I'll Give You Somethin' To Cry About...

Let me tell ya, Unkle Lancifer and Aunt John over at Kindertrauma are some stand-up guys...er, one guy and a girl...I think. Anyhoo, you would figure after that whole I.N.S. black-tar heroin debacle which resulted from my last babysitting gig, that perhaps they would have gone a different route with regards to potential babysitters. But no, these two, being the good Christians that they are, have found it in their hearts to give this old drug-mule a second chance...so stop on by, but for Christ's sake don't fuck up my gig, cause I'm in the hole twenty large to a guy whose first name is a city, and I desperately need the money.

The Art of Andrew Wodzianski

Inspired by the short-story 'Wolf-Alice' by British author Angela Carter (Highly recommended).

www.wodzianski.com

The Incredibly Strange Blogger Who Stopped Posting and Became a Mixed-Up Zombie !!?

B-movie director Ray Dennis Steckler maintains that he envisioned his 1964 masterwork ‘The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed Up Zombies’ as a companion piece to ‘Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb'.

If one were to follow that line of reasoning, then that would make Steckler’s original title of ‘The Incredibly Strange Creatures or: How I Learned to Stop Living and Become a Mixed-Up Zombie’ exceptionally clever for an admittedly one-note 'mench'. Shame then that an ill-timed cease & desist order parlayed that mouthful of a title into the ridiculous film we have all come to know and love today.

(Note: Stekler’s film held the distinction of being the longest film title in it’s day, surpassed only by the 1967 film adaptation of Peter Weiss’ ‘The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade’.)

And make no mistake, we do love it! I mean, how could you not appreciate the audacity of a man who' cinematic output includes the likes of 'Rat Pfink A Boo Boo' and 'The Horny Vampire'!

Far from being Steckler's only laps in judgement, ole' Cash Flagg envisioned 'Creatures' as the 'World's First Monster Musical', a distinction dubiously attributed to Del Tenney's beach-party dust-up 'The Horror of Party Beach', though 'Creatures' bested 'Beach' in it's race to the box office by several months. And you might as well forget the fact that Steckler stole the Del-Aires' thunder by populating 'Creature's' soundtrack with his very own composition - albeit, less surf and more soul - titled 'Zombie Stomp'.



But which came first...the zombie chicken or the zombie egg?

While most people believe the 1964 Danny Ware cut of 'Zombie Stomp', pressed on REL records, to be the Real McCoy (the label confirming the track's tie-in to Steckler's 1964 film) the fact of the matter is Steckler double-dipped for his 'Stomp', the original cut of the tune being released by Bill Gholston on the same REL imprint one year prior.

Where as Danny Ware's disk backs 'Stomp' up with another track from the film (the string-drenched 'It's Incredible'), the original release bookends 'Stomp' with a weirdo tune about Frankenstein riding in a Volkswagen' titled 'Monster's A Go-Go'!



Upon closer inspection the core tracks on both versions of ‘Stomp’ sound exactly the same, but the vocals are obviously different (the Ware version is better). I personally can’t imagine the initial release enjoying brisk sales to inspire a second crack at the zombie-themed soul market, though Ray Dennis Steckler did posses the foresight to hire Arch Hall Jr.as his romantic lead in 'Wild Guitar'...so I guess I have no choice but to trust his judgement implicitly.



Zombie Stomp – Danny Ware

Zombie Stomp – Billy Gholston

Monster A Go-Go – Billy Gholston

The Ghost Song

With October in full western swing, were gonna throw some corn-pones into the cauldron in the guise of a little creepy ‘country’.

There is a consensus amongst wise-witchy-women (not to mention assorted mountain folk), that a little pinch o’ salt is just the ticket to ward off evil spirits, not that harp blower Floyd ‘Salty’ Holmes can be put off by such chicanery.

Take this 1954 cut in which a vengeful frog-throated spirit seeks to settle old scores w/ the man who “Shot his Great Grandpa”. Besides being an all round unconventional spooker, this side illicits a certain sentimentality in this RedBoy, as my own Great Grandfather was shot in a barbershop during a Fairland Oklahoma bank robbery back in the 1930’s, though he managed to tuff it out and stick to this side of the other side.

