Buffalo Springfield - S/T - Side 1

01 - For What It's Worth
02 - Go And Say Goodbye
03 - Sit Down I Think I Love You
04 - Nowadays Clancy Can't Even Sing
05 - Hot Dusty Roads
06 - Everybody's Wrong

Before there were supergroups, there was Buffalo Springfield. That from the group came Stephen Stills, Neil Young and Richie Furay—three musicians whose distinct personalities transcended the group soon after ‘For What It’s Worth’ was recorded and released in response to the Sunset Strip riots of the fall of 1966—certainly creates that impression. Only Furay would continue to make music within the group concept after Buffalo Springfield disintegrated in the spring of 1968. When Stills and Young would work together afterwards, it would be as a collective, most often in the on-again, off-again partnership of (David) Crosby, Stills, (Graham) Nash & Young.
Their debut release, which hit stores at the tail end of 1966 and was titled simply Buffalo Springfield, remains an audacious and assured introduction. One reason is that the group’s fusion of folk with rock, along with the occasional country flourish, was one achieved without an overt debt to Bob Dylan. Another is that the album consists of all original material—seven of the songs written by Stills, the other five by Young.
Most of them are fueled by the vocal blend of Stills and Furay. It’s a tight harmony based on how their voices merged together rather than how they complemented each other. ‘Go and Say Goodbye,’ which opens the album, is a prime example of its potency. Written by Stills, the song is one of several on the LP that takes a mature, clear-headed view of romance. Here, it is in the insistence to man up and to do the right thing in ending a relationship. As Stills and Furay proclaim, “brother, you know you can’t run away and hide / is it you don’t want to see her cry / is that way you won’t go and say goodbye.” The song’s hopped-up country beat declares Stills’ allegiance with the nascent move towards country-rock, moving in the same direction as Mike Nesmith of the Monkees, another progenitor of country-rock.
Stills’ ‘Hot Dusty Roads,’ laid-back and carefree, is refreshing in its rejection of artifice. Its opening lines are particularly memorable: “I don’t tell no tales about no hot dusty roads / I’m a city boy and I stay at home.” He sings with a refined sense of soul; a little bit sly and a little bit seductive. A song like this was one side of Buffalo Springfield at the beginning—unhurried, keen to explore the touches of pop craft that were beyond run of the mill. On ‘Hot Dusty Roads,’ it was in the contrast of the languidness of its A section with the switch to the top of the beat on the bridge.
Young’s ‘Nowadays Clancy Can’t Even Sing,’ one of three compositions of his on the album on which Furay sang lead, ping-pongs from an aching country shuffle in 2/4 to a whirling waltz before returning to the shuffle with Young’s harmonica adding to the song’s deep and profound sadness.  From: https://www.listeningsessions.ca/p/buffalo-springfield-the-beginning

Fairport Convention - Lord Marlborough / The Bonny Black Hare

A.L. Lloyd sang The Bonny Black Hare accompanied by fiddler Dave Swarbrick in 1965 on the Topic theme album of traditional songs of love and lust, The Bird in the Bush. He noted:

Psychiatrists tell us the cowboy’s ready gun is a “potency affirmation”. Well, maybe. Certainly, to identify sex-relations with ordnance display is an old joke. Cupid with his bow and arrows is but the fore-runner of those sailors in the bawdy songs who fire their cannon and hole their girl amidships and fall asleep with an empty shot-locker. Here, suitably enough, the central image is a sporting gun with its punning target the black hare. Not many erotic songs put the matter so delicately and yet graphically as this good-natured open-air piece, whose sly humour is accentuated by the elusive bichronal rhythm of the tune. Is the song Irish? It was got from an immigrant potato-lifter near Walberswick, but he learnt it in England. Vance Randolph found a version among the Ozark hillfolk, too coarse to publish.

Martin Carthy sang The Bonny Black Hare on his and Dave Swarbrick’s 1967 album Byker Hill; this was reissued on their compilation album This Is... Martin Carthy: The Bonny Black Hare and Other Songs. An early live recording with Dave Swarbrick at the Folkus Folk Club in 1966 is available on Both Ears and the Tail. Another one, with Martin Carthy and Dave Swarbrick singing in duet at the Albert Hole, Bristol, in 1993 was included in the Dave Swarbrick anthology Swarb!. Martin Carthy commented in the original recording’s sleeve notes:

The notion of identifying intercourse with ordnance, as in The Bonny Black Hare, is as old as Cupid with his bow and arrow. Just as old is the intuition connecting the images of love and hunting, as in the jokey southern counties song called The Furze Field. Restoration bucks were fond of making songs on this theme but were only annexing an ancient (perhaps sacred) piece of folk symbology. The song seems rare although it has been reported in an unmistakably British form in upper Arkansas. This version was collected from an Irish labourer, Mr Morrow, at Walberswick, Suffolk, in 1938. His tune is a member of the widespread melody family called Lough Lein but his rhythm was not very clear. Some versions he sang in a standard 9/8 (3+3+3) others a bit curtailed into a ’mixed’ 8/8 (3+2+3).

Fairport Convention sang Bonny Black Hare on their 1971 album Angel Delight and as the B-side of their single Rubber Band / Bonny Black Hare.  

From: https://mainlynorfolk.info/lloyd/songs/thebonnyblackhare.html

Agouti - Summertime

Agouti’s Nodes is a dream pop stroll through indie, alternative and psychedelic rock. The band is fronted by producer and songwriter Carmen Caruso on lead vocals and bass. The vocals are forefront with layered rock and indie styled vocals that come through with clarity and strength. The arrangements are psychedelic with swirling synth, layered vocal harmonies, overdriven guitar lines and steady driving bass and drums. The sound balances psychedelic rock with pop sensibilities for a charming album with wonderful arrangements and catchy songs.
Agouti is from San Francisco, California and is the project of Carmen Caruso. Agouti is inspired by the 60s and 70s psych rock with modern pop influences. The first single from the album was released in 2016 titled, ‘Summertime’ followed by ‘Chameleon’ in 2017. Agouti’s Nodes was released in May of 2019 and is now available on green vinyl through Agouti’s website.
Nodes is driven by the bass and synth which together develop the primary instrumental arrangements for the album. There are clear influences from 70s progressive psychedelic rock movement and contemporary synth pop. The guitarist Dakota Salazar lays down excellent guitar lines to enhance the vibe of the album. The guitar is most impressive on the performance in the song ‘The Point”.
The lyrical content of the album is introspective and dreamy. Poetic descriptions of life and the city environment are sprinkled throughout the songs. Equally important is the use of natural imagery including summertime, mountains, and rivers. The emotional content in the lyrics comes forward amidst the lyrical descriptions. A longing and forlorn reflection on the past and the progress of relationships also stretches across the music. The overall effect is poetic with Carmen Caruso’s wonderful voice and her ability to transmit an effective feeling through each song.  From: https://www.powmagazine.org/music-reviews/melt-into-poetic-psychedelic-rock-with-agouti-nodes/

