Lovin' Honey

Perhaps not what the 'Ohio Players' had in mind, Morris' 'Honey' first made the rounds on Abeline's own 'Edmoral' label before getting picked up by RCA subsidiary 'Vik' in 57' (Home of Mickey Baker & Sylvia Robinson among others).

'Edmoral' Records, later 'Winston' Records, was originally owned by country legend Slim Willet, '4 Star' recording artist and author of country standard "Don't Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes". Evidently he didn't heed his own advice, as Willet saw enough moxie in Gene Morris to release 'Honey' as well as two subsequent singles by Morris sans Pages ('I Need it' and the awesome 'I Craw Fished') , though none would prove as viable as this sweet little honeycomb enclosed.

Since I ain't got no copy on Morris ( A slight historical oversight, I'm sure) check out the straight jaw on Willet instead.

"Born Winston Lee Moore on Dec. 1, 1919 near Dublin, TX, Willet received a BA degree in journalism in 1949 from the Hardin-Simmons University in Abilene. Following a short stint in the aircraft industry, Willet began broadcasting on Abilene country station KRBC. He remained a popular DJ at the station until 1956. He used his popularity from the radio show to form his first band, the Hired Hands. In 1950 Willet released his first single "Tool Pusher From Snyder." Willet and the Hired Hands made regular appearances on The Big D Jamboree up until 1954 on WFAA in Dallas, as well as becoming as the Louisiana Hayride for four years beginning in 1951. In the early 50's, Willet released a few hit singles on the 4 Star label including "Red Rose," "No Love Song To You," and his biggest record "Don't Let the Stars Get In Your Eyes." By 1954, Willet set up his own label, Winston, releasing sporadic singles over a ten year period culminating with "You're the Only Woman," his final release in 1966. Slim was working full time at KCAD in Abilene, where he was part owner, until his death in 1966 from a heart attack. "

"There is no Bee w/o the sting; Cleverness consists of gathering the honey nevertheless"

Lovin' Honey - Gene Morris w/ the Pages

Chicken Fat: An Impulse Discovery

What can I say? I'm down with the chicken.

Be it 'Greasy Chicken', 'Chicken Crazy' or 'Chicken Strut', I'll eat that shit down to the bone and wear it like a necklace (fat 'n' all).

Today in this clap-board abode we are privy to that rare species of 'Rhode Island Red' that can jump genres from jazz to soul and back again without roostin' too high for the layman to grasp. And in a refreshing turn, we've even got some bonifide skinny on the artist in question:

"Mel Brown (born October 7, 1939, in Jackson Mississippi)is an American blues guitarist. Best known for his decade-plus stint in support of Bobby "Blue" Bland, Brown channeled elements of soul, funk, and jazz to create one of the most distinctive guitar styles in contemporary blues. Brown received his first guitar at the age of 14 while battling meningitis, spending hours each day studying the music of idols like B. B. King and T-Bone Walker from his sickbed. In late 1960, he toured with The Olympics, followed by a two-year tour of duty with Etta James. By 1963 Brown launched a session career, playing on records by everyone from Bobby Darin to Bill Cosby as well as T-Bone Walker's Funky Town album. His contributions so impressed record producer Bob Thiele that he invited Brown to record his own album: 1967's Chicken Fat, a blues-funk outing pairing Brown with fellow guitarist Herb Ellis. A series of impressive LPs including The Wizard, I'd Rather Suck My Thumb, and Big Foot Country Gal followed in quick succession before Brown joined Bland in 1971, appearing on the singer's California Album two years later."

Fresh from the fryer @ 'Vintage Vinyl', we got a big ole' glob o' 'Chicken Fat', and the greasy spoon it came with. You can eat all you like, just so long as you eat what you take.

Chicken Fat - Mel Brown

Greasy Spoon - Mel Brown

"A fleeting moment, but not a frozen moment."

R.I.P. Andrew Wyeth 07/12/17 - 01/16/09







www.andrewwyeth.com

This One Time @ Band Camp...

Cut on Buddah's 'Cobblestone' subsidiary (Same joint which gave us the awesome 'Suicidal Flowers') here we gots a "Flute Thang", and it ain't no 'Blues Project'.

A Sicilian message from the self-professed "Ebony Godfather", 'Comin' Home Baby' ain't quite as frantic as 'Chitlins & Cuchifritos', but w/ a skiff of snow on the cold, cold ground (Did i mention that its cold?), this track packs just enough "Easy Does it" for my low rent tastes.


