DIG THIS WITH BILL MESNIK AND RICH BUCKLAND- THE SPLENDID BOHEMIANS

You asked, and we answered. Since you enjoyed the Bobbie Gentry vs. Joey Heatherton marathon smackdown so much, we've resurrected two more tantalizing STACK O 45s archival episodes to enrich your day and fire your imaginations: You Don't Own Me by Leslie Gore, and Is That All There Is? by the one and only Peggy Lee. 

There is an interesting theme coursing through these are three dynamic pop hits of the Brill Building era, all by one hit wonders, sung by extraordinary, up and coming stylists, and crafted by some of the most influential music men of the time: 

Cathy Carroll’s 1962 hit, “Poor Little Puppet” (produced and arranged by Stan Applebaum, written by Howard Greenfield (Neil Sedaka’s partner, here collaborating with Jack Keller); 1963’s “Girls Grow Up Faster Than Boys Do,” by Earl-Jean McCrae (with the Cookies), produced by Gerry Goffin, written by Goffin and Carole King, also with Jack Keller; and Tracey Dey, singing “I Won’t Tell,” from 1964, produced by Bob Crewe, written by Crewe with The Four Season’s Bob Gaudio. 

The theme is irony. All three feature tough minded, independent young females, endeavoring for autonomy in a man’s world, delivering songs written by powerful men who controlled every aspect of their creation and production. These appeared in the time pre-Women’s Liberation, and demonstrate strength, heartbreak, and a tension that pulls against the undertoe of subservience.

Taken in chronological order:

1. “Poor Little Puppet” was originally recorded by Jan and Dean in 1961 as a sleepy, Everly Brothers clone, and it didn’t do much. But, here, as interpreted by Cathy Carroll, and helmed by Stan Applebaum, the tune takes flight in a punchier, more uptempo arrangement. It charted at 91 on the top 100 - Cathy’s only showing, and the surprise twist at the end is powerful, when the singer, looking in the mirror, admits that she herself is the puppet, whose strings are being controlled by the man whose love she craves.

2. In 1963, The Cookies were on top with “Chains,” the Goffin-King hit, later covered by The Beatles, and “Girls Grow Up Faster Than Boys Do,” (also by those chart-topping songwriters), was perfectly designed for them and their irresistible lead singer Earl-Jean McCrae. When they sing: “I’m everything a girl should be.. 36-21-35,” it feels quite cringe-worthy nowadays. Irresistible is right, because Gerry Goffin proceeded to make a baby with the vocalist, even though his marriage with King remained undissolved until 6 years later. They even continued to write for Earl-Jean, creating (I’m Into Something Good - which she recorded before Herman’s Hermits)

3. In “I Won’t Tell,” from 1964, the singer vows to keep her illicit romance a secret, so as not to hurt her sister. Tracey Dey, born Nora Ferrari in Yonkers, had made a name for herself as the “Teenage Cleopatra” capitalizing on the notoriety of  the Liz Taylor blockbuster. She caught the eye of The Four Season’s maestro, Bob Gaudio when she recorded “Jerry, I’m your Sherry” , playing off the title of the group’s hit ‘Sherry”. Together with the production genius Bob Crewe, they crafted this pop classic the teenage Cleo.  Tracey soon got out of the business, earned a Master’s degree from Columbia, and became a teacher and screenwriter. Clearly, this was a savvy entrepreneur from an early age. (Btw: the original masters of this recording were lost - so, this version was taken directly off a 45 disc). Enjoy!

Was it really a simpler time, way back when? 

As teenagers, Rich and I pined for those older women who seemed to embody the tidal pulse of desire. For me, it was the Delta song-spinner Bobbie Gentry, whose Ode to Billie Joe, a mystery delivered in honeyed, but troubling tones, captured the world's - and, my imagination; for Rich, it was the slinky seductress Joey Heatherton, who complicated his yearnings by aligning herself with Bob Hope on those USO tours during the Viet Nam war. 

The way podcast Stack of 45s would work was that Rich or I would nominate a song to be explored and celebrated, then the other would have a chance to bring forward their choice. In this case, my record, Ode to Billie Joe appeared first, and this inspired Rich to find and re-examine Gone by Joey. 