Kansas - Icarus - Borne On Wings Of Steel

Icarus - Borne on Wings of Steel, written by guitarist Kerry Livgren, is a progressive rock gem inspired by the Greek myth of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun with wings of wax and feathers. In a 2015 interview with Classic Rock Revisited, Livgren shared that the song's soaring melodies and lyrics were meant to capture the exhilaration and danger of chasing dreams beyond limits, reflecting his own spiritual journey at the time. He noted, "Icarus was about reaching for something higher, but also the risk of pride—it’s a metaphor for my own searching." The track’s intricate guitar riffs, Robby Steinhardt’s distinctive violin, and Steve Walsh’s powerful vocals make it a standout, blending heartland rock with prog-rock complexity.
Digging into the song’s trivia, Kansas recorded Masque in a whirlwind of creativity, with Livgren revealing in a 2005 Goldmine magazine interview that "Icarus" was one of the first songs completed for the album, setting the tone for its ambitious sound. A fun tidbit from a 2018 Facebook post by the band recalls how Steinhardt’s violin parts were nearly lost during mixing due to a studio tape glitch, but a late-night rescue by the engineer saved the iconic string sections. Fans on the Kansas Band Fan Club Facebook group often share stories of hearing "Icarus" live in the ‘70s, with one user posting in 2020 about a 1976 concert where the band extended the song’s instrumental break, leaving the crowd in awe. On X, a recent fan post praised the song’s timeless energy, calling it "the ultimate freedom anthem for dreamers."
Kansas got their start in Topeka, Kansas, in the early 1970s, born from the merger of two local bands, White Clover and Saratoga. According to their official bio on kansasband.com, the lineup of Phil Ehart (drums), Dave Hope (bass), Kerry Livgren (guitar), Robby Steinhardt (violin), Steve Walsh (vocals), and Rich Williams (guitar) came together in 1973, blending rock, classical, and folk influences. Their big break came when producer Don Kirshner signed them to his label after a demo tape caught his ear, leading to their self-titled debut in 1974. The band’s unique sound, driven by Livgren’s songwriting and Steinhardt’s violin, set them apart in the rock scene, paving the way for hits like "Carry On Wayward Son" after Masque. Their relentless touring and DIY ethos, as Ehart recalled in a 2019 Instagram post, built a loyal fanbase that still thrives today.  From: https://thezoorocks.com/the-zoo-kzew-radio/kansas-icarus-borne-on-wings-of-steel

Big Richard - Millionaire

Can you tell us a little bit about the narrative of Big Richard and why you’re all in the same bed? What brought you here?

Bonnie Sims: We started a band because a festival needed more ladies on their lineup. They called old Eve Panning on the fiddle over there and said, “Hey, you probably know other women, right?” So she took a call, and she called us.

Joy Adams: We were just supposed to play one show, and I remember having a rehearsal and everyone peeing their pants from laughing so hard. We played our festival set and half of it got rained out. So we had all these songs we still needed to play and decided to book another show so we could play them. We also got some hate at that festival – some people were very offended by our name. We were also handing out penis paraphernalia, and we made these puff-paint T-shirts that had a dick with hairy balls playing banjo.

Hazel Royer: People got mad enough that we were like, “Oh, we have to do this again. This is so funny.”

BS: We were like, “Are we rage-baiting middle-aged boomers? Could this be any more fun?” I grew up as a bluegrass kid, and I always had an aversion to some elements of the culture socially, especially towards women. I felt very stifled by it with my personality, so I always said if I was going to be in a bluegrass band, I wanted to feel like I was power-sliding in on my knees with both middle fingers up. I feel like Big Richard does that very well energetically. We are doing that constantly on the scene, on stage, to audiences, to other musicians, to promoters – we try to bring an unexpected vibe.

What is unique about collaborating with an all-femme outfit?

JA: Well when I get my period, they all get their periods. We’ll be halfway through tour and someone will be like, “Okay, when is it coming?”

BS: And I like that you said outfit. It’s mostly about our outfits. We share clothes, we encourage dressing up, we share beds, we like to theme – the chemistry is deep!

JA: We theme all of our outfits. Like last night, we’re staying at a Best Western, so our theme was “Breast Western.”

Eve Panning: I actually showed up dressed just like the drummer in the opening band. But yeah, I guess we’ve all played in bands with men before, and all sorts of other lineups. I personally have loved all of those bands, loved making music with them, and learned a lot. But there is something really special about being in a group with all ladies. There’s just something that I feel like is kind of unspoken and understood.

BS: And I feel like the reception of us often still has some sort of stigma attached to it. Like at gas stations, at venues, people will be like, “Oh, girls, are you traveling alone?” “Ladies, are you sure you’re okay?” And I get to be like, “Yeah, we are! Yeah, that’s right.” I feel like being in this band has fortified my personal independence bone.

Has being politically forward also impacted your reception?

HR: Yeah, definitely. This band has been pretty politically forward since its inception, so we’ve also curated a fan base that understands what to expect. For the most part, people come to our shows because they know that. Last year we had a few shows where people left in anger, but it’s not common.

BS: Even just the name Big Richard is a pretty good litmus test for whether or not you’re able to take a joke. If you get the joke, and if you’re willing to laugh, that’s a really good precursor to deciding if you want to be a part of this party.

What context, interpersonally or globally, informed the particular creation of your album, Pet?

HR: We wanted to create an album. There was Live from Telluride [2022] before I joined the band and then we had Girl Dinner [2025], which was an album we made in the studio. For Girl Dinner, we were all separated sonically, isolated and in booths with headphones so that we could edit things and overdub stuff. I was very new to the band at that point. Our sound was very informed by coming together and creating this new thing.

But for this new album, Pet, we recorded every song live. We wanted to emulate the live sound that we have on stage with each other, because that’s where we feel most confident and powerful as a group. I think it is where we are the most successful musically. And we recorded all live to tape, so everything is analog, which has been awesome.

BS: Big Richard is definitely an energy. A large part of our alchemy together is the energy that the four of us create. And that requires being in the room together, having our voices actually, physically interacting and coming together into things. We wanted to tap into the stuff that feels real. And for us, we’re a live band. We perform shows all the time, and so we’re trying to bring that element into the studio.

What is your process of composing and arranging like?

EP: We’ve done some co-writes, which have been really fun, but a lot of the time someone will bring a song of their own with an idea of where they want it to end up, though our arrangements are also pretty collaborative. Each of us has a distinct flavor that they bring to the band.

What would you say is the most distinctive difference in your respective musicianships?

BS: Eve and Joy were classical kids growing up, and Hazel and I both had dads who played the banjo.

What is it like to bridge that gap?

BS: When Eve writes out her fiddle tunes, I take the music, I go home, and I write every note, and then I practice it. And Joy just somehow immediately has it down – so she bridges it really fast, and I have to build a bridge, piece by piece.

EP: And then when Bonnie or Joy or Hazel is singing a song, and they’re like, “Eve, can you sing the harmony part?” I have to be like, “Guys, how do I make it sound better? How do I sing good?” And then they try and help me out there.

JA: We use our skillsets to fill in the gaps for each other.

BS: And we don’t expect people to know what we know. That’s not a fair thing to put on other musicians. We all come from different backgrounds.

Lots of dynamic abundance! What did y’all each have on repeat while you were recording Pet?

JA: I was listening to Twain a lot. “The Fox (Yup Yup Yup)” or “The Sorcerer” from Twain.

HR: I was listening to Christian Lee Hutson a lot. “Tiger” is so good.

BS: Probably scream-singing Chappell Roan in my car on the way home.

EP: I had a bit of a phase with The Weepies this summer, because I hadn’t listened much, but then Hazel was putting them on in the van a lot.

HR: They’re so good, too.

Always a good bet. Now, if y’all were in an alternative universe where you were still connected as a group, but you weren’t a band or a musical group, what would you be?