I have to admit, it saves me a lot of trouble havin’ to haunt the man responsible. I mean, I barely have the time to post, much less orchestrate revenge from beyond the grave. Good thing then that ole’ ‘Salty’ here tows the infernal line for all of us:

“Holmes was born in Glasgow, Kentucky. He became a virtuoso on the harmonica, specializing in the style known as "talking harp" which imitated the human voice (much like Sonny Terry). He also played the jug and guitar. He formed the group The Kentucky Ramblers in 1930, who changed their name to The Prairie Ramblers in 1933 and began broadcasting on Chicago radio station WLS with new vocalist Patsy Montana. They continued performing and recording under this name until 1952, playing country, hillbilly music, gospel, and pop songs. They were the backing group on Montana's platinum hit "I Want to Be a Cowboy's Sweetheart". Group members included Jack Taylor on bass, Chick Hurt on mandolin, and Alan Crocket and, later, Tex Atchison on fiddle. They made over 100 recordings between 1933 and 1940, including as session musicians.

While a member of the Prairie Ramblers, Holmes befriended Gene Autry, who invited him to Hollywood to star in westerns in 1936 and 1944; among the films Holmes appeared in are Arizona Days and Saddle Leather Law. In a scene of Arizona Days, Holmes plays two harmonicas using both his mouth and nose. The Prairie Ramblers also backed Autry on some of his recordings in the 1930s.”

It’s worth noting that Holmes was married to Sun records honey Gene Chapel (Welcome to the Club / I Won't be Rockin' Tonight) for a spell, whereby they made the ‘Opry’ rounds before callin’ it quits in the late fifties. Yet of all their collaborative efforts, nothing stands the test of time like a brassed-off spook.

Ghost Song – Salty Holmes

The Art of James Bama

Original source paintings for 1960's Aurora model kit box-tops.

www.jamesbama.com

“That’s Your Mama, Son! There’s the Monster Over There!!!"

October is finally here, thus kicking off this RedBoy’s month long ode to Halloween. Always an important day on my calendar, I intend to keep this month’s posts on the “all together ooky” tip. Check back regularly for some spooky action, as well as a forthcoming collaboration with fellow Halloween enthusiast DevilDick over @ 'The Devil's Music'

So…shall we begin?

Like the majestic Wombat, the Gila Monster is a woefully underappreciated animal in the annals of Rock & Roll. In fact, much like the Wombat, only one individual to my knowledge has had the foresight to extol the virtues of this venomous reptile on the recorded medium of wax.

Who is this giant among men of whom I speak, why none other than Huston Texas’ own Joe Johnson.

While not officially sponsored by 'Hollywood Film Corporation',‘Gila Monster'was initially conceived and recorded as a tie in to the 1959 HFC film ‘The Giant Gila Monster’ (Note: Check out the crowd scenes in ‘The Giant Gila Monster’ for a young, pre- ’99 Chicks’ Ron Haydock!). Joe Johnson pulled out all the R & B stops on this pounder. From that opening salvo of a scream to the ghetto breakdown which brings this monster home, it’s tuff to top this scaly bastard “lickin’ around” on the “Shela Monster” prowl.

Funny story...upon trackin’ this disc down, I gave it a spin and was just about to rock out to the screamin’ guitar break I have come to know and love, when all of the sudden I got hit with this weird-ass rag-time solo and a completely different take on the vocals. At first I assumed I got horn-swaggled, that is until I discovered that the promo version of ‘Gila Monster’ and the standard release version are two different recordings!



The promo is obviously the original take, sliding effortlessly into that cool guitar break; where as the standard version randomly pastes a piano solo right in the middle of the tune like a goddamn postage stamp. Lord knows why they would try to improve upon perfection, but at least it gives us twice the ‘Monster’ to dig.

In the interests of evolutionary science I have managed to track down a promo in addition to the official release, and am now passing the savings on to you, the consumer. Please enjoy a double helping of ‘Gila Monster’, warts and all!

Gila Monster (Promo) – Joe Johnson

Gila Monster (Release) - Joe Johnson

Ooo Daddy Take Me Home!

