In lieu of the usual NW4NW post this week, I instead want to share with you my rather enjoyable Saturday night when it felt like 1983 all over again. Was at Lancaster's infamous Chameleon again for the second time in about a month, this time to see a couple of bands who belong on any sensible roll call of New Wave royalty. The Psychedelic Furs came to town this weekend, and brought with them opening act The Tom Tom Club.
Thankfully, we did not have any of the issues that marred the enjoyment of the They Might Be Giants show a few weeks ago: not nearly so long a wait to get in, nowhere near as oppressively hot (although The Chameleon still lived up to its "sweatbox" reputation), and no drunken idiots lunging at the stage. In fact, the first thing we noticed was that a barrier had been set up about two feet in front of the stage, creating a sort of moat between the crowd and the bands. That Guy's legacy, perhaps?
The crowd also was surprisingly not as large as I expected it might be for two big-name bands. When Tom Tom Club took the stage, the club was about half-full; by the time The Furs began their set, the place had filled in quite a bit. Still, I'd be surprised if there were more than 300 people there. It seemed like the show was not well advertised around here - I only heard about it a week before it happened, and many I've talked to since then never heard about it. Strange. Made for a nice evening, though: it's refreshing to be able to see a band without being shoved against the stage (or barrier) like a sardine, and since the place wasn't crammed full, the air conditioning could actually occasionally be felt (such as it is - anyone who's ever been in the Chameleon will attest to the terrible ventilation there.)
Seeing The Tom Tom Club was neat, especially considering nowadays they are about as close as we'll ever get to seeing Talking Heads again. Tina Weymouth (bass) and Chris Frantz (drums), who founded the band in 1981, led the group through a great opening set that had the crowd dancing and really got the energy going. Classics like "Man With the 4-Way Hips" and "Wordy Rappinghood" were met with energetic applause and sing-along vocals from the crowd; a pair of songs from their parent band's catalog ("Take Me To The River" and Heads' original "Psycho Killer") were happy surprises. The best reaction, though, was reserved for The Tom Tom Club's biggest splash, "Genius Of Love." Check out this clip of the performance, taken by YouTube user vwall10411 (and keep your eye out for the band's DJ in the back, wearing the hat that says "BAD." We were trying to figure out if that was actually David Arquette!)
The Psychedelic Furs are celebrating the 30th anniversary of their incredible Talk Talk Talk LP, but their set didn't focus solely on that album's material. (For an excellent take on the album and the band, check out this post by Theresa Kereakes at her Punk Turns 30 blog.) It was great to hear "Pretty In Pink" and "All Of This And Nothing," though I would have loved a live version of "Into You Like A Train." Over the course of roughly an hour, The Furs did a fantastic job of touching on the various eras of their career, and live they sounded like they haven't aged a day or missed a beat. Richard Butler looked to be having a great time, doing his best Bowie-as-Thin-White-Duke pose and literally bouncing around joyously thanking the crowd after each song. Brother Tim Butler stalked about the stage in wrap-around shades and bass in hand, playing to the crowd at every turn, and saxophonist Mars Williams simply amazed. If you had never heard The Psychedelic Furs before, you would have walked away impressed; those of us who have been fans for far too many years to count were overjoyed. Again thanks to vwall10411, here is a clip of The Furs performing one of their later hits, "The Ghost In You:"
The only complaint any of us had was that the night was over too soon. The Furs could've played until dawn and not a soul would have left the club - it was a good crowd who loved both bands, sang along and relived happy memories. For a time, inside that club, it could easily have been 30 years ago. That, my friends, is the sign of a great show!
The Psychedelic Furs/Tom Tom Club tour runs through October. Here is a link to the remaining dates - if they are coming within earshot of you, go. You will have a blast. Pics from Saturday night's show will be up on the Facebook Page shortly.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Waiting for Calmness
Over a decade ago, when I first began therapy and discovered the names of my demons, my therapist said to me that my "work will never be done. The goal is not to cure you because these are not things you cure. The goal is for you to learn how you react to things and develop the skills you need to develop to remain in control." It's the thing that those of us who live with anxieties hate to hear but must admit: this is how we are. This is how we always will be. It won't ever stop - but it can get better. My demons cannot be exiled, but they can be tamed.