JA: Probably a truck-driving outfit.

BS: Yeah, we’re Ray Bitcher, we’re a truck-driving outfit. Or– can we be the Golden Girls, too? I want to be old ladies with y’all. Oh, and a third thing. We are also a punk band called Hateful Hazel.

Incredible. Is there anything you feel like you’ve learned about yourselves or playing together throughout the process of putting out this album?

BS: This is a collaboration and a democratic process of a band. Putting together Pet, and Big Richard as a whole, is constantly an opportunity to compromise. It’s not about my singular creative vision for any song or any record. It’s about coming together and listening to each other and then having everybody’s input. It ends up being this amalgamation of everybody’s creative juju. Incorporating somebody else’s ideas is a great learning opportunity for any creative.

HR: We also learned that this live recording style works really well with this band. We’d always had a hunch that if we just got in a room together and set up a mic that it’d be the best way to capture our sound. Turns out it’s pretty true.

BS: We learned that we liked dressing up as clowns. Artistically fitting.

JA: Apocalypse clowns, specifically.

Oh yeah, the album art is impeccable. Beyond the clownage, what are y’all each proudest of on this album?

JA: I think we’re just proud that it finally sounds like us on stage. Girl Dinner was very clean, but the live recording on Pet really worked for us.

BS: I do love “Make the World Go Away” as the ending of the record. It’s always such a potent moment in live shows, because a lot of times we’ll go into the crowd and sing it acoustic. The music becomes so tangible – we’re literally standing a foot from somebody, you know, and their face is right by our face, and we’re singing and we’re looking at them. I feel like we can miss music in that realm with performing.
The stage amplifies what we’re doing, but it’s also a barrier. Which, at times, is great because it wouldn’t be successful on the ground in a crowd of 3,000 people, but in a club with 250 or 300 people, you can stand in the middle of it and ask everybody to be quiet while you sing an acoustic song. Those moments are so connected. And I feel like this is how music can reach out and touch everyone. It’s not just for performing and money and clapping and being on a stage. It’s about feeling as humans together. Music is a tool for that.

From: https://thebluegrasssituation.com/read/big-richard-takes-big-strides/ 

 

Hidden Masters - She Broke The Clock Of The Long Now

Hidden Masters is a Scottish three-piece that makes a much busier racket than you might expect for such a small lineup. The group’s jittery, restless, tempo-shifting, prog-influenced music owes as much to David Bowie as it does to Yes, but also incorporates plenty of 1960s jangle-rock influences, barbershop quartet harmonies, and even a dose of heavy music that isn’t quite “metal” but comes close. Their latest full-length, Of This and Other Worlds, is a swirling mass of guitar picking, adept harmonies, multi-part compositions, and abrupt shifts of gear, all held together with song titles like “See You in the Dark” and “She Broke the Clock of the Long Now”. It doesn’t always work, but often it does, and its successes are consistently surprising and rewarding.
Rewarding, that is, if you like this sort of thing. Fans of straight-ahead riff-rock or percussion-heavy dance music are likely to be bored beyond reason. The rest of us, though, can revel in the audacious verve of opening track “She Broke the Clock of the Long now”, which spices its jangly guitar-pop with ominous down-tempo prog interludes, or the even catchier follow-up “Into the Night Sky”, which not only throws around time signatures from one moment to the next but is also blessed with one of the catchiest choruses on the album. Abrupt tempo shifts, another band hallmark, manage to lend cohesion to the tune rather than fragment it. Some trick! And oh yes, there’s a nifty doom-guitar interlude, apparently included just for the hell of it, because why not?
Sometimes, when music like this jitters from one section to next, the listener gets the feeling that the band just doesn’t know what to do with a groove once they’ve landed in it. This rarely happens here; Hidden Masters gives the impression of having so many ideas, it’s all they can do to contain themselves for a time before bubbling into the next segue.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the six-minute opus “Last Days of the Sun”, which opens with heavily harmonized and reverbed vocals before jumping into a nugget of 1960s-era pop. By this time, though, the listener is savvy to the band’s tricks and waiting for the sidestep into something entirely unrelated. This duly happens around the 2:35 mark, when studio effects and a subtle tempo shift carry the listener into a bridge section built around guitar arpeggios and harmony vocals similar to the opening bars of the song. This is suddenly interrupted by a guitar thrash that sounds an awful lot like the opening of Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades” (hey, swipe from the best) before yet another shift delivers the listener into some other space entirely — more sweet vocals, bits of keyboards floating above a galloping tempo for the final minute or so. And… we’re done. Somehow, it all works.
Nor is that everything on the album, not by a long shot. The vocals on “Nobody Knows That We’re Here” suggest Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”, even as the twanging guitar carries a faintly Middle Eastern inflection — at least until the twinkly bridge section. Oh, and the lyrics are fun too. Batshit crazy, as one might expect, but fun.
Of This and Other Worlds is crammed with such unexpected sideways leaps, but the record is bewilderingly successful in spite of or because of them (you choose). It’s an astonishingly assured debut, one that’s built upon a solid foundation of musicianship. Listeners looking for a playful but tight deconstruction of the past 40 years of popular music: look no further.  From: https://www.popmatters.com/175893-hidden-masters-of-this-and-other-worlds-2495716760.html

Kandia - Scars

Kandia is an alternative metal band from Porto in Portugal with Quaternary being the fourth release to date. The band was formed in 2007 by vocalist Nya Cruz and guitarist André Da Cruz with the self released debut album Light , Inward Beauty/Outward Reflection, coming out in 2010 with the third album, All Is Gone, following in 2013. It’s been a while since then and a change of label to Frontiers seems to have given the musicians the motivation to get back in the studio for this new album which was written and recorded with Daniel Cardoso of Anathema.
I haven’t heard what has gone before but Quaternary shows an aggressive rock band high on emotion and full of ferocious riffs, searing lead breaks and powerhouse drums and bass and all with a take no prisoner’s attitude. They name influences ranging through Tool, A Perfect Circle, Metallica, Pantera, Pink Floyd and Porcupine Tree and there are a couple of uneasy bedfellows there too but I found it more to be Within Temptation meets A Perfect Circle combination and a very fine metal album it is too.
The vocals of Nya Cruz are the real stand out on the record as she has such a perfect, clear, controlled and driven voice and really is a singer to keep a close eye on as she has so much talent and ability. André Da Cruz is a fast and furious guitarist who loves to lay down huge industrial/nu-metal riffs that drill into your brain with the beauty of Nya Cruz helping to sweeten the mix but if you love guitar driven metal and swathes of riffs then you’ll be blown away by Kandia as this is a band and an album that ticks every box.
There is really so much happening here and you can pick up on everything due to the great job that has been done on production, mixing and mastering. André Da Cruz plays bass as well as lead guitar with synthesizers from Paulo Martins and Daniel Cardoso plays drums, additional synths, keyboards and guitar. Pedro Mendes plays the guitar solos Fight Or Flight and Until The End and you simply have to check out Murderers which features some stunning sax work from Jorgen Monkeby. The album impresses on the first couple of listens but improves exponentially with every additional play making this something of an essential release.  From: https://www.velvetthunder.co.uk/kandia-quaternary-frontiers-music/

 