This record is amazing!

I plucked this little pearl outta the stacks at the since defunct ‘Black Cat’ records (Ari from ‘Lifetime’s old gig) in Redbank New Jersey ages ago. From the general setup, I was bracing myself for a Ronnie Spector-esque jaunt through down-town Motown, but was floored when I heard this caterwaul.

Lil’ Donna Lou sounds just like a chick offa the streets of Bayonne. Every time I play this record I can practically smell the Aquanet and grape bubblegum. Donna manages to slur her way through these tunes like she has a nail appointment to keep and her boyfriend ‘Frankie’ is layin’ on the horn out front in the car (pronounced Caahh).



The band isn’t any better, the falsetto backing vocals practically lost beneath that puny sax honking away like a bicycle horn. I especially love that one late hit at the end of ‘Cadillac’ that sounds like the snare drum falling over. Pure genius!

Don’t misconstrue what I’m layin’ down as any form of detraction. This record is essential Rock & Roll! Take Donna home and give her the buisness, won’t cha!

White Cadillac – Donna Lou

Only Heaven Knows - Donna Lou

9.9 on the Richter Scale

A mystery even more perplexing then “Who Built the Pyramids?” would be “Who are Pyramid?”, cause I gotta be honest, I got nothin’ on this stone-soul mover. One thing is for sure, I’m willing to bet that these Pyramids are not of the ‘Penetration’ variety.

Always a sucker for a pt 1 / pt 2, the flip is admittedly the better of the offerings, what with its Latin drive-train and sharp fuzz solo. If the brash brass is any indication, figure on it being an early seventies cut.

Oh, and if you happen to hear a wobble at the beginning or this track, let me assure you that the disk isn’t warped, that’s just the earth movin’ under your feet.

“Feel it rumble! Feel it roar!”

Earthquake Shake pt 2 - Pyramid

The Sound of the Hound

Just a heads up, all around ace DJ The Hound has joined the Blogroll.

If’un you don’t already know (live under a rock do ya?) WFMU’s the Hound (pictured above in an artists rendering) used to broadcast outta East Orange NJ from the mid-eighties to the mid-nineties and was a Saturday afternoon staple in the crack house me and my no-good brother lived in (since demolished) on Poplar Street in Fords.

Blues Hangover, Hillbilly Hangover, Soul Caboose…it sure was a kick following an evening of bending our heads around a case of ‘Black Label’.

You can scope him out @ The Hound Blog and download archived shows @ Hound.net

Enjoy!

Famous Amos

My traveling variety show managed to get booted from Canada due to some illicit activity on the part of a band mate who shall not be named (Ehem).

I don't quite know what's worse, driving 600 miles in a van with these assholes for nothing, or, upon getting pinched, having to turn around and drive 600 miles in the other direction.

The only saving grace would be Arby's foothold on the east coast (The Arby-Q is back!!!); that, and the bottle of Basil Hayden's Bourbon in Montana's backpack. And it's in the spirit of that very same penacia that I give you a sampling of the alcoholic works of Amos Milburn.

The only real way to dig this R & B junk is on 78rpm, a risky proposition if you are anything like me and have a bad habit of stepping on, sitting on, or else Atom-smashing the shit out of 'Unbreakable' discs.

I managed to scam these, along w/ a decent pile of other R & B platters in a chicken coop in Lancaster PA many moons back. While I made it out unscathed and heavy in the wallet, it just about broke my heart to see what discs lay pulverized at the bottom of that packing crate ('Passing By Blues' anyone?). But getting back to Mr. Milburn:

"Born in Houston, one of thirteen children, by the age of five Milburn was playing tunes on the piano. He enlisted in the United States Navy when he was fifteen and earned thirteen battle stars in the Philippines, before returning to Houston and organizing a sixteen-piece band playing in Houston clubs, and mixing with the Houston jazz and blues scene. He was a polished pianist and performer and in 1946 attracted the attention of an enterprising woman who arranged a recording session with Aladdin Records in Los Angeles. Milburn's relationship with Aladdin lasted eight years during which he cut over seventy-five sides. His cover of "Down the Road a Piece" (1946), a blues with a rocking Texas boogie beat that bordered on rock, was ahead of its time. However, none caught on until 1949 when seven of his singles got the attention of the R&B audience.

