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Super Elaborate David Bowie Cosplay Costumes
07.27.2021
09:42 am
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If I was a bit younger, I would buy this one. Not for Halloween, but for everyday wear around the house.
 
The other day, whilst looking for something else entirely, I stumbled upon these amazing David Bowie cosplay/Halloween costumes. It really seems quite necessary to me for someone to have done this, you know? This was needed, I believe.

Most of these costumes are by Wanda Cobar Costumes. She also does Freddie Mercury, Elton John and Cherrie Curry cosplay outfits. Check her gear out here.
 

Can you rock and roll with this?
 

Freak out in a white satin daydream, oh yeah…
 

This Ziggy Stardust toddler jumpsuit makes a great gift for when you not sure if it’s a boy or a girl…
 
More Bowie cosplay after the jump…

READ ON
Posted by Richard Metzger
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07.27.2021
09:42 am
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Extreme Record Collecting: Confessions of an analog vinyl snob
07.18.2021
03:00 pm
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Sorry, but this is not going to be one of those analog vs. digital rants that goofball audiophile types like to indulge in at the drop of a hat. In fact I probably should have just called it something like “Why you should never buy new vinyl versions of classic albums.”

Actually I like digital audio just fine. In fact, until four years ago, I’d have told you that I preferred it. SACDs, HDCDs, High Fidelity Pure Audio Blu-Rays, 24-bit HD master audio files, 5.1 surround sound, DSD files—I have a large amount of this kind of material, both on physical media and with another ten terabytes on a computer drive. I like streaming audio very much. Roon is the bomb! Let me be clear, I’ve got no problem with digital audio. Even if I did, 99.9% of all music made these days is produced on a computer, so there’s really no practical way to avoid it. Analog and digital audio are two very separate things and each has its own pluses and minuses. I like them both for different reasons.

Please allow me to state the obvious right here at the outset: Most people WILL NOT GIVE A SHIT about what follows. One out of a hundred maybe, no, make that one out of a thousand. Almost none of you who have read this far will care about this stuff. If you are that one in a thousand person, read on, this was written especially for you.

Everyone else, I won’t blame you a bit if you want to bail.

Continues after the jump…

READ ON
Posted by Richard Metzger
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07.18.2021
03:00 pm
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Song of the Summer: Wet Leg’s ‘Chaise Longue’ is catchier than the Delta variant
07.16.2021
09:36 am
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If this isn’t the catchiest song since, I dunno “Crazy” or “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” then I don’t know what would be. All I know is that I wish this song was 24 hours long and had 2000 verses.

Already feeling a strong “Song of the Summer” vibe about this one. My summer anyway!

So far Wet Leg‘s Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers have only released one song, via the Domino label, and this is it. There’s little information about them, other than what appears on the Domino website:

Amidst a night of hazy scenes in their native Isle of Wight, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers found themselves at the summit of a Ferris wheel.

They decided to start a band. The band is called Wet Leg.

Arming themselves with guitars, a penchant for French disco, effervescent imaginations and a shared love of the The Ronettes and Jane Birkin, through to Ty Segall and Bjork, they set about making some recordings of their own.

Is that a Faust sample loaded into their drum machine?

Wet Leg will be performing next weeked at the Latitude Festival in Suffolk, England. If you go, mask up for God’s sakes!
 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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07.16.2021
09:36 am
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The Voluptuous Folk Music of Karen Black
07.13.2021
08:19 am
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Although she often, and memorably, sang in her onscreen roles—she even wrote all three of the songs she sang in Robert Altman’s Nashville—Oscar-nominated character actress Karen Black never had a parallel career as a musician. However, she did leave behind an album’s worth of original music that was partially produced by recording legends Bones Howe (The Mamas and the Papas, 5th Dimension, Tom Waits, The Turtles) and Elliot Mazer (Neil Young, The Band, Bob Dylan, Linda Ronstadt). The tapes—caked in mold and other things—were taken to her friend, musician Cass McCombs by her husband Stephen Eckelberry. They took three years to repair. Many of the details of the sessions that produced this music were lost to the passing of time. One of the boxes held a cover of “Question” by Moody Blues.

Dreaming of You (1971-1976) gathers these recordings—including six songs recorded with Howe—together for the first time. They have a Laurel Canyon folkie/Judy Collins feel to them and there is a certain mysteriousness to her confessional compositions. Ever the actress, Black would do multiple takes of a song, each time changing her tone, phrasing or cadence. “We went looking for a needle in a haystack, and ended up with a haystack of needles,” McCombs says.