Me and My Friends - Tell Me

Afrobeat. Folk. Jazz. Cello. Clarinet. Harmonies to melt your soul. Grooves to bounce your booty on.  Me and My Friends effortlessly weave these ingredients into a sonic concoction that is theirs alone, underpinned by the hauntingly elegant songs and sparkling highlife guitar of bandleader Nick Rasle.
Over the past 15 years Me and My Friends have carved out a niche all of their own, touring across Europe and gaining support from the likes of Gilles Peterson, Cerys Matthews, FiP, Soundway Records and Quantic. Their live shows are a joyful celebration of free-flowing spontaneity and togetherness - music that invites you in, lifts you up, and keeps you dancing.
Me and My Friends are a true family, each member shaping the sound with their own distinct voice. Fred Harper’s drumming is percussive and jazz-infused, while Emma Coleman’s soaring cello and intricate vocal harmonies add a richness and depth. Sam Murray’s clarinet is funky, playful and free-spirited, while James Grunwell anchors it all with his spacious, understated bass lines and producer’s ear.
New album ‘Bring Summer’ encapsulates the essence of the band’s vision in 2025: an explosion of joyful, sun-drenched grooves underpinned by deeply reflective songwriting. It's a celebration of authenticity, the inner child and the freedom to be yourself, and an invitation to dance as a raw, unfiltered expression of life.  From: https://www.meandmyfriends.co.uk/news

Bad Company - Good Lovin' Gone Bad

Lyrically speaking, it’s a long, long way from Leonard Cohen to Bad Company, but one of my readers recommended Straight Shooter and it just so happened that I needed a shot of sex-drenched rock ‘n’ roll to cure my soul right fucking now. Though I loved the experience of trying to decode those bits of Leonard’s literary genius, a lot of work was involved and I had to pull an all-nighter to publish the review on time. No such effort is required to understand the songs on Straight Shooter; in fact, I can sum up the meaning of all the songs in a jiffy!

#1: “Get the fuck out of here, you cheating bitch!”
#2 “Let’s fuck!”
#3 “I’m sorry I was a jerk and I promise to make it up to you.”
#4: “Rock ‘n’ Roll stardom is not for the faint of heart.”
#5: “Thanks for the fuck, honey, but I’m not the marrying kind.”
#6: “My balls are about to explode!”
#7: “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
#8: “Let’s do a soft crotch rock version of Bill Withers’ ‘Lean on Me’!”

That is not a knock on Bad Company. They simply weren’t designed to become the T.S. Eliots of rock ‘n’ roll, and neither I nor their fans would have wanted them to go there. Bad Company is classified as a rock, hard rock, or (according to Rolling Stone) “crotch rock” band. Beyond the genre/sub-genre game, the band meets all of the qualifications described in the article “Going Against the Grain: The True Meaning of Rock ‘n’ Roll” provided by an unnamed blogger on Innovative Entertainment.
Rock ‘n’ roll is a form of music that is primal, passionate, and rebellious. It expresses the emotions of angst, anger, and lust in some of the only ways that are accepted by society. The history of this edgy music genre dates back to the 1950s. It was formed by a combination of the blues, gospel music, and country. Throughout the decades, rock ‘n’ roll has evolved and become famous for being the genre that’s continued to push the boundaries of music, and, sometimes, the cultural boundaries of society itself.
Rock ‘n’ roll pushed the cultural boundaries of society because it was primal, passionate and rebellious, and expressing lust was a large part of the rebelliousness. As Sam Kemp noted in Far Out Magazine, “In the 1950s, the dance floor became one of the few places where sexual desire could be expressed freely. This shouldn’t come as much of a surprise; ‘rock ‘n’ roll’ was originally a slang term for sex, after all.” Many of the lyrics in the 50s and early 60s rock songs consisted of euphemisms and vocalizations that hinted at sexuality, but as the years passed and the sexual revolution progressed, more explicit depictions of sexual desire became commonplace. Bad Company staked a claim as one of the leaders of that movement with songs like “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love” and “Ready for Love” on their debut album.
I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to hear from a sex partner is a poetry recital. I want to hear moans, grunts, screams of delight and naughty talk—the sounds you hear when Paul Rodgers gets it up. I would therefore argue that Bad Company’s lyrics are just as effective as Leonard Cohen’s, but in a different way. Context is everything. 
The band’s follow-up album continues their exploration of eroticism while expanding their approach to include greater dynamic variation, the frequent use of vocal harmonies and more diverse instrumentation. Recorded a mere three months after the release of their massively successful maiden album, the band sounds tighter and more confident. Though I would have been happy with an album that featured nothing but sex songs, Paul Rodgers chose to veer from that path to create a song for the ages and Simon Kirke adds a touch of sweetness to the mix with his two compositions. With cigarettes by my side in case of a music-induced orgasm, I am ready to rock the fuck out!

“Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” (Ralphs): This is one of approximately one billion songs that have been written about cheating lovers. “Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” falls somewhere in between “Runaround Sue” (where the victim still longs for the bitch) and “Cathy’s Clown” (where to be taken for a fool is considered the ultimate in emasculation).
More to the point, it’s a great opening song that wastes no time confirming Bad Company’s rock ‘n’ roll credentials. The hips start to grind immediately after Simon Kirke’s thumping introduction when Mick Ralphs steps up to the plate to deliver the central riff loaded with blessed distortion. When Boz Burrell joins the party to give the syncopated transition passage a suitably strong bottom, the hips shift to thrust mode and I’m “ready for love!” The core of the song is loaded with power chords in the key of A major, a solid choice by Ralphs that allows Rodgers to sing at the top of his range, where his voice can convey the shock and angst of a guy whose woman has betrayed him.

From: https://altrockchick.com/2025/11/02/bad-company-straight-shooter-classic-music-review/

 

Rotary Connection - I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun

Rotary Connection – I Am The Black Gold Of The Sun: How to move from bluesy road tunes to this elaborate jazz-soul number at the peak of the psychedelic movement? Partly because this band also backed Howlin' Wolf and Muddy Waters  – on the albums Electric Mud (1968) and The Howlin' Wolf Album (1969). Marshall Chess, son of Chess Records founder Leonard Chess formed the band alongside Charles Stepney, and it included Minnie Riperton on vocals, releasing their debut in 1967. Their style underwent changes, and this climactic track, one often recognised but from a highly underrated band, is from their final album Hey, Love (when they were slightly renamed as The New Rotary Connection) in 1971, with a transformed sound and lineup, and an extraordinary piece of composition and orchestration produced and featuring Stepney on several instruments, alongside Riperton's spectacular high-voiced parts before she later became a solo star. 
The fusion of, first Spanish guitar, then jazz piano, rock guitar and choir touch on a variety of influences, and in some ways the song heavily echoes and is a reworking of the more obscure jazz instrumental Black Gold by Phil Upchurch (1969), which is also included below. Guitarist Upchurch, who also played with Cannonball Adderley, also features here, as well as stunning lead vocals by Dave Scott. What is it all about? Part of the hippie-era back-to-the-land eco movement? Reaching back to African roots? Either way, hopefully it will help usher in spring's warmer weather.   From: https://www.song-bar.com/song-of-the-day/rotary-connection-i-am-the-black-gold-of-the-sun