He became one of the leading performers associated with the Central Avenue music scene of Los Angeles' Watts neighborhood. Among his best known songs was "One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer". In 1950 Milburn's "Bad, Bad, Whiskey" reached the top of the R&B charts and began a string of drinking songs (none written by Milburn, but several penned by Rudy Toombs). However, there is no evidence that Milburn had a drinking problem.

Milburn continued his successful drinking songs through 1952 {"Thinking and Drinking", "Trouble in Mind"} and was by now touring the country playing clubs. While touring the Midwest that summer, he announced that he would disband his combo and continue as a solo act and that fall he joined Charles Brown for a Southern concert tour. For the next few years his tours were made up of strings of one nighters. After three years of solo performing he returned to Houston in 1956 to reform his band. In 1957 Milburn's releases on Aladdin Records did not sell well, and the record label, having its own problems, went out of business. He tried to regain commercial success with a few more releases on Ace Records but his time had passed. Radio airplay was becoming focused on the teenage market."

Be it 'Good, Good Whiskey' or 'Bad, Bad Whiskey', the fact of the matter is you got a lot of whiskey to down. I suggest you get started, and remember, when a customs agent gives you the business, lie like a rug. Cheers!

Bad, Bad Whiskey - Amos Milburn

One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer - Amos Milburn

"Hooks", Line & Sinker

Can't hang much on ole' Mr. Hooks here besides several sides on 'Excello', home of such illustrious performers as Slim Harpo, among others. Likewise, the only other encouraging note I could find on Coleman is some scattered session work, but none of it quite holds a torch to this, his insidious plan of putting a black widow spider in the coffee of a former paramour !!!

More soul than blue lit, ya have to hand it to Hooks; it shows a lot of ingenuity where a simple pistol or hatchet would have sufficed.

Have a hot cup of Joe on Mr. Coleman here...just make sure you check the mug for arachnids.

Black Widow Spider - "Hooks" Coleman

The Art of Julio Ruelas

Julio Ruelas (1870-1907)

"We Got a Long Way to Go and a Short Time to Get There."

One of the worlds most underrated guitarists has done gone on. You only wish you were cool enough to be in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

R.I.P. 03/20/37 - 08/31/08

Don't Think Twice It's All Right - Jerry Reed

Suffer the Little Children

Got myself a sweet plum of an after school gig babysitting for dear old Unkle Lancifer and Aunt John over at Kindertrauma.

Even though I was told “Absolutely No friends allowed”, I managed to slip all the brats in my charge some cough medicine and put a keg of ‘Natty Boh’ on standby, so why not stop on over at the ‘Trauma’ ward, pull up a flashlight and let me regale you with tales of the darkest decade I have ever known – the 80’s

Boogedy Boo!!!

"I've Got to Know the Girl in the Miniskirt"

With summer winding down and the coming autumn exuding it’s cooling influence over exposed midriffs and chilly knees alike, the time has invariably come to say goodbye to the minskirt as the come-hither garment of choice for choice chicks.


(sigh) As much as it pains me to say it, there is a definite correlation between the yearly harvest and a very noticeable decrease in the ratio of knee-high boots to pleated Skirts; even stocking are adversely affected.

Though the 'Sunshine State' has never suffered such a seasonal shortage, that didn’t stop California natives ‘The Flower Children’ from making the socially conscious choice and penning this public service announcement extolling the virtues of that ever-present garment.

Simultaneously pressed on both Allied and Castil , all signs point to a 67' release on this, the bands only cut. Once you get passed all the beaded, unwashed activism implied by such a name, 'Flower Children' actually becomes quite apropo, especially when you consider the fact that it sounds like a bunch of kids playing four different songs at once.

A slight technicality when you consider the strong overall message:

"She Did the 'Coffee Grind' and the 'Buffalo Flirt'. That tantalizing temptress in the Miniskirt."