I liked the fact that she called it my "work." Actually, more often she called it "our work," because her part in the matter was to teach me how to do this work. It truly is a full-time job to internally monitor my reactions to things. Fortunately, by this point, it is work that is, a majority of the time, passive. It's the work a smoke alarm does in your home. You put the battery in the smoke alarm and forget about it, unless and until it screeches out its warning that there's an awful lot of smoke - and where there's smoke, there's fire, so you had better do something lest your house burn down. Same thing. My internal monitor sits there, vigilant yet passive, until something sets it off. Then, it screeches out a warning and I know I have to react.
I haven't written about my demons in awhile, because they haven't tripped the alarm in some time. In the past few meetings of the writer's group I belong to, I've shared that I have made no progress at all on my planned book about dealing with OCD, Social Anxiety and Depression, because they have not been at the surface of my awareness. It's difficult enough to write about them when they are causing mayhem in my life, but it's damn near impossible to write about them when they aren't. There's nothing to say, no story to tell. It's as if I have to be in pain to write about pain. Well, for the past few months, the waters have been still. So still, in fact, that I almost forgot about my demons.
Almost.
When I became unemployed for the first time in 14 years this summer, I was ready for the demons to make an appearance. Despite the fact that the company which had employed me all that time was shutting down and it was absolutely no reflection on my abilities or my work ethic, I just knew that my demons would relish the opportunity to remind me what a failure I am. It would have been an obvious thing for them to latch onto, but they didn't. And I'll admit I was very pleased with myself that I have come far enough in ten or so years of "work" that I could recognize that potential "fire hazard" and guard against it before it ever occurred. That's not to say I wasn't upset or even somewhat depressed at being out of work - that's only natural, especially in our society where we are often defined by our careers. But I didn't sink into the bleak despair that I might have had it happened a few years earlier; I didn't give the demons a chance to wreak their havoc.
As a result, rather than sit around moping and hurting and beating myself up, I found an new job within about two weeks. Or, so I thought. As I've said to those with whom I have since shared the story, I had the unique experience of having been interviewed for, hired for, traveled to across the state to be trained for, even received business cards for a job that turned out not to exist. I went from the extreme high of being able to announce to friends and family that I was back among the gainfully employed to the extreme low of realizing that no, I am still unemployed. Now this was certainly where my demons would usually chime in: "You see! It was all a set up! All designed to make you look bad! They're laughing at you, Bryan! You're a failure! You don't deserve a good job!" But yet again, I found myself on guard against their insidiousness, almost without realizing it. I knew what to expect from them and was ready, and they never had the chance to strike.
I have since gone into business with my former boss and mentor to create a new marketing company. You'll hear more about Independence Marketing Services in the very near future. We're taking what we know how to do well and "rebooting," after a fashion. Of course, like any other startup, it's hard work and long hours for little pay. Once we get the ball rolling, that will change, but overcoming the initial inertia is a challenge. I am pleased to be working and excited for the possibilities this venture presents. But there has been a price, which I really only discovered last night.
With all of my efforts and attention being directed towards building the new company, I haven't been as vigilant in listening to my internal monitor. My demons have begun finding small little cracks to chip away at - small chinks that have been quietly yet inexorably clawing away at until they can break through like an army of zombies bursting through windows boarded up against their approach. They manage to get an arm through here, a head through there; they push and pound and scratch until the boards give way and they are in.
The first signs that they were finding ways in showed up when catching myself lying awake at night going into mild panic attacks over paying my bills. Right now, Unemployment Compensation helps and will remain a help as we build the business to a place where steady income begins flowing; but it's not really enough and it will not last forever. I have savings and I budget wisely enough that I needn't really start to worry for another month or so. But the self-doubt: "You're not good enough to make this work. You're going to fail. You don't deserve success..."
I fight back by reminding myself that we have already completed one successful project for one client, and we have gotten paid for it - we have made a small profit on our very first venture! It was a client that I brought to the table and a project that I managed! On top of that, we're building a second project for another client, and have at least one more on the immediate horizon. It IS working. But the demons are relentless.
Last night, for the first time in a long time, they showed up in full force. I was invited to join some friends for a bonfire at one friend's house for "drinks and philosophical conversation," the kind of thing I love, as anyone who has gotten into an esoteric debate with me about life, reality, theology, existentialism, etc. has discovered. I immediately said "count me in." Of course, the old transportation situation came up: I don't drive, and our meeting place would not have been within walking distance. So, we began figuring out the logistics of getting me to and from the festivities. And then it hit.