Rotary Connection were a psychedelic soul group put together by Marshall Chess, the son of Chess Records founder Leonard Chess, later president of Rolling Stones Records, in 1966. At the time, Chess wanted to get away from the straight up rhythm and blues the label was known for and tap into the new psychedelic sound, so he enlisted the aid of Chess staff arranger Charles Stepney (a musical genius who would later work extensively with Earth, Wind & Fire) for help.
Together, Stepney and Chess hired members of a white rock band called the Proper Strangers—Bobby Simms, Mitch Aliotta, and Ken Venegas—and added a few more members, including, notably, the 20-year-old receptionist at Chess Records, a gorgeous five octave soprano named Minnie Riperton. Soul legend Sidney Barnes was also a Rotary Connection member as was vocalist Judy Hauff.
‘Turn Me On’, a single from Rotary Connection’s self-titled 1967 debut album led the way. This chamber-pop masterpiece was recorded with members of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and features a sitar, but the real revelation is Riperton’s voice, which is used here as a background “instrument” almost like the way the Beach Boys used the theremin in ‘Good Vibrations’.
Make no mistake, that single is completely sublime. Once you dive into their music, you can’t help but wonder why Rotary Connection aren’t considered to be one of the all-time great late 1960s groups. Their albums are admittedly a little bit spotty, but at their best they could hold their own against, say, The 5th Dimension, and that’s really saying something, if you ask me. Their exotic blend of psych-soul chamber pop was truly original, the musicianship top-notch and the vocals out of this world.
Rotary Connection went on to record six albums, including a long-player of Christmas songs, but never really broke out nationally. The blame for this might be said to fall squarely on their management’s shoulders—it couldn’t have been the music—who did stuff like book the group for a better-paying gig in Toronto and turning down a slot for them at Woodstock.  
Part of the problem with Rotary Connection, if you can even call it a problem, is that they didn’t fit neatly into anyone’s box. Too weird for Motown, too lush for the freaks, and too out-there for the longhairs in the suburbs who were busy tripping over The Doors.
They were the misfit kids at the party, doing something ten times more interesting while everyone else was still fumbling with the punch bowl. And that’s why people like Jay-Z and A Tribe Called Quest circle back decades later – because buried in those grooves is something alive, something that never got watered down. Stepney’s arrangements? Like Sun Ra gone uptown. Riperton? She could make dogs three blocks away tilt their heads. If you play this stuff loud, it doesn’t sound retro, it sounds alien.
History didn’t crown Rotary Connection, but who cares? Not everything worth remembering has to end up in the Rock & Roll Hall of Whatever. Some bands exist to be discovered in dusty bins, their covers cracked and their vinyl still buzzing with electricity. That’s Rotary Connection. They were too good for the middle of the road, so they carved out their own crooked little path, and that’s exactly why they endure.  From: https://dangerousminds.net/music/rotary-connection-psychedelic-turned-down-woodstock/ 

Birdloom - The Bloody Gardener

Sharron Kraus is one of the most consistently engaging and creative artists in the current psych folk milieu, be it with her lushly orchestrated solo albums such as 2018’s ‘Joy’s Reflection is Sorrow’ and the earlier, baroque ’Friends and Enemies; Lovers and Strangers’, or with her recent work with author Justin Hopper, such as the eerie ‘Chanctonbury Rings’ (also with Belbury Poly) or the immersive and descriptive ‘Swift Wings’. As a part of Rusalnaia alongside Ex Reverie’s Gillian Chadwick, or as Tau Emerald with Fursaxa’s Tara Burke, Kraus has explored both electric and avant-folk territory respectively, and her work with The Iditarod and Espers’ Helena Espvall and Meg Baird is both incomparable and essential. This new release, under the name ‘Birdloom’, is in fact an older recording from the early 2000s, and a collaboration with the late David Muddyman (of Loop Guru) that Kraus undertook shortly after her debut album. Now, after Muddyman’s passing, these songs have been compiled and are available for the first time to hear. Sharing a love of Shirley Collins, Martin Carthy and traditional ballads, the two began recording via the sending and exchanging of CD-Rs, Muddyman’s electronic approach heightening and pulling the texts and songs in new, unexpected and fascinating directions. For example, their working of the folk standard ‘Polly on the Shore’ is perfectly described in correspondence by Muddyman as sounding akin to ‘Swordfishtrombones’-era Tom Waits, whilst the vaulted ‘Sir Patrick Spens’ is ‘like a folk band given to Jamaican Dubmaster who made a record and then played it underwater’. These comparisons capture a sense of the heady experimentalism and forward thinking that is embedded within these tracks, long before folktronica or the merging of organic folk tradition with synthetic elements became more commonplace. And, accordingly, it is an album that enchants, challenges and captivates, with each song still sounding startling and fresh twenty years on.  From: https://moofmag.com/2023/06/26/album-review-sharron-kraus-birdloom/ 

Spooky Tooth - Love Really Changed Me / Sunshine Help Me / Forget It, I Got It

With roots originating all the way back to 1963, the four members that would form Spooky Tooth played together in the British blues mod band The V.I.P.'s in Carlisle, England which most notably is the early act that also launched a fledgling Keith Emerson before he went on to form The Nice and later ELP. The four members of Luther Grosvenor (lead guitar), Mike Harrison (harpsichord, vocals), Greg Ridley (bass) and Mike Kellie (drums) released several EPs and singles as The V.I.P.'s but never really decorated the charts with hits and when the mod and beat scenes started to morph into the world of psychedelic rock, the four members wisely shifted gears and released a flower power freak out album as the band Art in 1967 but after one album the band moved on again and became Spooky Tooth the same year.
After recruiting a fifth member in the form of American keyboardist Gary Wright, the band set out on the English club scene and after quickly capturing the attention of Island records commenced to record Spooky Tooth's debut album It's All About which arrived in May of 1968. Taking a cue from fellow Brits, Traffic, Spooky Tooth crafted a psychedelia-tinged slab of catchy pop rockers with Baroque piano influences, bluesy guitar riffing and a major leap up from the amateurish sounds of Art. The most notable improvement was the psychedelic soul smoothness of lead singer Mike Harrison who found his match in his harmonic double newbie Gary Wright. The two would alternate vocals and eventual Wright would wrest control.
A veritable treasure trove of catchy psychedelic pop records It's All About featured seven original compositions and three covers including the Janis Ian track "Society's Child," Bob Dylan's "Too Much of Nothing" and the classic J.D. Loudermilk song "Tobacco Road." The album was graced with the production techniques of Jimmy Miller who worked with The Spencer Davis group and would become the legendary force behind The Rolling Stones, Motorhead and Blind Faith. Sounding virtually nothing like the band Art which featured four of the members in Spooky Tooth, the songwriting skills of Gary Wright became a prominent aspect of the band's ability to distinguish itself from many of the other British blues based psych bands of the era however the Traffic similarities from the 1967 "Mr. Fantasy" album are undeniable.  From: https://www.progarchives.com/album.asp?id=27640  

 