Feathering jazz luminaries Jiggs Chase on organ, Robby Porter on baritone and Kenny Pollard on drums, you can do worse than givie it a spin, and if you happen to wake up to a horse head in your bed sporting a Kaya Kente Hat (What is w/ my current hat obsession?), just consider it a gift on the day of your daughter's wedding. May your first child be a masculine child.

Comin' Home Baby - The Joe Thomas Group

Hellooo Baaaaby!!!

What's that you say? Big Bopper's coffin for sale! Slightly Used! Half-price! Well hot-diggity!!!

Turn the Key On the Little Tin Soldier

Before you go crownin' your dome piece with a 'Natani Nez' wide-brim and kicking people (Namely Me) in the face, be forewarned that this is NOT the tune made famous in the movie 'Bill Jack'. That would be Coven of 'Witchcraft Destroys Minds & Reaps Souls' fame.

Not about to be outdone by some Kung-Fu injun (or Jinx Dawson for that matter), this fuzzy soul bit is brought to you by the wonderful architect of dance-floor favorite 'The Push', though to be fair, I think this tune has got enough moxie to push right back and then some.

Cut on the 'Jewel' imprint in 67' (Fuck what the label says), 'Soldier' was produced by The great Charlie 'The Best That's Ever Been' Daniels and features a back-up band of 'Jades', though I doubt they are related to either the 'Surfin' Crow' or 'Boomstix' variety. Still, I like to think William Jack would approve.



Oh...and thank you for not kicking me in the face.

Little Tin Soldier - Billy Joe Young

...May Flights of Rat Pfinks Pfink Thee To Thine Rest.

R.I.P. Ray Dennis Steckler



For more info see: The Incredibly Strange Blogger Who Stopped Posting and Became A Mixed-Up Zombie.

Hunka Hunka Burnin' Totalitarianism

ELVIS: King of Rock & Roll Anti-Fascism?!



Courtesy of Instapundit

Gettin' Ready to Gooooo to the Grand Ole' Opry Show!

Been in a country state o' mind these past few weeks, due in no small part to the general cold and ever present greyness that is Mid-Atlantic December. Sorry to say, but we got a good ground-hogs shadow to go before the leghorns molt and a fresh stubble of 'Jack in the Pulpit break ground, so I'm inclined to keep this yodel blue for a bit longer.

Not quite sure how a Jersey boy got Georgia on his mind, but god bless Hub Reynolds and Somerville New Jersey's own WGW records for waxing this here cousin-humpin'country bopper.

I've been combing the quaint suburbs of Somerville for awhile now, half expecting to turn up more choice cuts on this local favorite of a record label, but as of this writing this is the only example to be found in the field, though specimens frequently show up online @ arm/leg prices.

Perhaps most famous for their release of the BFTG classic 'Love's a Fire' by the Werps (Horns and all), WGW has seen a lot of strange and noteworthy recordings come out of the surrounding sprawl, including such acts a UGE, the Apostles and Leather Apple (not that anyones ever heard of them).

Wish I could tell you more about this particular release, but with history so tight lipped about the comings and goings of WGW records, wishes just aren't horses today, but if they were, I'd hitch em' up and hit that Georgia farm.

Georgia Farm - Hub Reynolds

Two Days a Week - Hub Reynolds

Riding Shotgun! pt 2

Finally got around to slicking up last months coach gun. Took the Stoeger down to it's bones and applied some valve-grinding compound before workin' the action to something approaching acceptable tolerance. Polished the chambers with ought-four steel wool/break-free and slapped on a Galco leather cheek pad (Good quality -by-the-by) replete with five rounds of buckshot.

Only ever an arms length away.

Baby Jesus, Please Make It Stop!!!

Ummm...I'll let this one speak, or rather, caterwaul for itself.

Picture of Mommy Twisting With Santa - Little Cori



If your ears happen to stop bleeding long enough, have a Happy Holiday / Non-denominational seasonal celebration of which I make no faith-based implication in the interests of spiritual equality (sigh).

Just In Case You Forgot the True Meaning of Christmas...

Riverbottom Nightmare Band!!!

In A Recession...

If you think its "the thought that counts" then you got another "Think" commin. Seriously though, if you are looking for some last minute gift ideas for this here RedBoy, keep in mind that I take a 42' length shirt, size 10' shoes, or, you could do a sight worse than rustling me up some more country cuts like the one enclosed.

Take a cracklin' cue from the 'haze' here, "Please be careful. Get there on time. Last minute shoppers must wait in line."

Last Minute Shopping - Eddie Hazelwood

Shot Four Times and Dy'in.

Ya know, it's just like a Oakie screw to give you a runnin' start and then shoot you in the back - Four times no less.