"You better not leave your house! Something might happen to it - a fire, a burglary, vandalism - and you don't have the money to fix it if that happens! And you won't have the money, because you're not going to be successful in your new business!" My stomach lurched, my head swam, and I wanted to run away, bury my head and cry. I was sitting there, working out transportation with a friend on Twitter, perfectly fine, and within seconds I was in the midst of a full-fledged anxiety attack, as strong as any I've ever had. My hands were trembling, I was nearly hyper-ventilating, and I was once again hating myself for going through this.
I begged my friend's forgiveness, explained that I was in high panic mode, and politely backed out of the evening. Then came the embarrassment. How could I let this happen again? I'd done so well, gone for so long without an event, and something so simple as "hey let's get together for a bonfire" sent me into a violent emotional whirlpool. Next came the OCD demon replaying it again and again in my head, reminding me how insane this behavior is. "See how messed up you are! See how silly you behave! It's a wonder you have any friends at all!"
It took some time to settle down, maybe a couple of hours. It was then, in a more rational state of mind, that I could reflect and realize that it wasn't just one thing that set it off. No, it's been the upheaval that my life has been through since I lost my job back in April. And I reminded myself that my work will never be done, that my demons can never be exiled - only tamed. I've also reminded myself that I have proven that I can tame them, and that even though they may occasionally win a battle here or there like they did last night, they haven't won the war. I will continue to work towards seeing that they do not. Once calmness returns to my life, it will be better again.
___________
In case you missed them, here are links to my prior posts regarding my demons:
Table For One
Fighting The Demons Again
A Stalemate With The Demons
At The Moment
I liked the fact that she called it my "work." Actually, more often she called it "our work," because her part in the matter was to teach me how to do this work. It truly is a full-time job to internally monitor my reactions to things. Fortunately, by this point, it is work that is, a majority of the time, passive. It's the work a smoke alarm does in your home. You put the battery in the smoke alarm and forget about it, unless and until it screeches out its warning that there's an awful lot of smoke - and where there's smoke, there's fire, so you had better do something lest your house burn down. Same thing. My internal monitor sits there, vigilant yet passive, until something sets it off. Then, it screeches out a warning and I know I have to react.I haven't written about my demons in awhile, because they haven't tripped the alarm in some time. In the past few meetings of the writer's group I belong to, I've shared that I have made no progress at all on my planned book about dealing with OCD, Social Anxiety and Depression, because they have not been at the surface of my awareness. It's difficult enough to write about them when they are causing mayhem in my life, but it's damn near impossible to write about them when they aren't. There's nothing to say, no story to tell. It's as if I have to be in pain to write about pain. Well, for the past few months, the waters have been still. So still, in fact, that I almost forgot about my demons.
Almost.
When I became unemployed for the first time in 14 years this summer, I was ready for the demons to make an appearance. Despite the fact that the company which had employed me all that time was shutting down and it was absolutely no reflection on my abilities or my work ethic, I just knew that my demons would relish the opportunity to remind me what a failure I am. It would have been an obvious thing for them to latch onto, but they didn't. And I'll admit I was very pleased with myself that I have come far enough in ten or so years of "work" that I could recognize that potential "fire hazard" and guard against it before it ever occurred. That's not to say I wasn't upset or even somewhat depressed at being out of work - that's only natural, especially in our society where we are often defined by our careers. But I didn't sink into the bleak despair that I might have had it happened a few years earlier; I didn't give the demons a chance to wreak their havoc.
As a result, rather than sit around moping and hurting and beating myself up, I found an new job within about two weeks. Or, so I thought. As I've said to those with whom I have since shared the story, I had the unique experience of having been interviewed for, hired for, traveled to across the state to be trained for, even received business cards for a job that turned out not to exist. I went from the extreme high of being able to announce to friends and family that I was back among the gainfully employed to the extreme low of realizing that no, I am still unemployed. Now this was certainly where my demons would usually chime in: "You see! It was all a set up! All designed to make you look bad! They're laughing at you, Bryan! You're a failure! You don't deserve a good job!" But yet again, I found myself on guard against their insidiousness, almost without realizing it. I knew what to expect from them and was ready, and they never had the chance to strike.