Black duetted with McCombs several times on his albums and he was in the process of setting Black’s words to music when she died. “She’d given me all of her poetry and I was trying to work them into some kind of meter that would work as songs,” he says. They recorded two of them, “I Wish I Knew The Man I Thought You Were” and “Royal Jelly.” These songs are included as a bonus 45 with the vinyl release.

Dreaming of You (1971-1976) is released this Friday, July 16 via Anthology Recordings.
 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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07.13.2021
08:19 am
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Luke Haines: Psychedelic wrestlers & Xmas tree decorated with portraits of every member of The Fall
07.09.2021
12:01 pm
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Pic via @Bob_Fischer
 
Uncanny Island, the very first solo art exhibition by musician and author Luke Haines is on at the Eston Arts Centre through the end of the month. Should you find yourself in North Yorkshire, you should drop by and check it out.

The exhibit features Haines’ psychedelic visions of British wrestlers from the 1970s and early 80s (echoing his 2011 concept album 9 ½ Psychedelic Meditations on British Wrestling of the 1970s & Early ‘80s) and a Christmas tree festooned with ornaments bearing the likeness of everyone who was ever in the Fall. (The band had 66 members during Mark E. Smith’s five decade run, in case you were wondering.)

Luke Haines’ latest album is Setting The Dogs on The Post Punk Postman.

I asked the artist a few questions via email.

Is this your first solo art exhibit?

Luke Haines: Yep. First solo exhibition. I’m pleased it’s in the north—away from curators and the dull art people.

Tell me about the Fall Xmas tree?

I’d painted a MES bauble for a friend’s Xmas present. The obvious next stage was to paint every member of the Fall, but I had no reason to embark on such a futile endeavour. Then the artist Neil McNally asked me if I wanted to have an exhibition. It was then that I realized it was time for the Fall Xmas tree.

I know that you’ve described your work as outsider art in the past, but with the Lou Reeds, the Hawkwind paintings, the Maoist Monkees—and of course the psychedelic wrestlers which refer to your own album—it seems more like you’re doing something more akin to “rock snob art”? How do you see it?

My stuff is more like sitcom art. I tend to do the same thing: put popular or unpopular culture figures in absurd situations. Like putting Hawkwind in a balloon carrying esoteric knowledge (The North Sea Scrolls) back to their squat in Ladbroke Grove. If Hawkwind actually did this the world would be improved immeasurably. In the show there are a couple of paintings depicting wrestlers having diabolical fever dreams about It’s A Royal Knockout. I’d like to do a whole art show about It’s A Royal Knockout. Maybe a straightforward reenactment.

How often are you asked to comment on the art of Ronnie Wood, Ringo Starr or Paul Stanley?

I think that worrying about pop stars inflicting their art on an ungrateful world will be the least of our problem post covid. There will a tsunami of ‘lockdown art washing up. It will all be terrible.
 

Mark E Smith Xmas tree bauble
 

The Fall Xmas Tree in situ.
 

Fall Xmas Tree (detail)
 

Liver Sausage (Mark “Rollerball” Rocco)
 

Brian Glover
 

Dickie Davies
 

 
Eston Arts Centre, 176 -178 High Street, Eston, Middlesbrough, TS6 9JA.

Posted by Richard Metzger
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07.09.2021
12:01 pm
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Where did this popular children’s farting song originally come from? (+ the Doctor Who connection!)
06.25.2021
05:42 pm
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Rufe Davis was an American actor, singer and “imitator of sounds.” He was best known for his “rural” comedic radio act, “Rufe Davis and the Radio Rubes” during the 1930s, for being a co-star along with Hoot Gibson, John Wayne, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers in dozens of Hollywood B-Westerns and for his role as “Floyd Smoot,” the train conductor of the “Hooterville Cannonball” on the 60s CBS TV comedy series, Petticoat Junction.

Davis’ rendition of “The Old Sow Song” was his musical calling card for obvious reasons and something that those of us of a certain age might remember from a popular 60s kiddie record made by Mel Blanc and others called Bozo And His Pals (which is where I first heard it—and loved it—as a tyke), although it was originally released as a 78rpm record many years before that. The same song was also given away as a cardboard record in cereal boxes. His version of the song was probably what kept the song alive in the 60s and 70s, and even beyond, but there was another famous version that we’ll get to in due course.

