The late Hugo Chavez’ legacy is better eulogized by historians and journalists than by myself; the creation of a coherent narrative for a man who spearheaded one of the great social democratic projects in history, while simultaneously instituting problematic civil rights policies, is far too ambitious for my pedestrian socialist observations.

What I do feel comfortable talking about, however, is the “Otro Beta” (roughly “a new thing”) campaign of last year, which promoted the then 58-year-old Chavez as a young “tough guy” from the barrio. The campaign intended to court the working class youth vote by using the language and experiences of the barrio to talk up Chavez. This produced some particularly strange political art depicting the president popping a wheelie on a motorcycle, rapping in hip-hop fashions, and slam-dunking a basketball.

To me it seems no more absurd or desperate than Bill Clinton playing the sax on The Arsenio Hall Show—but then again, Bill Clinton actually did play saxophone on The Arsenio Hall Show. Maybe George W. Bush “working his ranch” is a more comparable fabricated political identity?
 

 
It is said that April is the cruelest month. But for fans of the The Dave Clark Five, February is a real bitch. Two members Rick Huxley (bass) and Mike Smith (vocals,keyboards) died in February. Huxley, 72, died from emphysema this past February 11. Smith, 64, died of a chest infection in February of 2008.

There was a time in my teens when I was a bigger fan of The Dave Clark Five than The Beatles. The Five’s propulsive energy and hard edge was a heavier alternative to the Beatles’ sweetness. Mike Smith’s vocals were tough, aggressive and soulful. Huxley in tandem with drummer Dave Clark created a massive back beat. Tom toms and bass: a marriage made in rock ‘n’ roll heaven.

Here’s a video clip of The Dave Clark Five performing one of their lesser known tunes, “Inside And Out.” It’s not characteristic of their signature sound (it’s downright Beatlesque), but it features Smith’s singing at its finest and a tasty bass line by Huxley.
 

 
The quiet Beatle was born on this day in 1943. Harrison died on November 29, 2001 at the age of 58.

Below, George Harrison and heavy friends performing “Wah Wah” (a song about dealing with Paul McCartney’s ego) at the famous Concert for Bangladesh, 1972:
 

 
“Kevin Ayers’ talent is so acute you could perform major eye surgery with it.”
—John Peel

Sad to hear that founding Soft Machine member, Kevin Ayers, one of the most important characters in the history of psychedelic rock, has died at the age of 68. The singer-songwriter guitarist passed away at his home in the French village of Montolieu.

During his career that spanned five decades, Ayers worked with the likes of Brian Eno, John Cale, Syd Barrett, Elton John, Nico, Robert Wyatt, Andy Summers and Gong.

Fun fact: Kevin Ayers is “The bugger in the short sleeves fucked my wife” who is referred to in John Cale’s “Guts.” Cale caught them the night before the famous June 1, 1974 recording.

“Eleanor’s Cake (Which Ate Her)”:
 

 
The gorgeous “The Lady Rachel” from 1970’s Joy of a Toy album:
 

 
In this clip taken from the POP2 TV series, Ayers (who obviously spoke French pretty fluently in that plummy public school voice of his) performs in Paris at Taverne De L’Olympia, sometime in May of 1970. Supporting the release of his second solo album, Shooting at the Moon, Ayers plays with The Whole World, a group that included a young Mike Oldfield on bass, avant-garde classical composer David Bedford on keyboards (Bedford had orchestrated Ayers’ Joy of a Toy record previously), and the great jazz saxophonist, Lol Coxhill.
 

 
Reg Presley, frontman of The Troggs, died today. The cause was cancer. He was 71.

In remembrance of Reg, I’d like to share something from the Dangerous Minds archives: Hilarious, profane and oddly sweet, this is The Troggs Tapes, the sound of a band struggling to get it just right.

Among musicians, the The Troggs Tapes is the gold standard of rock and roll memes. As band members Reg, Dennis, Tony and Ronnie desperately try to nail a take of a song, they progressively melt down, bickering, ranting, and collectively uttering more “fucks” than Tony Montana in Scarface. The tapes are claimed to have been a source of inspiration for This is Spinal Tap.

Here’s a groovy unattributed anecdote which, whether true or not, illustrates the mythology connected to this iconic recording;

Ron Wood was doing some studio work with Bob Dylan and over the course of the gig played Dylan the “Troggs Tapes”. Not unnaturally, Dylan thought they were very funny.

It turned out that Troggs singer Reg Presley was working in an adjacent studio making a demo for a commercial.

When Wood discovered this, he approached Dylan all excited, saying “Remember that guy on the tape I played you? Well, he’s next door right now!”

Dylan says, “Really?! Wow, I gotta meet him. You gotta introduce me!”

So Ron Wood takes Bob Dylan next door to find Reg disconsolately fumbling with a bass guitar.

