Poly Styrene’s new single “Ghoulish” deals with the last few years of Michael Jackson’s life. An interesting subject for the singer of “Artificial.”
In an interview before she died, Poly explained the inspiration for the song:
There was all these pictures of him, and the nose had fallen off, and the white face, and the ghoulishness. But then I just wanted to say, I see through that. I see through that, he was probably quite a nice guy.”
“Ghoulish” will be released as a digital EP on August 8 including, appropriately, a dance re-mix produced by Hercules and Love Affair.
Dangerous Minds pal Chris Campion, who runs the Saint Cecilia Knows record label in Berlin writes this post about Mickey Newbury, who has been called “the Nick Drake of Country Music”:
It’s no small irony that the song Mickey Newbury is best-known for is the only one he didn’t write: “An American Trilogy,” the medley of Civil War anthems that was adopted by Elvis as a centrepiece of his Vegas-era shows.
“An American Trilogy” came about on-the-fly during a performance by Newbury at the Bitter End West in Los Angeles (in November, 1970) that was witnessed by Mama Cass, Odetta, Joan Baez and Kris Kristofferson. It was there that he decided to mount a quiet protest against what he perceived as the political censorship of the old minstrel standard, “Dixie”, a song that had become so weighted down by its association with the Civil War that in the civil rights era of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s its public performance literally started riots, and resulted in moves to ban the song outright in various states.
Newbury first performed the song against the backdrop of an era awash with partisan patriotic rabble-rousing, not so far removed from the America of today. During his 1968 Presidential campaign, Governor George Wallace had “Dixie” and “Battle Hymn of the Republic” blasted out at his political rallies, attracting pockets of white supremacists. In the early ‘70s, Nixon tried the same thing, as well as appropriating country music to win over working class whites as part of his “Southern Strategy.”
Today, his impassioned defence of “Dixie” would likely be interpreted as the act of a reactionary conservative. But Newbury’s intention was not to provoke or inflame political sentiment further but precisely the opposite. He wanted to expose the insensate hysteria surrounding not only “Dixie” but also the whole issue of American identity, on both sides of the political spectrum and reconnect the song with its emotional core. He wanted, he said, “to take the Klan’s marching song away from them” and return it to the land and its people.
Newbury’s performance of “Dixie” that night at the Bitter End was so impassioned that it moved Odetta to tears. When he saw, from the stage, how he had affected the great gospel singer Newbury, was so distraught that instead of stopping after he finished “Dixie,” he rolled right into “Battle Hymn of the Republic” and then “All My Trials.” It wasn’t until he recorded the medley for his 1971 album ‘Frisco Mabel Joy that he gave it the title, “An American Trilogy.”
The studio version is included as part of a new box set (also titled An American Trilogy) collecting Newbury’s achingly-beautiful late 60s and early 70s albums—Looks Like Rain, ‘Frisco Mabel Joy and Heaven Help The Child—which were recorded with the same group of Nashville session musicians who backed Dylan on his trilogy of Nashville albums (beginning with Blonde On Blonde). Order your copy here or get it on iTunes.
Download a 4-track sampler of the box set, including the studio version of “An American Trilogy”:
Below, Mickey Newbury performing “An American Trilogy” on The Old Grey Whistle Test.
Mickey Newbury on The Johnny Cash Show, March 17, 1971:
Kickin’ Jeans—not to be confused with “Chuck Norris’ Action Jeans”—was advertised in the back of Black Belt magazine in 1979 for a measly $19.95. Notice how the jeans have a “gusset crotch” sewn in them. You know, so your “bits” can be carried light-n-tight..
Have you seen the new BBCThree comedy series The Pranker yet? Starring Nickelodeon UK kid’s show host Ross Lee—who appears to be wanting to break out of that field in a big way, as you will see—it’s one of the funniest, darkest, sickest “hidden camera” prank shows I’ve ever seen.
The Brits have always done this sort of thing the best because they’re more willing to take it to its logical, mean-spirited conclusion (witness the inspired genius of Marc Wootton’s My New Best Friend series, for instance). The Pranker, like Kayvan Novak’s brilliant Fonejacker/Facejacker series, takes the Candid Camera format to new comedic heights. The below clip is just one of many from the first episode I could post here. The Pranker had the wife and I in hysterics from start to finish. I highly recommend it.
Hand-scrawled missive from Hunter S. Thompson to William McKeen, the author of the first HST bio, Outlaw Journalist (1991). His assistant at the time told McKeen how to “translate” the sentiments:
That’s just his way of saying that he liked it.
The framed letter is now hanging in a place of pride in McKeen’s home.
Artist William Geerts’ “(Sorry) Bible,” a work in progress. The artist says, “All letters in the bible were erased with white correction fluid except for the S, O, R, R, and Y in that order.”
Skip along four years since “A Trip Around Acid House (which I posted yesterday) and you can see the changes which had occurred within the UK’s dance scene. By 1992 raves had become massive outdoor events attracting thousands of punters, they had been cracked down on heavily by the police, and promoters had begun to put on licensed raves with professional security, a police presence and mandatory drug searches to minimise trouble and maximise profit.
BBC North’s Rave follows the set up, running and aftermath of one of these very large (but legal) outdoor raves, and highlights how attitudes had changed between 1992 and 1988. The moral panic surrounding acid house and ecstasy culture had peaked by this point. The police were aware that this new outdoor dancing movement was not something that was going to go away any time soon, so rather than trying to stamp it out they instead focussed on regulating it. It’s interesting to see the individual police officers interviewed in ‘Rave’ and their opinions on the culture - unnerved by the “spaced out” demeanour of the participants, but also very aware that they are not violent and cause very little trouble. There were still the supposedly “moral” campaigners who saw the trend as entirely negative, of course, and campaigned to have any event of this nature shut down due to the supposed dangers of drug “pushers”. The inability to compute that people were taking drugs of their own free will, combined with the relatively harmless effects of those particular drugs, give these campaigners distinct shades Mary Whitehouse. It’s all about looking good rather than engaging with reality.
By 1992 the music had now morphed too - four years on from the happy-go-lucky spirit of acid house (with its sampling of different genres and its embracing of the Balearic scene) the music is more streamlined, and beginning to form more regimented genres like techno and rave itself. DJ Smokey Joe does a pretty good job of describing the difference between the German and Belgian strands of techno in this show:
This cover of Donovan’s “Catch The Wind” really works for me. It’s a straight ahead, honest and heartfelt version of Donovan’s ethereal folk tune. Buck puts some Bakersfield twang into the song that gives it a bit of barroom melancholy that would go down nicely with a shot of Jim Beam and a Bud. From Buck’s 1966 TV show.
I used to own one one of those Buck Owen red, white and blue guitars. Buck’s was custom made made by Mosrite and later mass produced by Gibson. I owned the Gibson model. I think I bought mine at Sears.