Maybe you heard “The Old Sow Song” from one of your grandparents singing it to you? They might’ve heard it in a vaudeville theater. It might also be something that was passed down from long before that, an actual working class English folk song. I’ve also seen it described as a Yorkshire farmer’s song. It’s claimed by Scotland and Ireland, too. One of the earliest recorded versions was one done in 1928 by Albert Richardson. It was also recorded by Cyril Smith and Rudy Vallee, as well as by opera singer Anna Russell. Novelty songsmith Leslie Sarony did his hit version of “The Old Sow Song” in 1934. Apparently John Ritter performed the song on Three’s Company but sadly I could find no clip of this. According to YouTube comments, Hee-Haw featured more than one rendition of “The Old Sow Song.”

Perhaps many of you learned “The Old Sow Song” at summer camp or grade school, where I am guessing it can still be heard to this day, since children’s songs with farting noises never truly die. This evergreen sing-a-long is up there with “Bingo was his name-o” and “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” but neither of them has blowing raspberries as an integral part of the song. Can you imagine what the sheet music must’ve looked like?

I’m truly delighted that a vintage visual representation of “The Old Sow Song” exists. I don’t have an exact year for the clip, but it’s described as a “talkie” or “soundie” in the descriptions of the various uploads which might indicate that this was an early sound film, and yet there is a Hitler reference, so I think it might be a bit later than the uploaders think. Maybe an early kinescope?

I high recommend taking any—and all—drugs that you have handy before hitting play. If Rufe Davis’s face doesn’t turn green and if time doesn’t seem to bend like taffy and come to a complete standstill while you watch this, then you clearly haven’t taken enough drugs. So take more.
 

 


 
After the jump, the Doctor Who connection!

READ ON
Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.25.2021
05:42 pm
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The Loudest Band in the World: The epic story of Motörhead gets the graphic novel treatment


The cover of the upcoming graphic novel, ‘Motörhead: The Rise of the Loudest Band in the World’ due in September 2021.

When it came time for author David Calcano to pen the graphic novel take on Motörhead’s illustriously loud, 40-year career, he, the folks at Fantoons, and illustrator Mark Irwin (fittingly a former art director for Heavy Metal magazine), took the project very seriously. You may recall that Calcano has authored various other music-related graphic novels on artists such as Billie Holliday, and a few eclectic coloring books featuring Frank Zappa and Marillion (!). Calcano’s latest graphic novel, the 144 page Motörhead: The Rise of the Loudest Band in the World, (due on September 7th, 2021), begins Motörhead’s debaucherous story with Lemmy (as it should) back when Kilmister was working as a tutor/instructor at a horse riding school in North Wales. At the time, the teenager and soon-to-be-hellraiser thought working with horses was what he would do for a living. It was, after all, according to Lem, a great way to “get along with women.” To back up this legend about the legendary Lemmy, here are a few shots of Lem and his horse friends.
 

Lemmy: “I used to ride horses a lot, there wasn’t much music then, rock and roll and that sort of thing.” Image via Twitter.
 

Lemmy’s former Hawkwind bandmate Dave Brock also recalls Kilmister’s fondness for horses. The photo above shows Brock alongside Lemmy sitting on a “spirited” horse named “Dynamite” at a ranch in Kansas. This photo is so metal it makes my hair hurt.
 
Thankfully, after his ears were exposed to artists such as Little Richard and Elvis (specifically the jam “All Shook Up”), Lemmy’s work with horses was history, though equines would continue to be a part of his life, for nearly all of his life. Here’s a look at some of the illustrations from Motörhead: The Rise of the Loudest Band in the World which wouldn’t be complete without a few panels of Lemmy clutching a large bottle of his beloved drug of choice, speed, and a naked chick. 
 

 

 

 

 

 
HT: Metal Injection

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
A super-cringey interview with Lemmy Kilmister & Sigmund Freud’s great-grandaughter in bed
Lemmy Kilmister gets ambushed by three of his ex’s on TV in the late 90s
The Stranglers’ 1979 cricket match against the UK music press, featuring Lemmy and a bag of drugs
Well that sucks: That time Lemmy passed out after getting too many blowjobs in 1980
How Motörhead became the ‘Loudest Band in the World’ & the fake teen journalist who heard it all

Posted by Cherrybomb
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06.14.2021
04:45 pm
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That time horror vixen Caroline Munro recorded with Cream, 1967
06.07.2021
09:14 pm
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A few days ago, whilst idly wasting time on the internet, I googled some images of 70s horror vixen/Bond girl Caroline Munro. As you do. Anyway an image of her with huge 80s hair (and Gary Numan!) caught my eye. That led me to a 2019 Guardian article that touched upon a musical project from the mid-1960s, from when she was just a teenager, that might be of interest to our readers.