Well, that's still more accurate then the NYPD @ any rate.

Born 1929 in Eagletown, Ark, Bill Carter was a regular on KBOX outta Modesto before the rock and roll bug took a big bite outta the cowboy circuit. Perhaps best known for the insane cut 'Baby Brother', Carter proves here in this 61' 'Tennessee Two' inspired track that despite the the tug of progress, there is still a little somethin' to be said for the squelch of the train and a liberal application of .38 Long Colt provided that one does not find themselves in front of either.

"Bill Carter was a native of Eagleton, Arkansas, but his family moved to Broken Bow, Oklahoma when he was eight years old. In 1943, the Carter family, (who were a farming family) moved out west to California to the town of Idaho, which was where Bill got his start as a professional singer.

He got his first how over station KREO, where he performed until entering the U.S. Air Force in 1950. Even while in the service, he managed to keep up his singing while stationed in San Antonio, Texas.

1952 saw him transferred to a military base near the Bay area in northern California. There, he met up with folks such as Cottonseed Clark and Big Jim De Noon. When he was discharged in 1953, he had a recording contract with the 4 Star label. He also appeared a few times on Cottonseed Clark's television show called "The Hoffman Hayride".

Shot Four Times and Dy'in - Bill Carter

Consistency: The Hobgoblin of a Small Mind?

Well…it was inevitable. Punk had to die sometime. There is no way you can sustain that amount of nihilism without one day questioning your prospects (Dope or Law school?). Like any transition, it was always gonna get worse before it got better: what was once loosely focused anger turning into arty, non-linear existentialism before hatching New-Wave like a neon marshmallow peep. The hippies did it before, but where they so fully turned their back on their granola-eating tenants and embraced capitalism, your average retired punk still, despite the best efforts of upper-management, retains that irreverent shine that makes the movement so appealing after so many years - either that or they join/start a rockabilly band.

So if you, dear reader, like me, bemoan the compromising of principals which are now a luxury one can’t rightly afford, then dig this little road map of a post-punk landscape circa 79-87. You can still not shower if you like. Just make sure you show up to work on time.



The Mad - Sick!

Long before it became quaint to have an unintelligible Asian guy fronting your combo, NYC's Screamin' Mad George was out and about, rollin around on the floor in leathers and making incorrect use of the article "a", as in "I've got a syphilis". While not as good as 'I Hate Music', I don't own that one ($700 bucks my white ass!) so...


Wild Kingdom - The Way to Love

Great demo-tape track plucked from obscurity by the folks @ Boston's Throbbing Lobster Records for inclusion in their legendary series of comps. Why this track never became bigger than clam-chowder and baked beans, I'll never know, but it certainly is tastier, and less apt to give you botulism.



Rhino 39 - Marry It

This is the So-Cal band that got punk legends TSOL into the game, and if that don't get your attention...









The Pop Group - Thief of Fire

Circa 79' Dub-Punk (?!?!) straight outta Bristol. Best known for their collaboration w/ the Slits, this 'Group' is so arty they crap Picassos. That's OK though, cause unlike most cerebral acts, they are rather innovative and not in a "Look at me, I have a cello!" kinda way.





The Waitresses - The Comb

Since Christmas is now upon us like a pall of doom you might as well just become resigned to the fact that you are gonna hear that fuckin' Waitresses Christmas song transmitted in the fillings of you teeth from now till the end of advent. It might, however, help you to know that before they knew what boys liked , they were too busy shakin' their asses to give a shit.



The Birthday Party - Kiss Me Black

Everyone has been singing the praises of the new Nick Cave album for months, but I really don't dig it. It seems to me that he dumbed down all his lyrics over the course of the last several years to make them more accessible, but hey, I have a thesaurus and a King James bible. I can hang. Here we find Nick @ his least verbose, though I think it might be a dope thing, and less an ironic departure from preconceived tenants of genre. Still, it works.

Editor's note: Apparently Ed Roth, having designed the cover for 'Junkyard', was appalled at how the album's lyrics offended his Christian sensibilities. 'I stuck a six-inch gold blade in the head of a girl' indeed.


Guided Missles - I Used to be a Rock & Roller

A pseudo New-Wavy band from my neck o' the land (New Brunswick NJ), this track is kinda corny, but the sentiment seems extremely poignant when you consider the over-all death of the bar scene (R.I.P Melody Bar / Roxy), and the inevitable move towards more "grown-up" endeavors (again, dope or Law School?).

Editor's Note: Sorry. Didn't feel like taking a picture of the cover (I'm lazy). You didn't miss much.