Mini-Skirt Blues - Flower Children

Marching Lovers - Flower Children

Lancelot Link & the Evolution Revolution!!!

Courtesy of T.V. Party:

"Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp debuted on Saturday morning, September 12, 1970 and was an instant hit.

With a cast made up entirely of primates, this live-action series chronicled the comical adventures of secret agent Lance Link; a silly simian version of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. with fur puctuated with Laugh-in style blackouts, cartoons and music breaks.

Together with his female sidekick Mata Hari, the agents from A.P.E. (Agency to Prevent Evil) battled nefarious villains like The Duchess, The Baron, Wang Fu, Dr. Strangemind, Creto, Ali AssaSeen and other colorfully clad agents of C.H.U.M.P..

The narrator for Lance Link was Malanchi Throne, with the apes voiced by Bernie Kopell (Love Boat), Dayton Allen (Winky Dink) and Joan Gerber.

The creators of the program, the writing team of Mike Marmer and Stan Burns, sold ABC on Lancelot Link in part because of their stint writing for the clever spy spoof Get Smart, which had just left the air after five seasons.

Marmer and Burns were known for exceptional work, writing for the best variety programs of the Sixties and Seventies - including Flip, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and, in particular, The Carol Burnett Show, where their infamous Gone With The Wind parody won the duo an Emmy.

The budget for Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp was the highest ever (at that time) for a Saturday series - over a million dollars for a fourteen episode season. The chimps were trained by industry veteran Frank Inn (Petticoat Junction, Benji).

The sets and props were fairly elaborate and many new lighting techniques had to be devised to shoot the dark chimp faces. The best part of the show was the groovy rock band, The Evolution Revolution, whose music videos were at least as pop refreshing as The Archies."

The Art of John Alexander

johnalexanderstudio.com

So Easy Even a Caveman Can Do It!

Well, how about them VRD posts huh? I just wanna take this opportunity to thank JB over at 'The Hits just Keep On Comin' for allotting me a little corner of internet sky to shop my wares. Looking forward to next years swarm.

Now. On to the filthy business at hand.

Several weeks back I began a string of posts who’s common thread had threatened to degenerate into a testosterone fueled orgy highlighting the indiscretions of the fouler of the sexes – namely me. While that was admittedly fine w/ the Devil (He is, after all, a ‘natural man’), I found it prudent to spare the ladies my boorish behavior - far be it from me to offend my female constituency (all two of em’). That said, despite my best efforts, I’m afraid this monster can no longer be contained as it is bursting out of the proverbial button fly as we speak.

In the spirit of scientific inquiry, I give you “I Was a Teenage Caveman”.

Not since Nervous Norvus first opined on the very nature of the Pterodactyl has a record so succinctly summed up the Darwinian plight of the caveman (Only ‘Be a Caveman’ by the Avengers comes close, and even that is way too accessible for consideration).

Most wet brains are familiar w/ this minimalistic masterstroke from the Monster Bop comp, brought to you by the fine people over at Buffalo Bop records (I can never remember if it is Horror Hop or Monster Bop. Sue Me!). Comps aside, I myself scoured for it’s like in the tar pits for what seemed like a Devonian age before finally striking flint several years ago w/ a dealer just this side of Connecticut; and then only to trip over a spare copy at a junk shop right outside of Winston-Salem North Carolina. First single at the top of the stack. Go Figure.

Anywhoo, it should come as no surprise that there is precious little ‘Know’ on Randy Luck, suffice to say that he was undoubtedly torn to peaces by a pack of cave-women w/ a bad case of Dormitory Syndrome upon first air-play. Seriously, you would figure a poet who’s immortal input includes the line “So I smacked her around and I laughed real loud!” would have left some kinda lingering trail, at least a Domestic Disturbance charge, but alas, not a trace remains of Ole’ Lucky save this here fossil.

I can say with some amount of certainty that this pre-historic Rockabilly offering originated in the swamps of Florida - as any throw-back rightly should - on the cusp of 58’. In addition, it is more than plausible to assume the title was a least partly inspired by American International Picture’s ‘Teenage Caveman’ – released the same year – but as for the songs low-key maliciousness, I can only sit back and ponder like I would the meaning of my own existence (i.e. A complete Fucking Mystery.)