The story goes that a photograph of Munro taken when she was 16 won the Evening News’ Face of the Year competition which had been judged by David Bailey.  Fame beckoned, and so did an offer to make a pop record:

In 1967, Munro, who had sung in her church choir, released her first single, a breathy ditty called “Tar and Cement,” recorded at Abbey Road. Her backing band was Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker, better known as Cream, alongside the future Yes guitarist Steve Howe. She remembers Baker driving her up the Mall in an open-topped Jaguar to the photoshoot; an image in keeping with the Austin Powers-ish tang of her life at this time. But it’s the B-side, This Sporting Life, the 70-year-old Munro sings to me today over coffee. “‘I’m getting tired of hanging around / Think I will marry and settle down / Because this old night life / This old sport life / Is killing me.’ I was only 16, just out of convent school when I sang that. It was ridiculous, really. I didn’t know anything about living a sporting life.”

The session was produced by Mark Wirtz, then coming off the hit of Keith West’s A Teenage Opera. It’s not bad at all!
 

 
The single’s A side, “Tar and Cement” is also pretty decent:
 

 

 
Bonus, “Pump Me Up,” the song Munro cut for Gary Numan’s Numa label in 1984. It’s really a pity there’s no music video for this song.
 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.07.2021
09:14 pm
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‘Messer’s Circulating Library’: The Occult Soundscapes of Drew Mulholland
06.07.2021
05:45 am
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The Guardian referred to artist/musician Drew Mulholland as “the putative godfather” of the psychogeographic rock movement. Mulholland’s idiosyncratic compositional techniques (for that is the right word) include “sampling” the atmosphere of a particular location and incorporating this resonance/mood/memory into his soundscapes. Formerly trading under the name Mount Vernon Arts Lab, he has staked out a territory between psychogeography and hauntology, inspired by séances, Cold War architecture, desolate places and the occult. Mulholland has collaborated with the likes Isobel Campbell, Sonic Boom, Teenage Fanclub’s Norman Blake, Adrian Utley from Portishead and Barry 7 of Add N to (X). He has also worked with Coil, which… makes a lot of sense!

The subject of Mulholland’s latest project is a strange bookstore recalled from childhood. It sounds like the evil twin of Brian Eno’s On Land or the soundtrack to the infernal rites of a 19th century secret society and comes in a slickly published, limited edition object d’art record jacket from the Library of the Occult label. (If you are interested in a physical copy on vinyl, you should act quickly as they are nearly all sold.) His Patreon account can be found here and you can contact him about the creation of original music pressed onto a bespoke handcrafted record made just for you. Or for someone else.

What was the inspiration behind Messer’s Circulating Library?

Messer’s stood across from my Aunt Nan’s flat in Glasgow, and was a mixture of borrowing library, second hand bookshop, newsagent, and tobacconist. Even in the early 70s it was a place outside time, dark, musty, and seemed to have a personality, a very special atmosphere. I also remember they had a print of Francis Barrett hanging above the door. A copy of Witchcraft and Black Magic by Peter Haining, with paintings by Jan Parker, was my Aunt Nan’s first purchase from there, and her excitement showing it to me coupled with those images and her taking me over to the window in order for her to point the location of Messer’s out to me all seemed like a dozen firecrackers going off in my head at once.
 

 
So it was an actual, real shop?

Absolutely, it was at 624 Alexandra Parade in Dennistoun opposite Wood Street until the mid 1970s.
 

 
How did you create the sounds of ectoplasmic formation heard on the album? Actually let me ask that in a different way, what was the original “input” source material that you manipulated? Describe your working methods. You often begin with field recordings, right?

Yes, field recordings are my basic ingredients whether it’s recording the locations used in The Wicker Man, the ambient sounds in the Anatomy Museum at the university, or a 1930s statistical analysis calculating machine.  The location is fundamentally important to the work, from them the ideas spring. For Messer’s Circulating Library I went to its former location and recorded inside the deli that is there now and also the approach to it at different times of day.  Then once I’ve catalogued those sounds I get to work and see what they suggest, including titles.  The “ectoplasm formation” was made of a few elements from the recordings but the main reasons they work is varispeed and processing, and especially as a secondary consideration the manipulation of reverbs.
 

Painting by Jan Parker
 
I have to say that it does sound genuinely scary, as if you’ve captured the peak moment of some infernal occurrence. It’s got a genuinely evil vibe, not a corny horror movie vibe. How do you achieve that? What is that sonic quality that makes these pieces so intense?