Enjoyed back to back these episodes bring back some good memories for me. And, hopefully, if you've been with us awhile, you'll enjoy hearing these again, too. And if you're new to the party, you've got a treat ahead of you.

In the mood for some baseball? 

Of course you are; it’s still our national pastime, after all, despite the threat of encroachment by football, soccer, basketball, Nascar and Monster Trucks. And now that the innovation of the pitch clock has trimmed down the times of games, it’s a little more dynamic than it used to be back in those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summers past. 

This World Series has been a humdinger, breaking several records, but it ain't over yet - The series is tied at 3 games each, with the final deciding game tonight. What had seemed like an inevitable win for L.A. after game three, now is in nail-biting doubt. Just goes to show you that, in the words of Yogi Berra - "it ain't over 'til it's over!"

Springsteen: Deliver Me From Nowhere is one of the best depictions of the creative process that I’ve ever seen, exploring where an artist’s ideas come from: those sources, personal and environmental that are processed via one’s family history, dreams, desires - and are then delivered through said artist’s private relationship with their tools - (in this case the Tascam Portastudio, Echoplex reverb unit, and a water-damaged boombox). I was thrilled by that examination, and by Bruce’s steadfast protection of his lo-fi masterpiece when it was being threatened by corporate pressure to compromise. 

Jeremy Allen White is one of America’s finest exemplars of smoldering emotion, and the close ups on Springsteen’s anguished face were a tour de force of inner conflict. The protean Stephen Graham as Bruce’s complicated monster of a father found vivid expression with just a smattering of dialogue. And, Jeremy Strong - an actor capable of the deepest levels of immersion portrays Bruce’s guardian angel of a manager, Jon Landau with such grace, and generous restraint that it made me cry. Kudos to all.

The pace is pokey, and I personally could have done without the manufactured love story in which the actress, Odessa Young has the unenviable task of having to deliver clunky exposition, notably when she psychologizes Bruce for us. 

But, all in all, for a story that chronicles depression and child abuse, the darkness is mitigated by the knowledge that our hero emerges from this crucible to become a happily married family man and cultural hero, and create a timeless work of art. 

The Splendid Bohemians are honored to feature a couple of tributes to The Boss, which recognize his influence and influences: First, a duet with Bruce and Pete Seeger, the Patron Saint and Johnny Appleseed of folk music, singing Bruce’s still relevant- (sadly)- homage to John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath: The Ghost of Tom Joad.  And, we’ll close with Ryan Adams’ honorable rendition of Nebraska, the title song from those sources which are celebrated in Warren Zanes book and Scott Cooper’s film

IT IS TIME TO WALK WITH THE ZOMBIES! '
WELCOME TO THE PORTAL NO ONE LEAVES ALIVE.
HALLOWEEN IS UPON US, AND WHAT BETTER WAY TO CELEBRATE THIS TERRIFYING TRADITION THAN A "DIG THIS" JOURNEY INTO THE THE NIGHT OF THE VAMPIRE.
YOU WILL BE TRANSPORTED AND EDUCATED WITH DELIGHTFUL DREAD AS WE VISIT THE TALE OF ROCK AND REAPER ICON ROKY ERICKSON, A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE SPOOKY SPLENDOR OF HALLOWEEN AND THE MEMORY OF JOHN ZACHERLE, THE HEAD MASTER OF THE GHOUL SCHOOL OF OUR YOUTH.
ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!!!

PLEASE VISIT "DIG THIS" AT  https://www.buzzsprout.com/2028913 FOR A VARIETY OF ENTERTAINING MUSIC AND POP CULTURE  PODCASTS!!

This nation’s troubled history with Manifest Destiny will continue to haunt us for some time. Throughout the decades some Native voices have emerged and contributed to the ongoing cultural conversation: most recently on the Broadway stage, on film, and television, and this awareness might move us towards some, if not restitution for atrocities past, at least a dialogue that might point the way towards the future.