The artists intent now lost to time – it sounds like it was recorded by a homeless person w/ a ukulele in the bottom of a mine shaft – I’m gonna have to defer to the record label for this one, the aptly named ‘Art’ being the only true arbiter by which one can hope to judge a song of such…quality?!?! At least its art as I understand the word.

I Was A Teenage Caveman – Randy Luck

Twelve O’clock – Randy Luck

The Blind (Willie) Leading the Blind: VRD 08/12/08

As a child I distinctly remember going to a local garage sale with my mother who, having acquired an obsession with antiques, managed to buy an original Edison Phonograph and a bushel full of wax cylinders under the auspice that she was getting a bargain (@ $20, who's to say she wasn't?). The deal done,that phonograph sat for a number of years before an elderly clockmaker of some repute managed to restore it’s delicate system of gears and springs to some semblance of order. Some might find the expense hardly worth the effort, but where those same people see junk, my mother saw potential; a potential I have seen realized, having had the pleasure of watching this ancient machine spin to life for the first time in ages, and having actually heard it’s tiny bandwidth issue out of the requisite trumpet. Perhaps it is this self-same concept of ambiguous ‘potential’ that makes the search for records worth all the while.

Living, as I do, in the town of Edison New Jersey (Menlo Park is less than 100 yards away), the exploits of one Thomas Alva Edison are close to my heart, as it is in the hearts of any NJ resident with a mind of history. He is our Orvil Wright (if forced to choose between the two brothers) or, if the Ruskies weren't so possessive, then our own Nicoli Tesla. Perhaps he is both those things, that and a dash of Dr. Theremin, a man whose impressive work owes a certain debt, as do those previously mentioned, to the Wizard of Menlo Park.

It is in the spirit of that aforementioned antiquated device, and it’s creator, that I have chosen to dip uncharacteristically deep into the digs to spin something that, while not as old as Mr. Edison's miracle cylinder, is none-the-less, a shinning example of the kind of 'Potential' once regularly lost to the world, now captured for the sake of history and posterity.

"Blind Willie Johnson was born in 1897 near Brenham, Texas (before the discovery of his death certificate, Temple, Texas had been suggested as his birthplace). When he was five, he told his father he wanted to be a preacher, and then made himself a cigar box guitar. His mother died when he was young and his father remarried soon after her death.

It is thought that Johnson was married twice, first to a woman with the same first name, Willie B Harris, and later to a young singer named Angeline, who was the sister of blues guitarist L.C. Robinson. No marriage certificates have yet been discovered. As Angeline Johnson often sang and performed with him, the first person to attempt to research his biography, Samuel Charters, made the mistake of assuming it was Angeline who had sung on several of Johnson's records. However, later research showed that it was Johnson's first wife.

Johnson was not born blind, and, although it is not known how he lost his sight, Angeline Johnson provided the following account to Samuel Charters. She said when Willie was seven his father beat his stepmother after catching her going out with another man. The stepmother then picked up a handful of lye and threw it, not at Willie's father, but into the face of young Willie.

His father would often leave him on street corners to sing for money, where his powerful voice left an indelible impression on passers-by. Legend has it that he was arrested for nearly starting a riot at a New Orleans courthouse with a powerful rendition of "If I Had My Way I'd Tear the Building Down", a song about Samson and Delilah. According to Samuel Charters, however, he was simply arrested while singing for tips in front of a Custom House, by a police officer who misconstrued the title lyric and mistook it for incitement.

Johnson remained poor until the end of his life, preaching and singing in the streets of Beaumont, Texas to anyone who would listen. A city directory shows that in 1944, a Rev W J Johnson, undoubtedly Blind Willie, operated the House of Prayer at 1440 Forrest Street, Beaumont, Texas. This is the same address listed on Blind Willie's death certificate. In 1945, his home burned to the ground. With nowhere else to go, Johnson lived in the burned ruins of his home, sleeping on a wet bed. He lived like this until he contracted pneumonia two weeks later, and died. (The death certificate reports the cause of death as malarial fever, with syphilis as a contributing factor.)In a later interview his wife said she tried to take him to a hospital but they refused to admit him because he was black, while other sources report that, according to Johnson's wife, his refusal was due to his blindness. Although there is some dispute as to where his grave is, members of the Beaumont community have committed to finding the site and preserving it."