I think it must be the reverbs, it/they take those sounds…somewhere. You may well believe that you are controlling them but I think that’s the point where something else kicks in. That’s the time the titles usually suggest themselves, too. ‘‘Horror Hee Black Pods,” “Marshe Benediction,” and “Fierce Chemistry” all came that way on this album. What I’ve learned is to totally immerse yourself in the sound and completely trust your instinct

I never regarded it as ‘‘evil’’ per se, however my introduction to Messer’s was through the feeling I got being around my grandma’s kitchen table when she was reading the leafs, pondering coincidences, or predicting the future, and of course Jan Parker’s paintings did terrify and intrigue me in equal parts… so many questions there. So I always connected the Haining book and the lo-fi occultism in the back kitchen with the sense and atmosphere of the shop, which I always found to be pleasant, welcoming, and an adventure. It was all about atmospheres.
 

“Mandy Rakes Up the Leaves Again”
 
Tell me about your Syd Barrett piece.

That was great fun, I was giving a talk during the Alchemical Landscape conference at Cambridge and the next morning I naturally started wandering around making recordings (which were released earlier this year). Being a complete Syd fanatic, I, of course, had to pay my respects at his boyhood home on Hills Road. When I got there the gardeners had just finished work and lots of detritus was still lying on the path so I collected some and glued them onto card, cut it into a 7’’ circle, played it on my turntable, and recorded it. Afterwards I ground down what was left of the leaves and twigs and added their dust into the paint I was using back at Corpus Christi College to create a abstract painting. Which I still have.

I realize now that it’s just the same process I use for creating sounds, using an artefact from a relevant location.
 

 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.07.2021
05:45 am
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Easy Listening Acid Trip: An Elevator Ride through Sixties Psychedelic Pop
06.03.2021
10:20 am
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Author Joseph Lanza is an expert’s expert on some of the more enigmatic corners of popular and unpopular culture. In numerous books he’s written about Muzak®, long forgotten crooners, obsessive film directors like Ken Russell and Nicolas Roeg, bland pop songs, the history of cocktails, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Possessing an expertise on matters from Mantovani to Leatherface, Lanza’s work is quirky and unique. His latest book, Easy Listening Acid Trip: An Elevator Ride through Sixties Psychedelic Pop (Feral House) covers a musical genre that most people have no idea even existed.

It’s bound to send prices skyrocketing on Discogs for this kind of stuff. Like all of his books, it’s a fun read.

I asked Joseph Lanza some questions over email.
 

 
In your books, you display an erudition about obscure popular culture, and you seem to have staked out a territory, where others have feared to tread. How did you become interested in, and an expert on, elevator music and pop orchestral cover versions of psychedelic hits?

I’ve been curious about this kind of music since my high-school days.  While listening to the garden-variety rock and pop along with my peers, I was also fascinated by the easy-listening instrumental FM station that my parents often kept on in the background.  They seemed to be broadcasting phantom orchestras and choruses that covered many current songs, and I remember being amazed to hear the Ray Conniff Singers do a version of Gordon Lightfoot’s “If You Could Read My Mind.” Though their vocals were engineered to be more background than foreground, the song seemed all the more haunting with its references to old-time movies and ghosts.  Its subject matter was close to the ideas and images in Roger Corman’s 1967 movie The Trip, which helped to introduce LSD themes to the masses.  The Conniff recording has a spectral appeal that, for me, brought out this message more than the original record.

In college, I would listen to recording artists like Nico by day, and at night, I’d turn on the local elevator-music station. It sounded like tunes from a parallel place, and I liked this. At the same time, I recall standing in a bank line, hearing similar music from the ceiling speakers, and seeing what looked like a thermostat dial on the wall; it was really a Muzak volume setting.
 

 
Can I assume that you mainly listen to this sort of music?

I’ve collected a lot of this music through the years and listen to it much of the time.  But I also like sixties pop and folk rock by Donovan, The Searchers, and even the echo-drenched ballads produced by Joe Meek.  Peer Raben’s music to the Fassbinder films is also appealing, and Raben had expressed Mantovani’s influence in some of his work.

What is it about this sort of fare that captured your attention?