Dylan, by way of introduction, says “Hey, I didn’t know you played bass, man. How long you been playing bass?”

Reg looks up and with a deep sigh says, “All fuckin’ afternoon, mate, all fuckin’ afternoon”.

Larry Page has posted a transcript of The Troggs Tapes here.

Here’s one of my favorite bits:

Ronnie: Whether you think so or not, that is a number-fucking one, and if that bastard don’t go, then I’ll fucking retire! I fucking do!

Dennis: I think it is a good song. I agree, it is a good song.

Ronnie: But it fucking well won’t be unless we spend a little bit of fucking thought and imagination to fucking make it a fucking number one. You gotta put a little bit of fucking fairy dust over the bastard, you know…..

A few days before he fatally overdosed on some particularly strong heroin, Sid Vicious wrote what appears to be a suicide note. Sid’s mother, Anne Beverley, found it in the pocket of his jeans after his death. The note makes one wonder whether or not Vicious knew exactly what he was doing when he injected that smack into his arm.

We had a death pact. Please bury me next to my baby. Bury me in my black leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots.

 
Sharon Tate takes Merv Griffin on a tour of swinging London’s Carnaby Street, in August 1966.

A poignant piece of TV history capturing much of the innocence, idealism, and happiness that seemed to infuse the sixties. All of which is usurped by our grim knowledge of what happened to Sharon Tate only a few years later.
 

 
Previously on Dangerous Minds

Blondie on Merv Griffin, 1980

 
With thanks to Simon Wells!
 

 
Reggae singer/session keyboardist/producer Lloyd Charmers’s death in London a few days ago brings into sharp focus the steady passing of musicians from a generation that saw Jamaica become independent during their 20s. But it also sees the passing of one of the island nation’s premier producers of the dirty reggae song artform.

Charmers was born Lloyd Tyrell in 1946 in the Trench Town district of Kingston, Jamaica, and very little is documented of his early life. After getting his feet wet in Jamaica’s late-‘50s shuffle R&B scene, Charmers started his first group, the Charmers in 1962 with Roy Wilson, and after they split, he kept using the Charmers name for many of his subsequent records. 

When The Charmers split, he joined Slim Smith and Jimmy Riley in The Uniques, a group that unleashed a crucial clutch of hits like “My Conversation”…
 

 
…and others which in true Jamaican style would be redone and revived as a “riddim” countless times to generate a bunch of other hits for the dancehalls, as represented by this mix…
 

 
After the jump: More on the Charmers legacy…

 
Feverishly prolific New York graf-based expressionist painter Jean-Michel Basquiat would have turned 52 today. That fact jars us because of the inevitable Peter Pan myth that accompanies the premature death of any young artist in any discipline.

Though I hate to pursue it, does it depress us to imagine a middle-aged JMB? Would he be still cocooned and slickly dressed, and now entrenched and heavily sponsored downtown, or maybe bugged-out HR-from-Bad-Brains style, redolent in gray dreads, pursued often and obtained for the occasional commission in order to keep up his paranoid existence in who-knows-where?

Of course, Basquiat’s influence dwarfs the downtown New York art scene in the way that he embodied the New York mix of hip-hop, post-punk, and fashion. But our culture also tends to rely on him in an unspoken way as a kind of purified representation of redundant cliches like doomed youth, avant-garde blackness, and the price of fame. We do best to remember each of those features as part of him—and separately, we do best to remember Basquiat as Basquiat.

In that spirit, we draw your attention to Tamra Davis’s excellent documentary, Jean-Michel Basquiat: Radiant Child, kindly uploaded to YouTube for the budget-minded…
 

 
Thanks to the excellent musician Aybee Deepblak...

 
Ravi Shankar died earlier today at the age of 92. He had been suffering from upper respiratory and heart problems and had undergone heart-valve replacement surgery last week. He died in a hospital near his home in Southern California.

Ravi Shankar was a musician that not only introduced many of us to new sounds but also to a new kind of consciousness, a state of mind and heart in which music clearly revealed its spiritual nature.

Rumi wrote “we rarely hear the inward music, but we’re all dancing to it nevertheless.” Ravi Shankar brought the “inward music” outward and suffused popular culture with his sweet celestial sound and in it we found that part of ourselves that was dancing, now and forever.

In celebration of the beauty of Ravi Shankar’s life and influence, here is an excerpt from his historic and groundbreaking performance at the Monterey International Pop Festival in 1967. The audience’s ovation at the end of his four hour set says it all: this truly was a moment for the ages.

The clip is from D.A. Pennebaker’s Monterey Pop.
 

 
A lovely feature-length documentary on Ravi Shankar and interviews with Ravi and George Harrison plus footage of The Beatles in India after the jump…