a Bird” opens with whistling, like a ‘20s Gene Austin croon—before getting intense and thumpy. Full of surprises, this Humming House, even for those of us who tend to find harmony pop groups cloying and precious.

Book Review: So, Anyway by John Cleese

This is John Cleese telling us what it was like to be John Cleese before he was Monty Python John Cleese or Fawlty Towers John Cleese or Fish Called Wanda John Cleese. Those projects basically go unmentioned in this book, though the build-up to Python is covered and Wanda director Charles Crichton is met on a previous project and Fawlty co-star Connie Booth was Cleese’s first wife. The Monty Python story is so well chronicled that it’s hard to imagine Cleese would have much to add to it. Frankly, I opened the book looking for anecdotes about his involvement with the film of Terry Southern’s The Magic Christian starring Peter Sellers and Ringo Starr. While there’s not a lot, there’s more than anywhere else, and it’s part of a pivotal time, when he and Graham Chapman were a sought-after writing team but hadn’t made their mark yet. In a different world, the pinnacle of Cleese’s career might’ve been writing the pilot episode of the long-running Doctor in the House TV period. But Python happened, and Doctor in the House gets a single parenthesized sentence.

Rock Gods #366: Adventures in Our Little Music Scene

Manny Louse had lost his lead singer, so he begged Greek Chieftains to lend him their back-up vocalist Penny. She wanted to do the gig, but the whole band had to vote on it because of some very real scheduling conflicts. Guitarist Uli, who’s always been protective of Penny, raised such a stink that the negotiations fell through. Turns out Uli had some bizarre ulterior motive, and happily came around once Manny had promised him everything from doing his household chores to writing the GCs a new song. Then the obvious happened: the bands joined forces, and are doing two sets at Hamilton’s Thursday. (Why are all the good stories at Hamilton’s this week?) A whole new band is in the works, and a star named Penny is born…
Tonight: Sea Nymph at the Bullfinch… Thee Immortals at Hamilton’s… King Lycomedes at D’ollaire’s, with a pick-up band…