It played almost everywhere, in different places, and it attracted me more with the passing years.  I wondered about the people and the studios that put these sessions together.  This music was not the product of some indifferent machine but by reputable session players who also did backgrounds to some pop albums and Top 40 songs.  Vinnie Bell is one example.  He contributed to Muzak sessions but also played his “water guitar” on Ferrante & Teicher’s “Theme to Midnight Cowboy.”  The term “elevator music” has accumulated pejorative connotations, but it’s ultimately a positive term. It’s music that, like an elevator, floats in the air, often between destinations: airports, hotel lobbies, and malls And it triggers sometimes-ambiguous emotions.  In the late ‘40s, Muzak and the Otis Elevator Company ran an ad in Time magazine, showing happy elevator passengers, and touting how, thanks to “Music by Muzak,” “the cares of the business day are now wafted away on the notes of a lilting melody.”  This gives the term an historical context.  And in the late sixties, at the height of the “counterculture” and political violence, easy-listening tunes like Paul Mauriat’s “Love is Blue” played on the same Top 40 stations that also played the Doors and Jefferson Airplane. During my research for the book Elevator Music, Brad Miller, who’d engineered and produced the early Mystic Moods Orchestra albums, told me that they were also popular among Bay Area youth.  He claimed, “the pop music at that time was trying to provide more texture as opposed to the usual electric rock bands.”  The psychedelic appeal was not like a Jetsons-inspired vision of the future but a melancholic gaze into the past that often revived old sounds from the British music hall, American vaudeville, and Tin Pan Alley.  This helps explain why easy-listening (with its emphasis on traditional melody) and psychedelia formed an uncanny merger.  Even the Rolling Stones took the time to go back to their European roots with ditties like “She’s a Rainbow.”
 

 
Have you met many others who share your interest in this most specific of musical genres, or are you a bit of a lone wolf?

In 1984, when Muzak celebrated its 50th Anniversary, I contacted the company and got a folder full of information about its history.  Later, as I started writing Elevator Music in the early ‘90s, I was meeting and talking with several programmers who had worked at Muzak.  I also had extended conversations with some who had programmed for easy-listening instrumental channels, or the so-called “Beautiful Music” stations, which were among FM’s most popular formats.  Then, going into the ‘80s, the format gradually ceded to “Adult Contemporary,” which replaced Percy Faith, Ferrante & Teicher, and the Hollyridge Strings with the likes of Neil Diamond, Frank Sinatra, and Barbra Streisand.  We got blasted with “foreground music” and were eventually robbed of a musical background.

Today, I am far from being a “lone wolf” in liking this music.  You can go to YouTube and type in “Muzak Stimulus Progression,” “easy-listening instrumental music,” or any particular recording artist like Paul Mauriat or Franck Pourcel, to find many fans leaving messages about how they like these recordings and miss their presence in public places or on the home hi-fi. Some reminisce about a long ago and far away time when such sounds permeated the malls, shopping plazas, and supermarkets during their childhoods.
 

 
Who do you find are the greatest practitioners of the easy-listening acid cover version genre?

My favorites are the Hollyridge Strings, especially their albums of songs by the Beatles during the Sgt. Pepper years.  Their versions of “A Day in the Life” and “Strawberry Fields Forever” are heavenly, and they even had the gumption to play an echo-redolent, orchestral cover of “I am the Walrus.”  Both David Rose and the Johnny Arthey Orchestra did great versions of Donovan’s “Wear Your Love Like Heaven.”  As early as 1965, both Rose and James Last record released their interpretations of “Mr. Tambourine Man.”
 

 
Are there any particular numbers in the Spotify playlist you compiled that you wanted to comment on?

Spotify did not seem to have many of the tracks I wanted, but among the ones I did find, the 101 Strings’ version of “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” is a favorite because it got released not long after Scott McKenzie’s original 1967 hit.  It reinforces that fascinating contrast between background and foreground.  The Percy Faith Strings provide a mellifluous take on “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.” A wild card in the bunch is the Shadows’ “Wonderful Land” from 1962.  Its combination of spacey surf guitars with Norrie Paramor’s lush orchestra foreshadowed the easy-listening psychedelia that would emerge just three years later.  The same applies to James Last’s version of “Telstar.”  Into the ‘80s, the Wallis Blue Orchestra provided an intriguing tribute to David Bowie’s “Space Oddity.” Though many associate it with the early ‘70s glitter era, the song fits more in the last gasps of the psychedelic years because Bowie released it in 1969, around the time we landed on the moon. Major Tom is floating in space, but his mind is on returning to a home he’ll probably never see again.  As an easy instrumental, even without the lyrics, the song’s mood seems even more wistful than on the original.  That’s how I appreciate easy-listening psychedelia in general.
 

 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.03.2021
10:20 am
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