The Bangles - If She Knew What She Wants

A sad, sweet, almost philosophical portrayal of heartache, with a poignant question at its centre: what do you do when the thing that makes her most alluring is the thing that makes her impossible to please? He’s crazy for this mercurial girl, and he can’t do a thing to make her happy.
The first thing anybody noticed about the Bangles, when they rose to prominence and started getting heavy rotation on MTV, was that they were all pretty, but their lead singer was beyond good-looking. She was gorgeous. That, and the general consensus that the group was just a riff on the formula perfected by the Go-Gos, tended to obscure that the Bangles were the real deal. The beautiful singer could really sing, in a clear, supple, unwavering voice utterly free of vibrato, while the band was tight, and much more than just a backup group for the main attraction – and they could sing too. Moreover they had a fine ear for material. Whether it was the silly but insanely catchy Walk Like an Egyptian (Billboard’s number one song of 1987), or the much more substantial pop masterpiece Manic Monday, penned for them by Prince, their music was always full of lilting melody and hardly ever less than eminently listenable. They covered the tuneful yet rocking Goin’ Down to Liverpool, a superb bit of Brit-pop originally performed by Katrina and the Waves, Paul Simon’s Hazy Shade of Winter, and this, If She Knew What She Wants, maybe the best of them all.
Written by Jules Shears in 1985, it might seem an odd choice, being essentially a pained complaint about a woman voiced from a man’s perspective, except it’s such a humane and loving complaint, neither angry nor dismissive. The girl is complicated, that’s all, she’s difficult, but for all of that fascinating too, though maybe a little bit self-absorbed – the narrator explains that she has so many thoughts rolling around in her head that she sure doesn’t need any from him – and oh, how he’d love to give her what she needs, if only she had any idea what that was
It’s a beautiful bit of pop tune-smithing, and by making it their own, the Bangles create such an atmosphere of sympathetic female energy that one can imagine the singer wishes the guy would just give up, and give her a look instead. Look at this good guy having a hard time; there’s real warmth to it.  From: https://theneedlefish.com/2019/08/27/song-of-the-day-the-bangles-if-she-knew-what-she-wants/ 

 

Cult of Scarecrow - Phantom Pain

The Belgian band Cult Of Scarecrow was formed in 2017. Although the band was new, the members certainly weren't; three of the six members previously played in the thrash band Dead Serious. With Cult Of Scarecrow, they initially opted for doom metal, as can be heard on their first EP 'Cult Of Scarecrow', which, with four tracks, lasts just over half an hour.
Their debut album 'Tales Of The Sacroscant Man' featured shorter songs and a shift towards heavy metal with strong rock influences. This change in style is further explored on their new album 'In Nomine Filiorum'. This album contains eight tracks that, despite the heavy themes, are very accessible.
The title alone, 'In Nomine Filiorum', evokes a grim impression and is Latin for the opening track 'In Name Of The Children', which is about child abuse in the Catholic Church. It begins with an eerie choral chant that immediately evokes a threatening feeling, reinforced by the first guitar riffs. This seven-minute track is never boring and immediately captivates the listener.
The next track, 'Phantom Pain', has a faster tempo and multiple layers, demonstrating thoughtful and hard work. The chorus of 'Lord of La Mancha', in which Don Quixote finally receives recognition, is instantly memorable. The attention to detail is audible in the intros, ranging from footsteps and wolf howling to a scratching vinyl record and a drum solo.  Translated from: https://arrowlordsofmetal.nl/cult-of-scarecrow-in-nomine-filiorum/ 

 

10,000 Maniacs - Gold Rush Brides / How You've Grown / Candy Everybody Wants

This song is about how the media - specifically television - panders to our base instincts by supplying a constant stream of sex and violence:

If lust and hate is the candy
If blood and love tastes so sweet
Then we give 'em what they want

The "candy" is the images that keep us watching - it's not good for us, but hard to resist. The lyric was written by lead singer Natalie Merchant, and it's particularly incisive:

So their eyes are growing hazy
'Cause they want to turn it on
So their minds are soft and lazy
Well, hey, give 'em what they want

The music was written by 10,000 Maniacs keyboard player Dennis Drew. The group would often come up with chipper tunes to go with Merchant's cogent lyrics, wrapping her message in a sweet (like candy?) melody.
Merchant was particularly amused when this song started climbing the charts, as it is a song about media manipulation with a message that clearly wasn't getting through to many listeners. "The song is complete satire," she told Rolling Stone. "They're not typical pop lyrics, and it's very subversive."
When 10,000 Maniacs recorded the Our Time in Eden album, they knew Merchant was leaving the band. Not wanting to leave them in the lurch, she stayed on for a year, keeping the news quiet so there wouldn't be any sort of farewell tour or formal sendoff.
In our interview with their bass player Steven Gustafson, he said: "We all knew Natalie was leaving during the recording of Our Time In Eden, and in some respects, it made for quite an enjoyable experience for all of us. It was freeing in a good way. Producer Paul Fox had a lot to do with that as well.
I think this song was about the state of pop culture and how we were becoming part of it.?We made quite a climb from being thrown out of our first gig to playing Madison Square Garden, our final performance with her as our lead singer."
Natalie Merchant steadfastly refused to market her sexuality, despite pleas from the band's record company for her to wear more form-fitting outfits. She refused to give them what they want.

From: https://www.songfacts.com/facts/10000-maniacs/candy-everybody-wants 

 

Army of Anyone - Disappear

Army Of Anyone, the supergroup made up of Dean DeLeo (guitar) and Robert DeLeo (bass, backing vocals) from Stone Temple Pilots, Richard Patrick (lead vocals) from Filter and Ray Luzier (drums) from the David Lee Roth band released a Hard Rock winner, back on November 14, 2006. In my Metal opinion, I wish this band would have stayed together to release many, many, more albums. I purchased the debut CD, self titled “Army Of Anyone”, the first week of it’s release… I have frequently reminded myself that I constantly listen to this band, buy why? Oh, how a Hard Rock album will sound when skillful musicians are at the top of their game, creating a bounty of melodies, mixed together with creatively inspired chords and lead vocals, all fastened together with a rhythm section so tight that the grooves it manifests serves to magnify the progressive musical energy around it. In essence, I really enjoy listening to the Hard Rock music from Army Of Anyone.
I own a Sony 5 CD disc changer, (my wife bought it for me way back in 1990), it has become a permanent component for my stereo system going on twenty years now. It plays fantastic to this very day, (knock on Metal), with extensive and constant usage. This Army Of Anyone CD has been almost permanently inside this Sony disc changer going on three years straight. I say almost, for whenever I take this Army Of Anyone CD out of the disc changer, it usually is not for more than a few days… I have reached the point where it does not feel right unless this CD is in place, ready to be played at a moments notice. Army Of Anyone is that good… no, instead, Army Of Anyone is that great. This band is Hard Rock, yes, only they have put to use their Progressive Hard Rock, musical tentacles… reaching out far beyond what current Hard Rock mainstream bands are currently striving for, musically.
I embrace the music of Army Of Anyone far more greater than the music of Stone Temple Pilots or Filter. (You can throw in the David Lee Roth Band too, that is a no brainer). This is only one album from Army Of Anyone and here I am, staking an extremely higher allegiance to them, than compared to STP or Filter. Honestly, there is no comparison, other than the fact of Dean and Robert DeLeo being members of STP, (the real reason why STP is a musically recognized and popular band in the first place). Plus, throw in the fact that STP regrouped and embarked on touring the past year and Richard Patrick has Filter firing on all cylinders, well, Army Of Anyone has become a musically elite supergroup in limbo. The glory, fame, popularity and record sales of the STP past, seem to far outweigh the Progressive Hard Rock brilliance that illuminates from Army Of Anyone. It is a shame. This is a perfect example of how credible and incredible Hard Rock music can get swept under the popularity carpet, due to decisions made that are beyond the fans control. Musicians and astute fans of any music genre know this: great music cannot be judged on record sales, mainstream radio popularity or tickets sold. Nope. Army Of Anyone just needed a massive marketing machine behind them, as well as no STP reunion, then, just maybe, this band could have skyrocketed into the popularity mix. 
Not to ignore the songs from the debut “Army Of Anyone” album, to summarize the lyrics: intelligent, socially conscious, awareness to world politics without becoming abrasive, add into the mix the human experience. Musically, as mentioned earlier, Hard Rock with a progressive edge, yet not as an afterthought. My favorite song on this album: “This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen” – this is hands down, one of the single greatest endings to a Hard Rock album that I have ever heard. It is a mellow tune, yes, a ballad – no. The acoustic arrangement of this song swelters with emotion that I never expected upon my very first listen. Unbelievable, pure music.
I just hope, that Army Of Anyone would consider getting back together, every few years or so and create a new album. They do not have to do a major world tour for recognition and I understand if STP and Filter are of higher importance. What Dean DeLeo, Robert DeLeo and Richard Patrick must understand is that Army Of Anyone is much more enormous than they may realize, a true and real Hard Rock music creation. It is just like the quote from the fantasy baseball movie “Field Of Dreams” – “build it and they will come”… well, the members of Army Of Anyone have built it, if they could only continue, more fans would come. Probably more than they could ever imagine.  From: https://metalodyssey.net/2009/06/29/army-of-anyone-a-hard-rock-band-this-credible-has-to-make-a-return/

