Here's Your Dollar Back

Blindfold Test #18

F.R. David gets dizzy to the Eurobeat.

Too typically, I use only 30% of a 10-point scale in my scores below. Less typically, 20% of the songs have no words. There is also more than the usual amount of punk rock, namely the early (pre-’79) kind, including two bands fronted by fanzine editors and one band I assume is British for the second consecutive time even though they come from Detroit. Plus three rock bands where instrument-playing musicians attempt to sing doo-wop, with notably mixed results. And one song from the 21st Century, which I’m fairly certain never happened before.

Any parade would be lucky to employ Prakash Band’s P.A. system.

Prakash Band “Tequila“ (on 1994 Avant Japan compilation Disco Bhangra – Wedding Bands From Rajasthan; septet from Jaipur, Rajasthan, India): Whistling, then clomping, almost a clavé rhythm. Or is it a polka? A silly kind of Eastern European Mexican hat dance with a clippity clopping undertow. A drunken jam session at a wedding that speeds up as it goes, and keeps sounding like it’s about to kick into “Tequila.” It’s never hard to hear the Polish-German influence on Mexican music, what with accordions brought to the New World from the old country, but maybe this is Polish-Germans reclaiming it? 7.5

F.R. David “Givin’ It Up” (on Words, 1982, and The Best of F.R. David, 1988; French Europop singer born in Tunisia): Art-funk opening reminds me of something off David Bowie’s Scary Monsters, but then there’s what seems to be a familiar blue-eyed-soul lite-radio-rock voice. Not Daryl Hall, who was my first thought; maybe John Waite? He’s giving up your love for sure, getting closer to the shore. And he’s not whoever I thought he was. More likely some much more minor rock character, from Europe or Canada. Pleasant enough but mainly meh. 5

Kilburn & the High Roads “Twenty Tiny Fingers (Sore Throat Mix)“ (on expanded 1999 reissue of Handsome from 1975; “Pub rock band formed in London by Ian Dury in 1970” [Wikipedia]): It stomps, it shuffles, and I know right away it’s Ian Dury’s pre-new-wave pub rock band, doing some jitterbug rockabilly. And this is their “twenty tiny fingers, twenty tiny toes, two angel faces, with a turned up nose” one — best song about being a new parent of twins I’ve ever heard; also maybe the only one.”One’s like his mommy, with the cutest little curl on top. The other one’s got a big bald spot, he’s acting like his pop” — which is followed and rhymed by this tortuously cloying “bop bop bop buh-buh-buh bop!” that’s like fangs on a chalkboard. Otherwise, a fun glam-era throwback to ’50s rock’n’roll that doesn’t sound like the old stuff per sé, even despite its saxophone. Dury does try some high Little Richard shrieks, but especially when he does so, his Cockney music-hall burr is way hoarser than Mr. Penniman ever was. 6.5

The Cravats wish all of us out here in TV Land a Holly Jolly Christmas.

The Cravats “Live For Now” (from In Toytown, 1980; “neo-dadaist group from Redditch, UK” [discogs]): Fast hardcore-speed punk, British, which I guess might make this oi! except for the goofy little interjected honk sounds — which turn out to be, I think, horns of some sort, and feel incongruous in a good way in that they short-circuit what might have risked sounding self-serious. Hardcore-length too; very short. Not sure I understood a word, which might be a good thing. 6

Junei “Let’s Ride” (single B-side, 1987, included on 2023 Soul Jazz UK compilation Space Funk 2 [Afro Futurist Electro Funk In Space 1976-84]; electronic alter ego of Gary, Indiana r&b guitarist Willie Lee, Jr.): Sparkling synths into electronic, possibly key-tarred funk, early ’80s probably. Actually the swirling on top seems to come from guitars (unless that‘s the keytar?) The instrumental intro is extended, but also funky, functional, fun…and, you ultimately realize, unfortunately all there is. Mainly just an instrumental electrobass vamp, which could’ve supported something if provided something to support. 5.5

Jah Wobble/The Edge/Holger Czukay, “Sleazy” (from Snake Charmer EP, 1983; moonlighting members of Public Image Ltd., U2 and Can): Cutting surf-rock guitars, cruising speedily over a simple and clear but bashing drum sound, then rattling percussion. Another instrumental, I guess. Guitar resembles those early ’80s jangling anthem bands, what Robert Christgau used to call groove bands (a mild pejorative suggesting they had a sound but not really songs); I’d situate this groove to the left of U2/Big Country but still to the right of Dream Syndicate/Mission of Burma. Almost an echo of “Pride (in the Name of Love)” in there, but way more feedback and distortion. Plus a funk bassline, and space sounds from…something somewhere. 6

