Posts Tagged ‘Hollywood Nights’

I’ve been enjoying a slow-mo Fringe binge over the past few weeks, indulging the sensory perceptions with one or two episodes most afternoons. For those who’ve never experienced the inventive sci-fi thriller, which first aired on Fox from 2008 to 2013, it integrated such things as spacetime, parallel universes and odd phenomena into its storylines. In the largest sense, a small FBI unit is tasked with investigating so-called “fringe” events, but as Season 1 progresses the puzzle begins to reveal a very complex picture.

I discovered it during the summer of 2010, not long after Season 2 had concluded. Back then, OnDemand and online resources weren’t what they are now, but I managed to work my way through the first 43 episodes before Season 3 premiered. Nowadays, however, the entire series can be found on IMDb TV – with commercials, unfortunately. (While it’s a standalone streaming service, IMDb TV is also available via Amazon.)

Of course, one reason I have time to indulge in my Fringe binge is that my evening “commute” consists of about 10 steps from here, my desk in the den, to the living room. Diane and I have played it extremely safe since the pandemic began, venturing out only to get the mail, to visit a doctor or dentist, to pick up groceries via curbside pickup, or – now that fall’s upon us – a walk around the neighborhood. Occasionally, a friend of Diane’s will stop by, but masks and social distancing are mandatory. On a nice day, they sit on our balcony; on a lousy day, they sit inside, but with the windows open.

I miss going into the office, of interacting with colleagues face to face as opposed to via Zoom. I even miss the ride to and fro’ work, believe it or not, and listening to music via my car’s speakers. Certain songs are just meant to be played while on the road.

I also miss our weekend excursions to B&N, restaurants and, heaven knows, concerts. On the last point: On Thursday, I woke to a dream fragment – Diane and I walking out of a venue located on the third level of the Willow Grove Park Mall. (For those who know the mall, my imaginary club was located between the Bloomingdales and mall entrances.) We’d just seen a band called, I think, Reconsider Baby – after the Elvis song.

Earlier in the week, we listened to the Elvis channel on SiriusXM for a bit; it must have been one of the songs we heard, but I can’t say for sure.

That all leads to to this: The COVID-19 cluster at the White House is a metaphor for President Trump’s response to the pandemic. Even a lay person such as myself knows that rapid tests, while valuable tools, are flawed; that the White House apparently did not is incomprehensible. This Nature article from a few weeks back, for example, explains that, while a positive result is almost always accurate, a “negative” result doesn’t mean what it seems. A person in the earliest stages of infection is likely not to be detected; it’s why wearing masks, as annoying as they are, is important. When the White House relied on a rapid test to screen attendees for an overcrowded and mask-less event in the Rose Garden, the odds were good that an infected person would spread the coronavirus to others.

If Trump and his team remain in charge, my fear is that America won’t return to a semblance of normalcy anytime soon; instead, the odds are good they’ll bungle the rollout of a COVID vaccine. From where I sit, his response to the pandemic isn’t all that different than President Carter’s handling of the Iranian Hostage Crisis, not to mention the economic and energy difficulties that accented life in America during his term. Incompetence breeds incompetence.

As my Fringe binge (hopefully) demonstrates, however, I go out of my way to focus on things beyond the pandemic and politics; I’d encourage everyone reading this to do the same, if only for reasons of mental health. For me, music also is important: During my workday, especially in the morning, I listen to new and old favorites. Today, a Sunday, was no different – I pressed play on the Stone Foundation’s latest album yet again…

…then flashed back to the ‘80s for a spell with the Singular Adventures of the Style Council.

IMG_0283August 1978 wasn’t as hot as some months in the Delaware Valley. As this Weather Underground summary shows, the average temperature was 79 degrees, Fahrenheit. It eked into the 90s on nine occasions, topping out at 91, and plummeted into the 60s during seven overnights. It also rained on 14 days, though only two were true soakers – the first brought 1.16 inches and the second brought 2.34 inches.

For me, a newly minted teenager (I turned 13 the previous month), that likely meant I spent more days inside than out. In addition to being obsessed about music, I was obsessed with TV – so I survived. I also read a fair bit in those days, so I’m sure I spent a fair chunk of time in my room, stereo on and Stephen King novel in my hand.