Rainbow - Live In Munich 1977

 Rainbow - Live In Munich 1977 - Part 1

 

 Rainbow - Live In Munich 1977 - Part 2

 

 Rainbow - Live In Munich 1977 - Part 3

 

If you have any doubt who the greatest singer in the history of metal, heck, maybe in the history of rock ‘n’ roll is, just pop this DVD into your player and fast forward to the second song. When Ronnie James Dio belts out the vocal of Deep Purple’s “Mistreated,” an in-his-prime Robert Plant bows to the mastery and original singer David Coverdale quickly ducks back behind the curtain. There’s so much power in the performance that song alone would be worth the price of this movie, but then you get seven more.
Don’t think that just because there are only eight tracks you’re getting cheated either. There’s a lot of free form jamming and improvisation. They pull 12 minutes out of “Mistreated,” nearly 20 out of “Catch the Rainbow,” around 16 each out of “Man on the Silver Mountain” and “Do You Close Your Eyes?” and a whopping 27 minutes from “Still I’m Sad.” The last one also includes extended drum and keyboard solos.
After an intro that plays on “The Wizard of Oz” and Dorothy’s “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” things quickly move to the Wicked Witch of the West’s territory with a blazing version of “Kill the King,” which at under seven minutes is the shortest performance here, but it packs a heck of a wallop. For the next nearly two hours, the audience is alternately pummeled and lulled with numbers that range from a winding journey of a version of “Sixteenth Century Greensleeves” to a stomping rendition of “Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll” to an extended jam on “Man on the Silver Mountain” that also includes a snippet of “Starstruck” and the “Night People” improv by Dio.
Since it’s a song that’s so ingrained in hard rock, I find it interesting that this was one of the first times the band had played “Long Live Rock ‘n’ Roll,” as the album had not been released. I tried to imagine what it might have been like to hear that tune for the first time, as many in the audience surely were. You certainly couldn’t tell it was an unfamiliar tune from their reaction.
The performance here makes an undeniably strong argument for Rainbow as one of the greatest hard rock bands of the 1970s. Dio has never sounded better. Ritchie Blackmore hadn’t thought about switching exclusively to medieval balladry yet and was instead whipping out scorching solos that ranged from blues rock to rapid-fire neoclassical runs to smooth, crisp slow leads. Cozy Powell pounds the drums with a vengeance, and Bob Daisley, who would later be responsible for writing some of Ozzy Osbourne’s best songs in the 1980s, keeps time. It’s a powerhouse core group of musicians.
That led to a bit of tension in the performance as well, and it was easy to see why this lineup was so sadly short-lived. There are clearly two main attractions sharing the stage, and at times they compete with each other, though in a good way.
On “Mistreated,” for example, you’d think that Blackmore’s blues rock licks would be the star, but once Dio steps up to the mic and that monster voice comes roaring out, you kind of forget about that guy playing the Strat, despite his big licks and showy moves. Likewise on “Man on the Silver Mountain,” Blackmore sets a frenetic pace that seems almost double-time the studio version and leaves Dio galloping along to keep up instead of drawing out those big notes. In both cases, though, the performances remain flawless.
Live in Munich showcases an amazing band at the absolute height of its powers. It was an outfit that, sadly, would only last another two years. Dio would move on to make a couple of amazing records with Black Sabbath before embarking on his successful solo career. Blackmore would carry on with a string of new band members and a much more commercial direction that lacked the power of the three records with Dio. But for this shining moment in Munich, Rainbow was easily one of the best ever.  From: https://somethingelsereviews.com/2013/05/08/rainbow-live-in-munich-1977-2013/

 

 

 

Winterpills - Celia Johnson

From slurry, fuzzy guitar to strings, Winterpills signature melodies see their most expansive sounds to date on Love Songs. Reminiscent of the best of the Elephant 6’s works, ‘Love Songs came together in collaboration with co-producer Justin Pizzoferrato, who has manned the dials for Dinosaur Jr., The Pixies, Lou Barlow, Speedy Ortiz, Parquet Courts, Lou Barlow, and And the Kids. From strings to trumpets; large-scale harmonies to harmonica, Winterpills has never sounded this big before, masterfully building from a whisper to a torrent.
Winterpills explores love of the idea of love, love of unrealized love, love of the dead, love of family secrets, love of the concept of eternal return, love of ideas, and love of celebrity. "At first the thought of calling it Love Songs was intended as a whimsical nod to the other million albums of the same title," principle songwriter Philip Price says, "but then casting that light on the existing songs made them jump into stark relief: they were all love songs after all, though arriving at that place through strange portals and unused back roads." “A New England Deluge” builds to a feverish pitch before abruptly stopping. “Wanderer White” kicks off as a low-fi dirge before moving into ‘90s indie rock territory. “Celia Johnson” is inspired by David Lean’s “Brief Encounter,” positing a middle class British housewife’s story of stepping out of her comfort zone. “He Grew a Wall” identifies with a local musician following his suicide, using a modded Casiotone as an orchestra.
Recorded during the band’s 10th anniversary, ‘Love Songs’ is also an appropriate title for a band led by musical soulmates and husband/wife Philip Price and Flora Reed. Based in and inspired by western Massachusetts’ fertile scene, Reed and Price’s voices are always the core of Winterpills’ music and provide incredible chemistry and lift in tandem. Over the past decade and half-dozen stellar albums, Winterpills has established a reputation for smart indie pop, prompting comparisons to Elliott Smith, Low, and Big Star.  From: https://www.signaturesounds.com/winterpills 