Lord, I Just Can't Keep From Crying - Blind Willie Johnson

Keep Your Lamplight Trimmed and Burning - Blind Willie Johnson

In the end it is all about preservation. If you consider momentarily how much music has been lost over the centuries through no fault but the inadequacies of the day's technology, then Thomas Edison's contribution seems all the more poinient. I hope you dig today's sentimental, if not 'long winded' post. Below you will find a link to a number of excellent bloggers celebrating 'Vinyl Record Day 08'. Give em' a whirl.

A Starr is Born!

That 'Harlen County' cut below yonder has put me in a ole' hickory mood as of late, and what better reason to cut a corner piece of this-here Rockabilly classic!

The essence of rockabilly is so indicative of it's region, era and cultural factors, that it seems almost pointless to try and duplicate it's sneer and cock-sure posturing, not that plenty haven't tried. Seeing as how I never could get galvanized over a pale imitation when the genuine article is always ever just a spin away, marvel with me as Mr. Starr, a man who lived every cliche associated with being an Arkansas rube, beats the 'King' (God rest his soul) to the punch w/ this 1956 cut.

Born Franklin Delano Gulledge near Combs, Arkansas, in 1932, he grew up in dire poverty, and was never far from the edge of delinquency, going over the edge, according to scholar Wayne Russell, when he pulled a pistol on a teacher -- by 14, in 1947, he had left school and was riding the rails and living life as a hobo. According to those who knew him, Starr had one talent in those days beyond a knack for survival, and that was playing guitar, something he'd picked up in his abbreviated time at home and never forgotten. He was 17 when the Korean War exploded and he signed up; luckily for him, someone noticed his musical ability and he was assigned to special services rather than to a combat unit, where his fate might have been very different. He formed the Arkansas Plowboys from the ranks of fellow southerners and survived his two years in South Asia, coming out a little bit straighter in life than he'd gone in -- he still drank, sometimes to excess, but he tried regular work in a factory in Kansas before moving to California. There, he and his brothers Bob and Clark formed a new group, also christened the Arkansas Plowboys. Billing himself as Frank Starr, he played lead guitar in the band and soon so outstripped his siblings in skill and seriousness that he left them behind, musically and literally. He packed up for Texas, and in the early 1950's was scratching out a living around Denison for two dollars a night, working some of the worst roadhouses and shanty-town clubs in the state, catering to military personnel and anyone else brave enough to enter -- by some accounts, nights without barfights and flying beer bottles and chairs were rarer than those with. But he hung on and built a reputation for doing an exciting show and generating a hot rockabilly sound, and in 1955 he parlayed a spot on local radio into an audition for Joe M. Leonard Jr., of Lin and Kliff Records. Leonard was impressed enough to cut four sides with Starr, two of which, "Dig Them Squeaky Shoes" and "The Dirty Bird Song (You Can't Hardly Get Them No More)", become his debut single. Although neither his first nor his second singles were hits, Starr managed to get work on the same bills with the likes of Porter Wagoner and Grandpa Jones. He also occasionally wrote songs, including "Rockin' Reelin' Country Style." Then, in 1956, he was forced to change his name -- he and Leonard got word of a performer using the name Frank Starr working out of California, which led to the Arkansas-born singer changing his name to Andy Starr. Joe M. Leonard Jr. was unfazed by the momentary pause, and was prepared to continue recording his most promising rock & roll act. He got Andy Starr placed with MGM Records, which opened his national recording career with the best record of his whole life, "Rockin' Rollin' Stone", co-written by Starr, who also played lead guitar on top of singing -- in the former department, he was no Cliff Gallup, but he had a distinctive style and a very raw, visceral sound. The B-side was the almost equally fine "I Wanna Go South."

Rockin' Rollin' Stone - Andy Starr

I Wanna Go South - Andy Starr