Abbey Lincoln died today at the age of 80. She mattered in the world because she was a female jazz singer who stood up and became active in the civil rights struggle in the ‘60s when she could have remained neutral and safe.
She made great art. Nat Chinen wrote an excellent obit for her in the New York Times.
Ridiculously catchy late-70s disco single by future Phantom of the Opera star Sarah Brightman, then a teenager, and the Hot Gossip dance troupe from The Kenny Everett Video Show. Not exactly sure what a bunch of dancers had to do with the recording of this ditty, but I can sure see why they were in the video. From the Wikipedia entry about the song:
The song is a lightweight space disco track that cashed in on the media hype surrounding the original Star Wars film: the lyrics include the lines “And evil Darth Vader has been banished to Mars” and “Or are you like a droid, devoid of emotion”. The song also samples music from Star Wars and Thus Spoke Zarathustra (from 2001: A Space Odyssey). Many of the lyrics contain mild sexual innuendo; for example, “Take me, make me feel the force”. Other television and film science fiction references are “Flash Gordon’s left me, he’s gone to the stars”, “What my body needs is close encounter three”, and “Fighting for the Federation” and “Static on the comm - it’s Starfleet Command” (both Star Trek, or the Federation from Blake’s 7; alternatively, “the Federation” and “Starfleet Command” are evident references to Starship Troopers).
Two soul classics: Pam Grier and She’s Gone by Hall and Oates.
The first video is the full length version of She’s Gone (not the radio edit) nicely synced up with scenes from Foxy Brown. The second is an example of a great song wedded to an abysmal video. What were they thinking?
The brilliance of Bonzo Dog Band. Real genius never gets old. I remember as a teenybopper watching Magical Mystery Tour for the first time and thinking how dull it was until Vivian and the boys made their appearance and suddenly the movie became electric, exotic and dangerous.
I am a 45 y/o karaoke singer from the Sacramento area looking for a woman to go out and sing some songs with. i would like to try working on some duets because that would be fun.
if you are a woman between the ages of 37 and 47 and are interested in calling me after viewing the video you can call me at…
I’ve got to give this dude credit for “breakin’ new ground in karaoke” and risking extreme ridicule back at the warehouse. He’s either a hopeless romantic or just plain hopeless. I admire his balls….and erect nipples.
He’s an electric cowboy and he’s damn good at what he does, workin’ that forklift all day, liftin’ piles of toilet paper, 96 cases of tea, water, eggs, chips and milk and stuff, droppin’ huge pallets all day long, and he’s lookin’ to be Marvin Gaye to your Tammi Terrell. He’s got no criminal record, none at all, you can check it out, just a DUI back when he was a kid in his 20s and he’s lookin’ for someone, some rock and roll chick, to sing with, a simple duet, some rock, maybe some alternative, blues, r&b…but no country cause he’s had bad experiences with country girls. Those country girls don’t understand his feminine side.
70 years before Lady Gaga, there was Carmen Miranda. In this wild and wonderful clip form The Gangs All Here, Carmen sings her signature tune ‘The Lady In The Tutti Frutti Hat’.
The Gangs All Here was made in 1943 and was Busby Berkeley’s first color film and, like in all of his films, he held nothing back. The colors, choreography and Carmen Miranda all come together in a surreal spectacle. Wow!
Attention good people of Los Angeles, this weekend marks the opening of David Yow’s solo art exhibit. Yow, best known as the front man for confrontational noise-meisters, The Jesus Lizard (and before that, Scratch Acid) will be showing at the DIY Gallery, 1549 W. Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90026. You can see an online selection of his paintings and digital work at his website. I lovethis one.
Wayne Cochran was the baddest motherfucker to sport a platinum blond pompadour in the history of rock and roll. He was the honky doppelganger to the hardest working Black man in show business. But, the booze, the pills, the nightsweats, the trembling heebeegeebees and soul twisting demonic machinations of the Devil’s music drove him into the cold stiff arms of suicidal despair. Some men cannot handle the Hermetic heaviness bestowed upon them, the alchemical fire scorches and blinds them.
Like so many tales of rock and roll redemption, Jesus appeared to Wayne and laid his hands upon that sinner’s radiant wighat and the Satanic sunglasses of sin fell from Wayne’s eyes and the light of salvation penetrated his supplicating optic nerve sending a bolt of Christ-like illumination into the pulsating pink folds of his frontal lobes. Wayne was a changed man and Jesus had a new brother in arms, but rock and roll had lost a sharkskin suited shaman who had sent the serpent power of sexual bliss up the spinal column of sweet soul music.
And the black angels wept.
As one who had seen Cochran perform in the early 70s, I can testify to the man’s powerful transformative mojo. I was struck down and raised up.
45 years after appearing on Jackie Gleason’s Miami-based TV show, Wayne is running a Christian ministry in the same city where he once dazzled an audience with his lime green threads and his Mephistophelian moves.
In many cases, the transformation from rock star to Christian minister is lateral and redundant. But, sometimes the lord moves in mysterious ways and He does the watusi. Wayne Cochran was a cosmic force before he found religion. Religion found him - a primal, wild, uncontrolled religion. Sometimes that’s more than a man can handle. So, he turns to the script, scripture, where the rules are neatly laid down - ‘Jesus For Dummies.’ Every man or woman needs to do what they have to do, but it saddens me to see great artists retreat from their work because they can’t mentally process it. Art is supposed to be scary, it takes you places where you’ve never been and that is knowledge.
Wayne Cochran’s pompadour was a crown, not of thorns, but that of the Magi.