Violent Femmes - Gone Daddy Gone

The Violent Femmes didn’t make many videos. They had little 1980s MTV presence. I saw the video for Gone Daddy Gone just a few times, and it haunted my memory for decades. I mostly remembered an awful, depressing family dinner scene filmed in black and white, and that the song had a marimba, but I couldn’t remember anything else about it or even whom the band was. Whenever a video came on MTV with a marimba (such as Psychedelic Furs’ Love My Way), I would think “maybe this is that depressing dinner-scene video” but it never was. Then finally I saw it on VH1 Classic 20 years later and was astounded at how funny it was. It is dark, bleak, and depressing, but also completely hysterical. I couldn’t stop laughing for days.
It has no overt queer elements (aside from the band name “Violent Femmes” and their “alternative” categorization) but it subverts 1980s “family values” political discourse in a way that would instantly appeal to many gay people. Gone Daddy Gone is brilliant, biting satire of the idealization of the American middle class family that was at the heart of 1980s culture. Instead of the perfect families on television like the Huxtables and Keatons (channeling 1950s family sitcoms), in this video we see Daddy getting drunk at a bar and flirting (unsuccessfully) with a trashy dancer while back home, his depressed wife and two kids eat a horrible looking dinner in morose silence. Amazingly, the video squeezes humor out of this scenario.
The video opens with a dinner plate, shot from above in black and white, establishing the video’s dreary tone. The film texture is grainy and scratchy, like it’s been deliberately damaged. Amidst flickering light we see a heaping plate of beans and gravy, slices of white bread, and a cheap plastic drinking glass with flowers on it. The glaring light washes the food of any visual appeal. The tablecloth is messy with crumbs and other debris. It’s Lynchian in its overstated despair, like something out of Eraserhead or the Elephant Man. No doubt those films (released just a few years before this video) served as a visual reference point for this video’s depiction of the middle class American family dinner as a surreal nightmare.
Once the song kicks in, the video focuses on the band for the first two verses and first chorus. The band scenes’ black and white photography (not damaged and grainy like the dinner shots) evoke Every Breath You Take in its careful portraiture and framing. Shots of the marimba intercut with facial close-ups of the lead singer staring intensely into the camera as he lip synchs the song. The editing is slow and leisurely compared to most videos, but will accelerate in later verses. The band’s clothing and hair styles are understated; they look more like “regular people” than rock stars. They play with energy, bounce, and a hint of menace. The Violent Femmes were unique in the way they combined punk energy with acoustic spareness.
During the second chorus, the video returns to the dinner scene. An adolescent girl squishes her fork into the gross-looking food on her plate that is undoubtedly getting colder by the minute. The video intercuts between the singer and dinner scene: he is filmed in pristine black and white, which draws attention to the damaged film stock of the dinner scene. The idea of the filmmakers deliberately damaging the film to create this neglected, abused quality only makes the whole concept more funny. As the singer cries out “gone daddy gone, the love is gone” over and over, the camera zooms slowly towards the mother sitting at the head of the table, the world’s weight crushing her spirit as she glumly sips coffee and smokes a cigarette, not eating. Her mouth is forlorn and crooked. The male child looks at her blankly, then we see the girl picking at her food again. No one talks, no one eats, they just pick at their food silently and miserably.
The camera crawls spiderlike across the table, highlighting the messy crumbs, mismatched silverware, and cheap plastic glasses. The camera lingers on a Wonder Bread package just before showing an empty chair with the full plate of food in front of it. It’s Daddy’s chair, but like the song says, Daddy’s gone, gone away. As we stare at his empty chair, we are immersed into the scene’s claustrophobic despair.
Where’s Daddy? He’s at a sleazy bar a few blocks away called “Sammy’s Fireside, Lunch Dinner and Cocktails.” It’s not a place where respectable people spend time, certainly not family men with responsibilities. Daddy sits by himself at a small round table, playing with the ring on his finger. The table is littered with empty beer bottles and other glasses. Clearly he’s been there awhile, getting drunk in the daytime, neglecting his family and job. He looks like a decent, respectable white-collar man worker (I think it’s the band’s drummer). Nearby him sit a table of “sophisticated” people consisting of a handsome young man (the singer) wearing a ridiculous Hefneresque smoking jacket with two bunny-like women at each side. They watch a performance of some kind, smiling in amusement.
Then we see what they are watching: a young, thin woman in aggressively striped clothing performing a flailing, ridiculous burlesque tease, madly shaking her shoulders and hips while pursing and cooing her lips like a complete tramp. A strobe light effect makes her dance seem overstated and ritualistic, perfectly complementing the scene’s tacky sleaziness. Daddy stares intently at her, sweating and fidgeting. The video intercuts between Daddy and the dancer, zooming slowly towards their faces as they each stare directly at the camera (us, each other). Daddy wets his lips excitedly—finally, some real excitement in his life, some real action, he seems to think. He grins eagerly, but also sheepishly. Her stare is blank and robotic.
The editing accelerates. Things get wilder. The bass player, dressed like a sailor on shore leave, dances provocatively with the woman, almost like he’s dry humping her. Daddy looks like he’s about to pass out as he grimaces with lust and creeping nausea. She stares back at him with the same dead stare. These recurring slow zooms, each lasting about four beats, add to the comical absurdity by bringing us further and further into this pathetic scene. The two women kiss their sugar daddy on the cheek while the sailor sharply turns his neck revealing lip stick. Daddy slowly lowers his head onto the table.
The song’s conclusion brings us back to the sad dinner at home. We see a tight close up of the haggard mother biting her thumb, cigarette in hand, staring off into space, her eyes dark and barely open. More shots of uneaten food. The final shots show the mother aggressively scraping the food off the plate into a garbage can, scowling miserably, while daddy lies passed out surrounded by empty bottles. The video ends with a shot of the band.
It’s a short, tight video that highlights the band’s performance style while offering one possible visual interpretation of the lyrics. It’s less a story than a moment in time. There are characters and a bare plot, but it’s more like a snapshot of a family falling apart than a narrative. The video’s humor is hard to explain given the dreary visuals and subject material. Part of it’s the editing and sense of exaggeration, but the historical context is the key element. The video’s humor derives from how drastically this depiction of family life contrasted with the standard Reagan era pop culture depictions of family life circulating when this video was made, whether it be the Cosby Show or Family Ties or the Morning in America commercial. On those shows, families are affluent, mutually supportive; nothing bad happened that couldn’t be solved in 30 minutes. Reagan’s political rhetoric upheld the era’s conservative vision of families as the fundamental bedrock of society, emboldening anti-gay and anti-feminist rhetoric. The 1970s had been all about divorce and single mothers, and now it was time to return to “normal” (and embrace the very idea of “normality”). Gone Daddy Gone is a middle finger to the era’s emphasis on “family values”. The idealized 50s/80s vision of family is replaced by a grim vision of family life as broken, corrupt, and failed. It’s so overstated—and so true—that it’s funny. Families are fucked up, the video says. Here’s what a real family look like, Mr. Reagan. Drunk, passed out Daddy and depressing dinners with Wonder Bread and empty chairs. Here are your 1980s family values. Go fuck yourself.
The video’s black and white photography only heightens the connections between the 1980s vision of family values and all those old black and white shows from the 1950s. The video is not meant to look specifically like the 1950s, though it could be, just as easily as it could be the 1980s. The Wonder Bread, the bar’s neon sign all point to the 1950s, though the video avoids any obvious, clichéd 1950s references (like leather jackets or ducktail haircuts). The dinner scene’s scratchiness almost makes it look like 1950s home movie footage. The song’s use of the word “Daddy” also echoes stereotyped 1950s beatnik slang. Here’s the genius of the video, showing the seedy underbelly of family life in the 1950s and 1980s simultaneously. In both eras, the family values rhetoric is bullshit.
This video was about as authentically punk as MTV was capable of being in the 1980s. The video masterfully blends a sneering defiant punk attitude with a slick and sophisticated visual references. It’s either the funniest or most depressing video ever, depending on your mood and perspective.  From: https://videoclosetblog.wordpress.com/violent-femmes-gone-daddy-gone/