Peter Godwin “Torch Songs for the Heroine“ (single, 1981, collected on Images of Heaven, 1998; UK synth-pop artist and former member of Metro): British non-singer whispers blankly that “the love she feels inside is a warning,” but sometimes a stranger surprises you and sweeps you away with something more noble than gold, or some gibberish along those lines, and sometimes it’s strangely exciting to be swept off your feet by the beat of your heart yadda yadda. He’s entirely interchangeable with countless post-Ferry/Bowie Brit mewlers of the ’80s and later; I’m thinking David Gahan but I’m sure it’s not him — more likely it’s somebody with even less personality! “Torch songs for the heroin(e),” he seems to say, and “love is more sacred than skin.” Clearly shooting for decadence, in a way I generally find somewhere between tiresome and annoying. As I generally do here as well. 5

Gid Tanner & his Skillet Lickers “The Girl I Left Behind Me“ (78-RPM 10-inch single, 1927; collected on 2000’s Complete Recorded Works In Chronological Order: Volume 1 1926-1927 and the 2012 box set Gid Tanner And The Skillet Lickers; Georgia old-timey hillbilly string band): An extreme oldie about the “pretty little girl” the singer left behind — fairly certain Bob Wills & the Texas Playboys covered it, but this version’s a string-band barn-dance hoedown, not yet jazzed enough to count as Western Swing. The fiddle’s in the forefront, proficiently sawing out rhythm. And there’s an off-key woman behind the leading man, not uncommon in this sort of music. 6.5

Ray Sharpe often crouched to shrink his strike zone.

Ray Sharpe “Linda Lu“ (single, 1959, collected on Texas Boogie Blues, 1980, Gonna Let It Go This Time, 2011, and other anthologies; Black Fort Worth rockabilly and r&b singer/songwriter/guitarist): “Well they call my baby Betty, but her real name is Linda Lou” — blues for teeange rock’n’rollers and maybe by one, with phrasing that for some reason reminds me of Dion DiMucci, who may have come before this or after. The singer’s roving days are over and he’s all set to wed Betty aka Linda this weekend. How he repeats lines three or four times feels structurally straight-up blues, and he does it a lot, even oddly effective whole-word stutters like “yousaidyousaidyousaid.” Guitar when it enters at the end, too, is straight blues. For the youngins. 6.5

Kashif “I Just Gotta Have You“ (single and on Kashif, 1983, and The Best of Kashif, 1992; Harlem-born singer, songwriter, producer, synthesizer player and former member of B.T. Express): More ’80s style electronic funk, but more pop r&b than the earlier example. VideoSoul music, a sound and production style I weirdly most associate with being stationed at Fort Knox, Kentucky, just outside Elizabethtown, in spring 1986, in the waning months of my short Army career. A contemporary of Luther Vandross asking some “lover” to call him up and make him hers, doing what he sets out to do if not in a way you’ll write home about. Still, quite possibly the best singing so far in this particular batch of songs. A whole lot of turning on going on, even if it can’t match the inexorable energy of peak Luther. 6.5

I dunno, that Agitation Freedom fighter on the left looks pretty agitated to me.

Agitation Free “Rücksturz“ (from معليش / Malesch, 1972; psychedelic Berlin space-rock band that toured Egypt, played at the 1972 Olympics in Munich, and provided early members to Guru Guru and Tangerine Dream): Opening has that funereal piano air of Aerosmith’s “Dream On” and all its progeny (Supertramp “Breakfast in America,” Kix “Don’t Close Your Eyes”, No Doubt “Don’t Speak”), then a kind of dark psychedelic blues rock guitar melody over comparably dirgelike post-Bonham drums. Swirls as it builds, but then it suddenly stops: yet another instrumental! I honestly thought my phone froze. 6

