Outstanding youtube video put together here for this song. Excellent use of worldly 1960s-era footage highlights the fact that what is all around us will one day disappear, along with... us.
"Wise men and fools, two will get you five. You'll never get out of this world alive."
2. Daniel Johnston - Funeral Home
The nervous laughter of his audience really adds to the wallop.
"I'm goin' to the funeral and I'm never coming back."
3. Quasi - My Coffin
Morbid despair with a crisp sense of humor and a fine pride in craftsmanship.
"I'm beveling the edges to make it nice and strong."
4. Wreckless Eric - Final Taxi
The English working class vocal delivery is somehow incredibly fitting to the subject at hand.
"There's only one destination in the final taxi."
And, finally, my favorite "Screw Death, You Ruthless Bastard" song...
5. Eels - The Medication Is Wearing Off
Pain is a part of life. A touching witness to the hurt that comes with being left behind.
"See this watch she gave me? Well it still ticks away."
I mean to take nothing away from those who are currently acknowledging the enormous talent and huge influence that the late Lou Reed had on the rock and roll landscape, most essentially with the Velvet Underground. However, this might be a good time to give some public recognition to another man who richly deserves your acclaim and then some.
So many Reed tributes have referenced his iconic song "Walk on the Wild Side" that it would be pointless to list just a few here. A recent Google News search came up with 64,800 hits for that song in the wake of Reed's death.
And with good reason. The song has a unique sound that is both perfect for its era - the bleak, tired, post-Flower Child early 1970s - and timeless at the same time. The sleepy sax, the signature "Do da do da do" "colored girls" backup vocals and Reed's own restrained narrative delivery make up for the sleazy, limiting lyrics about a particularly seamy underbelly of New York City.
But above all what makes the song truly great is its core feature - the brilliant bass lines of a man by the name of Herbie Flowers.
Flowers was one of those legions of incredibly talented sessions players that were ubiquitous in the music business in the '60s and '70s. I can give my own rather limited description of the role Flowers played in music of the time and his crucial contribution to this iconic song but this short video clip says it all:
Watch Flowers explain how he wrapped an upright bass around a bass guitar to achieve the evocative double tone captured in the tune. It's quite riveting, actually. A historical musical moment unfolds right before your eyes.
What really makes Flowers special in my mind is not the fact that once upon a time he came up with one of the very best bass lines in rock and roll history. Actually, he did it TWICE.
Harry Nilsson's 1971 album "Nilsson Schmilsson" contains the classic track "Jump into the Fire." It's kind of sad that since 1990 it's been known as "the helicopter song in Goodfellas" because it deserves to stand on its own as one hell of a killer tune.
And once again, Flowers' bass work is front and center. It goes without saying (just listen) that he is the heart and soul of the entire song right from the very beginning. But that beginning is truly legendary. Flowers' bass is the musical equivalent of bouncing a Superball off the concrete floor of your childhood home's cold, wood-paneled basement on a hot 1970s air conditioner-less summer day. And yet it sounds every bit as fresh and exciting today. A unique sound for its era AND timelessness - Herbie strikes again!
When we get to the 3:57 mark and the tragic Jim Gordon's drum solo the sheer skill of the session player is on full display. Flowers' bass jam joins him at 4:43 and the results are intoxicating.
This is music with professional acumen AND a human touch. This is rock and roll artistry.
So while you mourn the passing of Lou Reed take a second to appreciate that his most famous moment would never have happened without the sublime talents of a session player by the name of Herbie Flowers.
The USA Network had a show in the amazing early days of cable called Night Flight that was a potpourri of rock and roll, B-movies and other assorted oddities. As part of its programming, it ran a Los Angeles local cable show called New Wave Theater that was dedicated to the growing independent music scene in L.A. in the early 1980s.
The host, Peter Ivers, was best friends with the creator of Animal House and stars like John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd. He was murdered in 1983 and the case was never solved, although the director of New Wave Theater is apparently a top suspect:
Although the mystery of Ivers’ death isn't solved as such his NWT partner David Jove is fingered as far and away the most likely suspect for his murder. The most startling aspect of this is the revelation that the ”megalomaniac bully” David Jove was also apparently David Schneiderman aka "The Acid King", a character who features prominently in British 60s counter-culture chronicles as the shadowy figure who infamously supplied the drugs at the Redlands bust and then conveniently disappeared when Jagger and Richards were arrested, amid dark suggestions later on that the whole thing was a set-up engineered by Schneiderman/Jove.
This episode of New Wave Theater was made in the wake of his murder. Interesting to think that his murderer may have made the show. While there is a ghoulish fascination with this particular episode, what is more intriguing is getting to watch a show with such individual character from back in the day after scrolling through all the scripted "reality" crap on TV today that is totally devoid of real personality, real people and real opinions.
It's simply amazing how corporations have literally banned individual identity from our television sets because they see it as a barrier to increased profits.
And yes, if you watch the Honda Scooters ad featuring an absurdly young Adam Ant being devoured by Grace Jones at the 12:06 mark of the youtube video you can see the corporate behemoth taking aim at the New Wavers.
But of course this is in perfect keeping with the cycle of artistry in modern capitalist America:
First, something is good and makes no money. Then it is good and makes a bit of money. Then it is making money but still sort of good. Then it is making big money and who cares if it's any good. Then it's about making as much money as possible and it totally sucks.
Which makes the following video from 1977 even more interesting:
A couple of points:
a. In attacking the burgeoning punk rock fad, I love how aging promoter Bill Graham immediately throws the Nazi card at something he personally isn't profiting from (6:04 mark). He comes across as a guy who made a ton of loot in the '60s and can't figure out how to keep the money train rolling in the post-Watergate '70s. He really has nothing to offer to the conversation at all but he's there because he wants to co-opt something he doesn't remotely understand.
b. You can see that Kim Fowley is every bit as business oriented as Graham yet truly understands what is happening. His dismissal of punk rock at the 8:48 mark as self-limiting and trendy was dead-on. You can tell Fowley, back in 1977, can clearly foresee the rise of bands like New Order and the whole "college rock" or "alternative rock" movement of the 1980s: smart, melodic and power-catchy music. Sharp eye, Mr. Fowley.
This is in theory how capitalism is meant to operate. The street-smart guy with his pulse on what is really happening getting ahead of the curve and profiting from his knowledge. One can see how this would benefit and boost cultural innovation. Alas, in terms of culture today, it is clear that this playing field no longer exists in even the slightest way.
Giant corporations dominate our television networks, our movie makers and our music companies. Giant corporations do not look to nurture and develop the next big thing. They are not seriously trying to get ahead of the curve. Rather, they look to co-opt and profit off of whatever they can for as long as they can.
Our cycle of artistry is stuck in endgame overdrive. The main goal is to find something that will make as much money as possible without any concern for quality whatsoever.
Our cultural decision-makers today are all aging Bill Grahams trying to hold onto their moneymakers. The savvy Kim Fowleys are prevented from nurturing something new and the result is the American public is fed a tasteless gruel of safe, dull and predictable fare. That it is increasingly sexually explicit and scatological only reinforces the artistic bankruptcy of it all.
"Show me an artist and forget the trend," Kim Fowley says, quoting legendary music executive Clive Davis.
We have no artists today for our corporate cultural oligarchs are only interested in maximizing the trend.