The Shirts - Lonely Android

The Shirts are one of those CB's bands that just never made the cut. I guess they were too progressive for the Dead-boys crowd and had too many guitars where 'Television' was concerned.

Concerning CB's: Now that its gone, there is this weird mystique about it, but if you've ever hung your head-piece there, then you know that the booze is lousy, there is that one mutant step near the shitter which you always tripped over, and if there ever were a fire, you would surely be trampled by people trying to force there way though the chained-up fire exit before you even had a chance to burn to death.

Somehow I doubt that the re-dux they are planning in Vegas will embrace those quaint little touches.


The New Math - Borrowed Time (???)

I think that's the name of the song anyways. It's the last tune on Side: A of the 'Gardens' EP but there is no track listing, so I am gonna use the age old method of picking out the most oft used refrain and go with it. Perhaps best known for as the architects of 'Love under Will' offa the ROTLD soundtrack (Credited as the 'Jet Black Berries'), this band is a great example of the pop sensibilities that finally brought punk to its inevitable end.


Click Link Below for Download


Blues for the RedBoy Presents: The Class of 87 Mix

A Thanksgiving Tradition!

Only the country which gave us rock 'N' roll and the teenage identity (For better or worse) could bring Boogey Men and Giant Apes together in the interests of a National Holiday observance.

Here's to having not grown up in some shit-hole third-world death factory. Salute!

Side Dish

When it comes to Thanksgiving dinner, I am a compartmentalist. What I mean is I cannot allow certain side dishes to intermingle. Understand, it is not that I am specieist when it comes to my food, its just that I am particular (see: crazy) and will not stand for the sullying of an annual meal, especially one as momentous as that which celebrates our total victory over those evil buffalo-humping savages who so callously stole all our small-pox blankets. Under no circumstances can sweet potatoes commingle with mashed potatoes, and likewise interact with my grandmother's orange/carrot Jell-o (Its better than it sounds - trust me). Bread is cool - it pretty much keeps to itself unless it's services are enlisted in some form of dipping or sopping. Gravy is one of the exceptions to the rule, as it effortlessly traverses the side dish barrier (see: Bread), thus bringing corn, stuffing and potatoes together in a thick slurry of carbo-goodness. And then there are cranberries...

Cranberries hold as special place in the hearts of New Jerseyeans. Much like corn, eggplant and tomatoes, Cranberries are a crop which is quintessentially 'Jersey' in nature (Sorry middle America, but your corn sucks). After all, cranberries require the down home charm of a bog for cultivation, and what is New Jersey besides a loose confederation of criminal enterprises separated by vast stretches of swamp.

As such, we of the garden State take cranberries very seriously. Nary is there another side dish, neither fruit nor vegetable which required its own separate plate, less it's acidic goodness spoil so much soul-food. Should one fail to observe such ritual, they would surely find themselves cursed with pink potatoes (not to be confused with mashed turnips) or - worse yet - fruity gravy...and that my friends is the very definition of Cranberry blues.

Cranberry Blues - Robert Williams & the Groovers

Riding Shotgun!

One can find the most marvelous sundries at one's local shopping-mall.



Stoeger Coach Gun SXS 12 Gauge (Fixed Chokes): While rather stiff in the joints fresh outta the box (Who isn't?), this equalizer should whistle Dixie with a little elbow grease (Polished chambers, reduced tension spring, etc...).

Now all we need is a rawhide sling and an English stock and we are in-the-pocket!

From the Halcyon Days of Yester-yore...

Witness the glory that is Count Fang-Burger and the dreaded Wolf-Burger!

Courtesy of my no-good brother.

One If By Land! Two If By Turntable!

Do you know what it's like to search the interwebs for the terms 'Spirit of 76' and 'Revolution' in tandem? I'll give you a hint - Fuckin' nightmare! Coupled w/ the fact that the A:side is called 'The Ballad of Ethan Allen' and you can just about fully fathom how much of a hens tooth this 68' disc is turning out to be. As the flip implies, Revere's Raiders were pretty soundly aped for this enterprise. No doubt riding boots and ruffled shirts were involved in some capacity.

Yeah, it sounds like It was recorded inside a tri-cornered hat, but beneath the fog of war is some top-notch guitar work in this militia's call to arms. Imitation being the sincerest, yadda, yadda, yadda this soulful track packs a patriot punch right below your rifle sling. Better cup your 'Dragoons'!

Note: I think we'll save the A:side for a season a little more 'Rocket's Red Glare-ish'.

Call on Me - The Spirit of 76' Music Revolution