I have since gone into business with my former boss and mentor to create a new marketing company. You'll hear more about Independence Marketing Services in the very near future. We're taking what we know how to do well and "rebooting," after a fashion. Of course, like any other startup, it's hard work and long hours for little pay. Once we get the ball rolling, that will change, but overcoming the initial inertia is a challenge. I am pleased to be working and excited for the possibilities this venture presents. But there has been a price, which I really only discovered last night.
With all of my efforts and attention being directed towards building the new company, I haven't been as vigilant in listening to my internal monitor. My demons have begun finding small little cracks to chip away at - small chinks that have been quietly yet inexorably clawing away at until they can break through like an army of zombies bursting through windows boarded up against their approach. They manage to get an arm through here, a head through there; they push and pound and scratch until the boards give way and they are in.
The first signs that they were finding ways in showed up when catching myself lying awake at night going into mild panic attacks over paying my bills. Right now, Unemployment Compensation helps and will remain a help as we build the business to a place where steady income begins flowing; but it's not really enough and it will not last forever. I have savings and I budget wisely enough that I needn't really start to worry for another month or so. But the self-doubt: "You're not good enough to make this work. You're going to fail. You don't deserve success..."
I fight back by reminding myself that we have already completed one successful project for one client, and we have gotten paid for it - we have made a small profit on our very first venture! It was a client that I brought to the table and a project that I managed! On top of that, we're building a second project for another client, and have at least one more on the immediate horizon. It IS working. But the demons are relentless.Last night, for the first time in a long time, they showed up in full force. I was invited to join some friends for a bonfire at one friend's house for "drinks and philosophical conversation," the kind of thing I love, as anyone who has gotten into an esoteric debate with me about life, reality, theology, existentialism, etc. has discovered. I immediately said "count me in." Of course, the old transportation situation came up: I don't drive, and our meeting place would not have been within walking distance. So, we began figuring out the logistics of getting me to and from the festivities. And then it hit.
"You better not leave your house! Something might happen to it - a fire, a burglary, vandalism - and you don't have the money to fix it if that happens! And you won't have the money, because you're not going to be successful in your new business!" My stomach lurched, my head swam, and I wanted to run away, bury my head and cry. I was sitting there, working out transportation with a friend on Twitter, perfectly fine, and within seconds I was in the midst of a full-fledged anxiety attack, as strong as any I've ever had. My hands were trembling, I was nearly hyper-ventilating, and I was once again hating myself for going through this.
I begged my friend's forgiveness, explained that I was in high panic mode, and politely backed out of the evening. Then came the embarrassment. How could I let this happen again? I'd done so well, gone for so long without an event, and something so simple as "hey let's get together for a bonfire" sent me into a violent emotional whirlpool. Next came the OCD demon replaying it again and again in my head, reminding me how insane this behavior is. "See how messed up you are! See how silly you behave! It's a wonder you have any friends at all!"
It took some time to settle down, maybe a couple of hours. It was then, in a more rational state of mind, that I could reflect and realize that it wasn't just one thing that set it off. No, it's been the upheaval that my life has been through since I lost my job back in April. And I reminded myself that my work will never be done, that my demons can never be exiled - only tamed. I've also reminded myself that I have proven that I can tame them, and that even though they may occasionally win a battle here or there like they did last night, they haven't won the war. I will continue to work towards seeing that they do not. Once calmness returns to my life, it will be better again.
___________
In case you missed them, here are links to my prior posts regarding my demons:
Table For One
Fighting The Demons Again
A Stalemate With The Demons
At The Moment
Monday, August 29, 2011
New Wave for the New Week #134
This is going to be a short entry, mainly because there's not a lot of information out there about Colour Radio. They remain one of those "mystery" bands: it seems that the few people who know of them and have heard them, like their music, but no one can tell you much about them.
Here's what I know: Back in my high school days, circa 1985, I was digging through the cheap cassettes bin at a local record shop (the now-defunct Camelot Records for you locals) and found a tape with a sort of New-Wavey-looking cover by the band Colour Radio. For half a dollar, it was worth the gamble. Took the tape home and it never left the cassette desk for the next few weeks!