The Vice Creems “01-01-212“ (single B-side and on Cherry Red/Zig Zag UK Business Unusual (The Other Record Collection) compilation, both 1978; Aylesbury, UK punk band fronted by ZigZag magazine editor and future rock biographer Kris Needs): More British working class punk; starts with dirty jangling fuzz and backup chanters going “shooop shoop shoop doo-waaaah” then somebody reciting what I guess might be a phone number — 0101212 — except I know nothing about how phone numbers work in the UK, besides that apparently you dial 99999 instead of 911 in case of an emergency. (Learned that from the Clash, and Girlschool, and duh 999.) If those are phone digits, seems like they might belong to someone named Peggy Sue, presumably a Buddy Holly reference. Because though the singer cackles like Johnny Rotten, there’s rock’n’roll in the guitar breaks (among elsewhere), and I actually like the shoop-dee-doops better than in the Ian Dury number above. At the end there’s a busy signal, which would seem to support my phone # hypothesis. 6.5

Temper “No Favors“ (single, 1984, collected on Essential Music Group streaming compilations Old School Freestyle Mega Jams Vol. 1 from 2007 and Guido Classics Vol. 2 from 2013; NYC-based dance r&b production duo featuring Cleveland Wright III and future Anthony and the Camp leader Anthony Malloy): Dance r&b, probably ’80s, maybe a British descendent of Hot Chocolate and contemporary of Linx and Junior and Imagination given its West Indian tinge especially on the bridge, but more bitter than the genre’s norm. For a few seconds there I had it pegged for an early boy band instead. Synthesizer starts out somewhat siren-like, and the emotional complexities are just as alarming: “You think I owe you and I think you got some nerve. Don’t do me no favors.” From what I can tell, a woman relies on the singer to pay the bills on time, won’t let him sleep at night because she expects him to blow her mind. But he relied on her too, to get him back on his feet. At one point, he says he hears a false album — maybe that’s the siren? He seems to admit to being broke, or close to it, or he used to be, but insists it doesn’t matter: “What money can not do, I do for you with charm.” So he’s kind of full of himself, and unusually for r&b of its apparent era (give or take maybe Oran “Juice” Jones), I don’t even know if he’s supposed to be likable. Either way, economic transactions are clearly at play. “I can love you but I can’t make you a star,” he sneers. “Here’s your dollar back I don’t want no more change. ” By the end, the synths mimic that high-pitched squealing sound you hear in the summer, reported to be caused by cicadas or mole crickets. 7.5

Mar Otra Vez “Miercoles Cercano Al Infierno“ (single and on Algún Paté Venenoso, 1987; Madrid art-rock band): Back to guitar rock, but this time delivered by a harsh guttural male singer in what seems to be a romance language. Litfiba from Italy, maybe. Kicks hard and heavy, but more fluid than metal or punk; there’s a swing, especially to the drums, and elaborate full-throated vocal phrasing that comes off romantic but puffed up with machismo, rough, gruff and probably pissed off. Ends (or you think it will) with a raging roar, then the band picks back up and the drummer starts charging and swinging again. 7

Instant Funk wore many hats but should’ve avoided Beatles covers.

Instant Funk “Hard Day’s Night“ (single and on Instant Funk V, 1983; Philadelphia via Trenton, New Jersey soul-funk-disco band): At first I thought it was just a interpolation of “Hard Day’s Night” into somebody’s rubber-rhythm r&b original, and maybe I could have lived with that. But then it turned into an actual who-cares cover. The singer clearly has soul music in his genetic makeup, but the drumbeat feels depressingly pre-programmed and not particularly funky about it. Doesn’t take long to realize it’s just a perfunctory remake of an overplayed classic. Most interesting thing is the liberties taken with the chorus at the start, when it’s not obviously a cover yet. Might stand out more if the singer, who is fine despite interjecting asides like “yes I have!” for no reason, had a tangible band behind him. Ultimately, I wonder why they bothered. By the way, don’t some people call this a masturbation song? Pretty sure Dave Marsh put it on the imaginary Onan’s Greatest Hits compilation he wrote his Stranded essay about. A hard day’s night and working like a dog instead of sleeping like a log indeed. Never the world’s biggest Beatles expert, I’m pretty sure when I was 10 or 11 I thought it was by Three Dog Night. 4.5