Today Double Trouble features the efforts of two important Americana artists, neither one Native American, but both identifying with them. Johnny Cash believed that he was part Cherokee- (a notion disproved by DNA). They both raised their voices in advocacy with the dispossessed. Pete La Farge wrote The Ballad of Ira Hayes, which Johnny Cash delivers here, and then Mr. La Farge himself mourns the disappearance of the Coyote as a consequence of Capitalism’s rapacious destruction of sacred lands.

JOHNNY CASH

From his 1963 concept album “Bitter Tears: Ballads of the American Indian”, The Ballad of Ira Hayes tells the story of a WW2 War Hero, one of the men raising the flag over Iwo Jima in that iconic photo. Upon returning to the states, Ira had to confront the irony of his impossibly low status on home soil, and descended into alcohol addiction and death. Pete La Farge wrote 5 of the songs on Cash’s album, and became known, along with Buffy St. Marie, as one of the most prominent singer-songwriters concerned with Native themes. 

Johnny Cash was a life-long representative of Native peoples, trying through his popular status to bring about an awareness of the wrongs that had been committed in the name of “progress”. 

PETE LA FARGE

Given the focus of his creative output during his short life - he died, age 34, of a stroke - one might assume that Mr. La Farge was Native American, but not so: he was the son of an anthropologist and Pulitzer Prize winning novelist and a Rhode Island heiress. Growing up in New Mexico and Colorado, he developed a love of Native American culture, and that became his artistic touchstone. 

Most famous for The Ballad of Ira Hayes, his tribute to a discarded, fallen hero, the song has been covered by Bob Dylan and Pete Seeger among many others. Here, in Coyote, La Farge channels the mournful sound of the dispossessed animal as it fades away into the ether, after losing its habitat to business interests - an issue we’re still dealing with today. 

What is the fascination that we have with seductive avatars of oblivion? Carolyn Jones as Morticia Addams indoctrinated the adolescent me to the possibilities of the Succubus, and became my tween age, gothic sex symbol; the painting by Pre-Raphaeite John Millet:  Ophelia (who floats beautifully in the river) hung on my dorm wall for years.  Today, Double Trouble features a couple of ice queens who inspire detached sexual delirium, one contemporary, and one long gone, but still as magnetic as when she walked the earth: the enigmatic Lana Del Rey and Andy Warhol’s muse - Nico (nee Christa Paffgen). 

LANA DEL REY

When Lana Del Rey sings “We were born to die,” you know she’s not fooling around. Her voice might be studiously without affect, but you can sense some psychic turmoil underneath. And when she purrs, “you like your girls insane,” she is obviously speaking from experience. Her Greta Garbo air of mystery smolders like an ember that could reignite and singe you at any moment. 

Of course, LDR is vastly more multi-dimensional as an artist than simply existing as a blank canvas on which to project our emo fantasies. Her later work, such as her fifth album, the widely acclaimed “Norman Fucking Rockwell” has generous reserves of humor, complexity, and intelligence to ponder and appreciate.  And, her recent marriage hints at even further explorations of domestic bliss. So maybe our gothic goddess will be embracing life going forward.

NICO

Speaking of blank canvasses on which we can project our fantasies - Nico, the fashion model, turned Chanteuse, was the ultimate receptive surface.  She wasn’t even a singer at first, veering off key as she often did, but her voice with its hypnotic, Germanic drone had its undeniable charms. And, Andy Warhol knew the socko glamor that he was wielding when he saddled the Velvet Underground with her, making her their front person. Who knows if the group, as brilliant as they were, would have garnered any attention initially if it wasn't for Warhol’s 1960s answer to Marlene Dietrich. 

Nico struggled with heroin addiction and died tragically young in a senseless bicycle accident, but before she left us she created, (with the help of Velvet’s veteran John Cale as producer) some unforgettable mantras. Frozen Warnings is one of the most compelling - It’s harmonium and droning viola conjure the sense of tip-toeing across a frozen lake and feeling the ice cracking under your feet as you try to reach the glaciated siren.

At risk of seeming sexist, it must be noted that the two prodigies of the bass featured here are female, and perhaps that, in some sense, informs their approach to their artistry.  Listening to BC by Tal Wilkenfeld, and Esparanza Spalding’s Vague Suspicions, one cannot help but appreciate both the technical precision, and the soulfulness of their musical expression. 