What I had snagged was Colour Radio's self-titled debut album, which had been released a year earlier with little-to-no fanfare by Gold Mountain Records. Here were ten songs without a clinker in the bunch, all done in that sort of tough pop-wave style that would evolve into the big radio-friendly sound of 1986-87, although the style was rather embryonic here, not yet fully removed from the New Romantic sounds of 1982-83. Keyboards are a focus, but so is guitar. (The record was produced by Rick Derringer, which explains the rock-star pose that permeates each track - yet the band pulls it off without falling into the easy trap of unintentional self-parody that pose often sets one up for.) Lead vocalist Stephan Schneider's warble vaguely recalls Ric Ocasek. He has a habit of clipping his words (a remnant, perhaps, of earlier paint-by-numbers New Wave singing?), which adds an appealing layer of off-kilter-ness to the goings-on.
Over the years I wore the cassette out and replaced it with a proper vinyl copy of the LP, which would appear to be the only thing the band ever did. Never released on CD, it remains a fantastic mystery that is well worth chasing down. The only bit of information Google searches of the band has added is that Colour Radio was from Milwaukee, WI.
So, I appeal to my readers: can anyone out there add to the story of Colour Radio? Anyone ever see them play live? Were any of you in the band? Please share!
In the meantime, enjoy these audio-only clips of two of my favorite cuts from the album: the stunning opener "Adrianna Dreams," and the cynically wonderful "Bound For Life." Enjoy!
Here's what I know: Back in my high school days, circa 1985, I was digging through the cheap cassettes bin at a local record shop (the now-defunct Camelot Records for you locals) and found a tape with a sort of New-Wavey-looking cover by the band Colour Radio. For half a dollar, it was worth the gamble. Took the tape home and it never left the cassette desk for the next few weeks!
What I had snagged was Colour Radio's self-titled debut album, which had been released a year earlier with little-to-no fanfare by Gold Mountain Records. Here were ten songs without a clinker in the bunch, all done in that sort of tough pop-wave style that would evolve into the big radio-friendly sound of 1986-87, although the style was rather embryonic here, not yet fully removed from the New Romantic sounds of 1982-83. Keyboards are a focus, but so is guitar. (The record was produced by Rick Derringer, which explains the rock-star pose that permeates each track - yet the band pulls it off without falling into the easy trap of unintentional self-parody that pose often sets one up for.) Lead vocalist Stephan Schneider's warble vaguely recalls Ric Ocasek. He has a habit of clipping his words (a remnant, perhaps, of earlier paint-by-numbers New Wave singing?), which adds an appealing layer of off-kilter-ness to the goings-on.
Over the years I wore the cassette out and replaced it with a proper vinyl copy of the LP, which would appear to be the only thing the band ever did. Never released on CD, it remains a fantastic mystery that is well worth chasing down. The only bit of information Google searches of the band has added is that Colour Radio was from Milwaukee, WI.
So, I appeal to my readers: can anyone out there add to the story of Colour Radio? Anyone ever see them play live? Were any of you in the band? Please share!
In the meantime, enjoy these audio-only clips of two of my favorite cuts from the album: the stunning opener "Adrianna Dreams," and the cynically wonderful "Bound For Life." Enjoy!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
New Wave for the New Week #133
When it comes to just plain goofy fun, it's tough to beat the group of loonies who called themselves Tenpole Tudor. Though often lumped in with the Punk bands of the era, they demonstrated over the course of two utterly astounding albums a remarkable ability to move nimbly from punky slam to country twang to rockabilly rumble to tender ballad and back again. They also demonstrated a steadfast reliance on the most silly side of British humor (it was not without insight that a friend of mine described Tenpole Tudor as the Punk Rock Monty Python!)
Edward Tudor-Pole first came to the attention of the general public via his appearance in the Sex Pistols' film The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle and its soundtrack. At the time, Malcolm McLaren was touting Eddie as the new Pistols lead singer, replacing Johnny Rotten. Tudor-Pole's eccentric mannerisms and unmistakeably wobbly vocals made his contributions ("Who Killed Bambi?," "The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle," and a nearly unrecognizable "Rock Around The Clock") memorable indeed; plans to install him in Johnny's stead were scrapped when The Sex Pistols finally blew apart.
Rechiristening himself as Eddie Tenpole, he found a group of like-minded musicians and presented the music world with Tenpole Tudor. After their 1980 debut single, "Real Fun," found some traction, they released the first of their two full-length LPs in early 1981. Eddie, Old Bob, Dick And Gary is a fantastic record from start to finish. Its weakest tracks are saved by Eddie's vocal acrobatics, but when it hits the mark, it's jaw-droppingly good stuff. Tenpole Tudor hit the UK charts with a number of tracks from the album, including "3 Bells In A Row," "Swords Of A Thousand Men," and their finest moment, "Wunderbar."