Razzy and the Neighborhood Kids “I Hate Hate” (single, 1974, collected on Razzy Bailey’s Sparks, 1981 and Blues Juice, 1989, and the digital-only American Honey soundtrack, 2016; blue-eyed soul studio band fronted by Alabama-born future country star Bailey): Soul organ and talked vocals introduce a record that I promptly recognize as “I Hate Hate” by Razzy Bailey, who later became a major country hit maker in the ’80s. He laments “hate going on between the right and the left,” and “the young and the old”; “we hate our brothers yes we do and we hate our own self.” This was after years of Vietnam and Watergate, and heck yeah “polarization is bad” and “why can’t we all get along” are cornball platitudes if you don’t explain why we’re polarized and not getting along. Also hey guess what, just maybe one’s side more at fault. But none of that matters much here. This just plain sounds like prime beach music soul, complete with children singing along intermittently all through, and handclaps. It would have fit right in alongside the Intruders’ “Cowboys to Girls” and Mel & Tim’s “Backfield in Motion” and Brenton Wood’s “Oogum Boogum Song,” all from a few years before. I have no doubt that Bailey could have passed for Black at the time, and maybe did; there are probably still “Northern Soul” fanatics in England who think he was. No idea how his politics turned out — he died in 2021, after a Covid-19 diagnosis, and a few years after the movie American Honey revived this song. But I don’t doubt that he at least once hated hate and loved love. And his later country hits, including covers of “In the Midnight Hour” and “Knock on Wood,” suggest he loved Stax just as much. 7.5

Fred Eaglesmith “Johnny Cash“ (from 6 Volts, 2011; Caistor Centre, Ontario alt-country/Americana singer-songwriter): Swamp country blues guitar turns surprisingly heavy, even ungainly, really fast. Reminds me of one of Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s heavy dirges, appropriate for lyrics about burying somebody deep in the ground. The singer scolds us, I think, for listening to heavy metal back in 1989 when one Johnny’s career was failing, but now “the radio station plays him all the time” because “he sang the Nine Inch Nails” — by that point it’s clear the Johnny is Cash. I was slow figuring that out. Haven’t a clue who this artist could be; best guess from all the clues would be Drive By Truckers, though I’m not sure they ever would have churned this loud after I mostly stopped paying attention a couple decades ago. It definitely seems like the kind of song they could have done, at one time. To be honest I have trouble getting too worked up about people underestimating a sainted singer I’ve always thought was universally overestimated — especially in his leaden late-years comeback phase. So I’m wondering whether the concept here is even more ponderous than the slow, steady plod. Which isn’t to say they don’t pull it off. 7

Bog-Shed “Slave Girls“ (from Let Them Eat Bog-Shed EP, 1985; Hebden Bridge, UK, post-punk band): Itchy scratchy start, then high yelps followed by a low yawn; who knows what they’re going on about? True forward motion, though. “Slide balls”? “Slide bells”? Oh okay, “slave girls”! As in the Lime Spiders song. Hopefully not as in “Brown Sugar.” Repetitive, panicked, simple but eccentric, with an extremely fuzzed-up vocal. “This week the sculptor’s apprentice…” Pretty sure this is Bog-Shed, who are a confusing hoot as always. 7

Cinecyde are so bored with Detroit radio, but what can they do?

Cinecyde “Gutless Radio“ (single, 1977, compiled on You Live A Lie, You’re Gonna Die, 1995; Detroit “punk garage new wave band” [discogs]): A repeated riff, somehow reminds me of “Lazybone” by Shonen Knife, gains weight after a minute or two, then returns to a more relaxed jangle. Drums are rudimentary, but take their turn. Singer is a high nasal seemingly British punk or post-punk, seemingly saying he doesn’t have time for the radio. Somebody in the vicinity of the Only Ones or Buzzcocks or 999 or Adverts. Mix is just blurry all around. 6.5

Fantom “Faithful“ (single and on Virgin UK Paris Is Sleeping – Respect Is Burning and Caroline Source Lab 3 compilations, all 1997, then on Daft Punk’s 2009 Digital Decks DJ mix album; “French house music project” [discogs]): Thump thump thump techno with a train whistle out of “Trans Europe Express” or Telex’s “Moskow Diskow”; could be ’70s disco or any synth-dance era thereafter. Intermittent “toot toooooooot!”s give way to a “ha ha” chuckle, repeating just like the train did, over the same infinite electronic pulse. Then the train whistles return as other dinky doo-dads, details, ripples and decorative touches blink in and out, woo wooooooo!…A pleasant enough ride on the rails but we never reach our destination. The longer it goes without a song, the longer it stays instrumental in other words, the more I’m ready to wager that it’s ’90s not ’70s or even ’80s. By the end, we’re back where we started. Damn track ran in a circle! 6