The bass rarely takes the lead in an ensemble - they are usually responsible for holding down the bottom with the drums. However, occasionally, the bassist will step forward into the limelight - Charlie Mingus and Jaco Pastorius come to mind - and, this inversion can lead to some amazing revelations. 

ESPERANZA SPALDING

I was inspired to read that Esperanza Spalding had been afflicted with Juvenile idiopathic Arthritis as a child. That this was to be the launching pad for a career as master of one of the most physically demanding instruments imaginable - the upright bass -, puts me in awe.  (She also plays the violin, guitar, piano and the oboe). Having the ears and instincts of a prodigy, she was given a full scholarship to the Berkelee School of Music, where she was also granted an honorary doctorate and professorship at age 20.

By the way: let’s not neglect to mention her singing, which is miraculous, lifting easily from conversational mode to a soaring airiness, there are unmistakeable echoes of Billie and Ella.  Besides all this, she’s on a mission to make jazz more mainstream - attested by the title of the album Radio Music Society, from which this track derives. If anyone can accomplish this feat, it’s this Grammy Award winner. 

TAL WILKENFELD

I first became aware of Tal Wilkenfeld when I saw Jeff Beck play A Day in the Life at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame ceremonies. There was Beck, looking relaxed and dashing - delicately maneuvering his whammy bar… and to his left stood what looked like a street urchin with wild ringlets, following his every nuance, note for note, wielding a massive Fender bass, which was as big as she was. It was alchemy. Later, I watched the Live at Ronnie Scott’s video where you could really see the two magicians extended celebration. 

She was around 20 at the time, possessed of a preternatural talent, and sidekick to one of the greatest guitarists who ever lived. Since then, the master has left this realm, and the apprentice has stepped forward to become her own front person - living in Nashville, playing with her band, and her calendar is filled with multiple special appearances and collaborations. And, to top it all, she’s jolly. Her sense of humor is obvious, partnering with comedians, Marc Maron, Spinal Tap, and Jeff Ross on their projects. 

DT: STRING THEORY / TELEVISION AND KALEIDOSCOPE

The guitar as we know it has had an illustrious evolution, starting its journey in ancient Mesopotamia, then finding its earliest recognizable incarnation 5 centuries ago in Spain, and continuing to move through various cultures until blossoming into its electric manifestation in the modern era. It was the magic wand to the baby boom generation - suddenly, everybody had to have one to express themselves, along with a garage band with whom to practice their 3 chord fantasies. 

Then, there were the transcendental wizards who blazed trails of such sonic originality that the instrument’s sound never got boring. Jimi Hendrix and Jeff Beck, to name a couple. Most of them were firmly rooted in the blues form. Today we feature two bands (Television and Kaleidoscope) whose unique recorded output, though small, blew minds with their sublime, far-reaching soundscapes - reaching deeply into themselves, and searching widely for other cultural inspirations to make original music no 60s/70s rocker teens had even heard before. 

KALEIDOSCOPE

David Lindley merged his folk cred with Solomon Feldhouse who brought a middle eastern sensibility to the mix, and they struck world-fusion-rock gold. Lindley started off as a banjo picker, but could play anything with strings, and Feldhouse, a Flamenco artist who had grown up in Turkey, was giggling as an accompanist for belly dancers. Theirs was an unlikely,  but unimpeachable partnership.

In this cut from their 1967 debut album, Side Trips, the boys take us on a magical mystery tour through the sanctum of the Egyptian Gardens, where Oud riffs twirl madly through the perfumed air, and scantily clad dancers hypnotize us with their charms. 

TELEVISION

Punk music was completely democratic. It was said that you didn’t have to have chops to play; all you needed was passion. Not so with Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd’s band Television. Their debut album, 1977’s Marquee Moon immediately splintered that myth. The two virtuoso guitarist’s method of meshing their sound together threw down the gauntlet to any aspiring duelists, and their achievement remains unparalleled, and unchallenged. 

It was an intellectual approach heretofore unseen in CBGBs, and the other dives of the lower east side. There was a jazz-like, improvisational element at work, and in the record’s eponymous cut, Marquee Moon, you can hear Verlaine and Lloyd spur each other on to increasingly ecstatic heights.