Later that same year, Tenpole Tudor released a second album, Let The Four Winds Blow. While not as consistent as its predecessors, this album has a few stunners within its grooves as well, especially the lead single, "Throwing My Baby Out With The Bathwater." By this time, as the cover art for Four Winds shows, the band had taken to appearing in full suits of armor, and their lovable looniness had begun to pigeonhole them as something of a novelty act. Before falling into that trap, Tenpole Tudor split up.
Eddie went back to calling himself Tudor-Pole (or, sometimes, Eddie Tenpole Tudor), and split his time between acting and playing music of various styles - most notably, Cajun, Jazz and Swing music. In 2009, he reformed his band, slightly renamed as Ten Pole Tudor, for a new album, Made It This Far.
The two 1981 albums are well worth searching for. For those not inclined to spend hours hunched over used record bins in full search mode, a nifty two-disc compilation exists called Swords Of A Thousand Men. In the meantime, please enjoy this week's NW4NW offerings - three great clips from Tenpole Tudor, including "Wunderbar," "Swords Of A Thousand Men," and "Throwing My Baby Out With The Bathwater:"
Edward Tudor-Pole first came to the attention of the general public via his appearance in the Sex Pistols' film The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle and its soundtrack. At the time, Malcolm McLaren was touting Eddie as the new Pistols lead singer, replacing Johnny Rotten. Tudor-Pole's eccentric mannerisms and unmistakeably wobbly vocals made his contributions ("Who Killed Bambi?," "The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle," and a nearly unrecognizable "Rock Around The Clock") memorable indeed; plans to install him in Johnny's stead were scrapped when The Sex Pistols finally blew apart.
Rechiristening himself as Eddie Tenpole, he found a group of like-minded musicians and presented the music world with Tenpole Tudor. After their 1980 debut single, "Real Fun," found some traction, they released the first of their two full-length LPs in early 1981. Eddie, Old Bob, Dick And Gary is a fantastic record from start to finish. Its weakest tracks are saved by Eddie's vocal acrobatics, but when it hits the mark, it's jaw-droppingly good stuff. Tenpole Tudor hit the UK charts with a number of tracks from the album, including "3 Bells In A Row," "Swords Of A Thousand Men," and their finest moment, "Wunderbar."
Later that same year, Tenpole Tudor released a second album, Let The Four Winds Blow. While not as consistent as its predecessors, this album has a few stunners within its grooves as well, especially the lead single, "Throwing My Baby Out With The Bathwater." By this time, as the cover art for Four Winds shows, the band had taken to appearing in full suits of armor, and their lovable looniness had begun to pigeonhole them as something of a novelty act. Before falling into that trap, Tenpole Tudor split up.
Eddie went back to calling himself Tudor-Pole (or, sometimes, Eddie Tenpole Tudor), and split his time between acting and playing music of various styles - most notably, Cajun, Jazz and Swing music. In 2009, he reformed his band, slightly renamed as Ten Pole Tudor, for a new album, Made It This Far.
The two 1981 albums are well worth searching for. For those not inclined to spend hours hunched over used record bins in full search mode, a nifty two-disc compilation exists called Swords Of A Thousand Men. In the meantime, please enjoy this week's NW4NW offerings - three great clips from Tenpole Tudor, including "Wunderbar," "Swords Of A Thousand Men," and "Throwing My Baby Out With The Bathwater:"
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
New Wave for the New Week #132
It's been somewhat fascinating in recent years to see so many bands from the Punk/New Wave era being the focus of renewed interest, often reforming and hitting the road to play before both new fans and those who were there way back when.
Such is the case the Maso sisters, Caron and Michele, who, together with backing band Kip Brown, John Gerlach, Jeff Fair and Steve Sicular, were known collectively as The Little Girls. The Little Girls became local favorites in the early 80's San Fernando Valley scene, and thanks to airplay on LA's KROQ had two regional New Wave hits, "The Earthquake Song" and "How To Pick Up Girls," both of which appeared on their 1983 EP Thank Heaven! ("The Earthquake Song" had already been available in an earlier form on the second Rodney On The ROQ compilation LP from 1981).