SRC “By Way of You“ (from Traveler’s Tale, 1970, compiled on The Revenge Of The Quackenbush Brothers, 1996, and Black Sheep, 2000; Birmingham, Michigan, psychedelic rock band): Dark and stark ’60s garage punk. “Many ti-yi-yi-yimes I’ve walked alone, searching for a place called home” …actually no, make that early ’80s pre-thrash/ pre-hair heavy metal, recorded on a minimum-wage budget then self-released on 7-inch vinyl. You are the one, you are the wonnnnnn…” Menacing chords in a very early Black Sabbath mode. “By way of youuuuuu….” Really, this does demonstrate how little space there was between ’60s rock and ’80s metal. Could be either, or any style intermediate that matter. No matter when they came out, these guys definitely played in more garages than arenas. 6.5

Afrika Korps: No Rommell worship implied. I hope.

The Afrika Korps “Juvenile Delinquent“ (from archival Live At Cantone’s 1977, released 2002 — studio version was on Music to Kill By, 1977; Washington, D.C. “proto punk / garage rock band” [discogs] featuring Marine lance corporal Kenne Highland, of fleeting Gizmos and Gulcher magazine mini-fame): Yet more punk rock — horribly unproduced, possibly recorded live. A guy sings through a microphone covered with five layers of beer-soaked napkins, and he’s drooling all over it, soaking it more, hoping he doesn’t get electrocuted, plus the acoustics stink. Actually makes the punktoon about radio three songs back sound slick in comparison. Thing is, the rawness does not make this more convincing or furious, in any way. Not saying this was on purpose, necessarily. These fellows may well have never set foot in a studio. Claps at end do confirm it was live, too. Actually, the extraneous chatter then (“oooh la la!”) stands as the most entertaining part. 4.5

The Buckinghams “Susan” (single, 1967, on Portraits, 1968, then later band anthologies such as Greatest Hits, 1969, and Mercy, Mercy, Mercy [A Collection], 1990; Chicago pop-rock band): Sweet mid ’60s bubble-rock where the singer seems to be in love with…a loser? As in, “Loser, it looks like I’m losin’, losin’ my mind…” And “Loser, I-eye looove you.” The male lead says no other girl could ever take Loser’s place while his bandmates do doo-wopppish dit-dit-dit-waaah backup that sounds completely natural here because that’s just what bandmates are supposed to do, right? It’s in the job description! They even go a cappella at one point. Band, vocal group, what’s the dif? 7

Chilly “Simply a Love Song” (single, 1981, on Secret Lies, 1982, and We Are The Popkings … And Other Hits, 2011; “German Eurodisco/ rock band” [ Wikipedia]): Glittering intro could be a ’90s Eurodance track, but once the singing starts it’s pleading ’60s crooner-schlock romance “written for you from my heart,” albeit carried by a revolving beat. Weirdly, the singer seems to be talking about having composed somebody a love song, but he asks her to read it, not hear it. An EZ-listening break reminiscent of the ballet-dancer music box on your grandma’s dresser is probably the pinnacle, but the the whole thing’s got uplift to it. Honestly, it could be Europop not ’60s pop, simply because Europop is a rare place where the dated schmaltz this draws on stayed alive and viable decades after the ’60s ended. 6.5

The United States of America “Hard Coming Love“ (from The United States of America, 1968; L.A. “experimental/psychedelic rock/avant-garde/acid rock/proto-prog” band [Wikipedia]): By far the most free-jazzy music on this playlist, though I’m guessing this is a rock band (post-punk maybe) getting wild and wooly, with a blatting saxophone as the lead voice. The sax calms down and gets sickly, then turns into something much airier as a woman’s voice starts up — Janis Joplin/Grace Slick belting, well not that great obviously but in the same tough tradition, and not settling for easy hooks. A third section turns trippy, then a fourth into zoomy moonrocket music, upon which the frontwoman (who’d left) returns. Every time you expect it’ll end, it just changes, until it actually does end, how it started — free and jazzy. 7

Okay, so maybe Susan wasn’t a loser after all.

Eliminated for Reasons of Space, 30 August 2024