Treading similar musical waters as Josie Cotton and Nikki Corvette, The Little Girls' version of '60s-girl-group-inspired New Wave bubblegum was made extra-sugary thanks to the sisters' goofily amateurish yet somehow endearing attempts at choreography in their stage act. Pantomiming the lyrics as they sung them, they had a routine for each song; decked out in outfits that might have been found at Pat Benatar's yard sale and backed by musicians dressed like extras in every early '80s movie you can name, they were undeniably of their time. But the songs were catchy, the music was great, and if The Little Girls didn't put a smile on your face, then you had no sense of fun.
By 1985 their time had passed and the Maso sisters went on with their lives. In 2004, The Little Girls reunited for a one-off show in Santa Monica, CA, which sold out in one night. Realizing there were a fair number of folks who fondly remembered them, the Masos set about assembling and reissuing whatever material they could. First up was 2006's No More Vinyl, which combined all of the tracks from Thank Heaven! with unreleased material they had recorded in 1984/85 in hopes of landing a full album deal. Around the same time, they also reissued a collection of very early demos (circa 1981) under the title The Polodor-Cooper Sessions. The following year, Ramo Records issued a 4-track 7-inch of the 1984/85 demos called The Clear Album, including their excellent cover of The Dave Clark Five's "Any Way You Want It" and the shoulda-been-hit "I Really Wanna Be With You."
All of those reissues are still available, but completists will want the recently issued pair of CDs on the Masos' own ValleyPOP Records. Thank Heaven For Valleypop expands on No More Vinyl with additional tracks, while Today...And Yesterday gathers more unreleased gems from the sisters' more recent studio demos (circa 2006) as well some nifty surprises from the '80s including an interview with KROQ's Rodney Bingenheimer. Recommended stuff, guaranteed to keep you in a good mood all day!
For this week's NW4NW entry, here are both of The Little Girls' early hits, "The Earthquake Song" and "How To Pick Up Girls." Enjoy!
Such is the case the Maso sisters, Caron and Michele, who, together with backing band Kip Brown, John Gerlach, Jeff Fair and Steve Sicular, were known collectively as The Little Girls. The Little Girls became local favorites in the early 80's San Fernando Valley scene, and thanks to airplay on LA's KROQ had two regional New Wave hits, "The Earthquake Song" and "How To Pick Up Girls," both of which appeared on their 1983 EP Thank Heaven! ("The Earthquake Song" had already been available in an earlier form on the second Rodney On The ROQ compilation LP from 1981).
Treading similar musical waters as Josie Cotton and Nikki Corvette, The Little Girls' version of '60s-girl-group-inspired New Wave bubblegum was made extra-sugary thanks to the sisters' goofily amateurish yet somehow endearing attempts at choreography in their stage act. Pantomiming the lyrics as they sung them, they had a routine for each song; decked out in outfits that might have been found at Pat Benatar's yard sale and backed by musicians dressed like extras in every early '80s movie you can name, they were undeniably of their time. But the songs were catchy, the music was great, and if The Little Girls didn't put a smile on your face, then you had no sense of fun.
By 1985 their time had passed and the Maso sisters went on with their lives. In 2004, The Little Girls reunited for a one-off show in Santa Monica, CA, which sold out in one night. Realizing there were a fair number of folks who fondly remembered them, the Masos set about assembling and reissuing whatever material they could. First up was 2006's No More Vinyl, which combined all of the tracks from Thank Heaven! with unreleased material they had recorded in 1984/85 in hopes of landing a full album deal. Around the same time, they also reissued a collection of very early demos (circa 1981) under the title The Polodor-Cooper Sessions. The following year, Ramo Records issued a 4-track 7-inch of the 1984/85 demos called The Clear Album, including their excellent cover of The Dave Clark Five's "Any Way You Want It" and the shoulda-been-hit "I Really Wanna Be With You."
All of those reissues are still available, but completists will want the recently issued pair of CDs on the Masos' own ValleyPOP Records. Thank Heaven For Valleypop expands on No More Vinyl with additional tracks, while Today...And Yesterday gathers more unreleased gems from the sisters' more recent studio demos (circa 2006) as well some nifty surprises from the '80s including an interview with KROQ's Rodney Bingenheimer. Recommended stuff, guaranteed to keep you in a good mood all day!
For this week's NW4NW entry, here are both of The Little Girls' early hits, "The Earthquake Song" and "How To Pick Up Girls." Enjoy!
Sunday, August 7, 2011
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