Hot movies that summer included Grease, Jaws 2, Heaven Can Wait, The Cheap Detective, Hooper and Animal House; I wouldn’t see Animal House for a few years, and have yet to see Jaws 2, but otherwise I saw ‘em all in the theaters. My hometown of Hatboro, Pa., in those days, had its own single-screen movie theater; and the Village Mall in Horsham, which was something of a home away from home, housed a theater with two screens.

August 1978 was also the month that Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band first headlined New York City’s famed Madison Square Garden.

In the wider world: The U.S. unemployment rate, as it did for most of the year, hovered around 6 percent, but the wage- and allowance-killer that is inflation continued to threaten the average consumer’s purchasing power. From August to September of that year, inflation was gauged at .76 percent. That may sound like chump change, and in the abstract it is, but the reality is different. The inflation rate for 1978 as a whole clocked in at 7.62 percent, which meant that even with a typical 3-5 percent pay raise, folks ended the year with less spending money in their wallets.

Anyway, enough of the intro – onward to today’s Top 5: August 1978 (via Creem).

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1) Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band – “Hollywood Nights.” Bob Seger graces the cover of this issue of Creem. There’s an excellent, in-depth article written by one Patrick Goldstein about him, his entry into the big time with Night Moves, and his new album, Stranger in Town. “[It] was actually finished last November, but then, at the last minute, we scrapped it ‘cause it just didn’t feel right,” Seger explains.

An excerpt: “If there was ever a decade custom-made for the survival of the fittest, it is the ‘70s. It’s not a time for heroes, but for mood jewelry and digital watches. The most inspiring rock albums of the decade, Seger’s Night Moves, Springsteen’s Born to Run and Graham Parker’s Howlin’ Wind, sensing this bleak state of affairs, have turned their back on the present, preferring to explore remembrances of things past.

“This has has always been the most satisfying rock dream, to glorify the passions and pitfalls of adolescence, be it Parker’s yearning to go back to schooldays, Springsteen’s boys on the backstreets who ‘try to look so hard’ or Seger’s bittersweet tributes to ‘the memories that made me a wealthy soul.’

“This isn’t cheap nostalgia. It’s a way of facing up to all our missed opportunities and unfulfilled fantasies. Night Moves is a loving evocation of the wild and furious innocence of youth, jammed like a rush-hour freeway with proud, haunting reminiscences of ‘awkward teenage blues.’ Obviously, this stark and sentimental imagery hit a raw nerve. Night Moves quickly slipped into the pop lexicon, lending its name to a New York City sex club as well as at least one newspaper rock column (and Springsteen fanatics might re-examine the lyrics to ‘Jungleland’ for the Boss’s own melodramatic turn of the phrase).”

IMG_0286In the review section, there’s a write-up of Stranger in Town by one “Robot A. Hull” that recognizes it’s not as good an outing as Night Moves yet is still damn good. “Critically, this LP may cause nary a ripple, but no one can argue that Seger has become lazy and weighted down by platinum, for his approach is still dead ahead w/lotsa elbow grease.”

“Hollywood Nights,” the song I’ve chosen to feature here, is one of my favorite Seger numbers – written, the article informs us, while he was in L.A. mixing Stranger in Town and hanging out with longtime friend (and onetime backup singer) Glenn Frey. It’s a great song for driving.

IMG_02872) Paul McCartney & Wings – “London Town.” There’s a good interview with Paul by Roy Carr. Among the subjects discussed: his enjoyment of some New Wave artists. Says Paul: “I quite like Elvis Costello. I like Nick Lowe because I’ve known him for a very long time. I really do like what they’re doing…being a bit more adventurous.”

A quote about his old band: “To me, the Beatles are just old newspaper clippings. The fact that people still live it out is just a compliment to me.”

And this exchange about that year’s Wings album, London Town:

CREEM: If anything, there’s a subtle psychedelic undercurrent on many cuts. Some of the arrangements can be traced back to Sgt. Pepper and the White Album.

McCARTNEY: I suppose we were going for that kind of feel by doing more complex arrangements but I’m not about to analyze it. Next time around we’ll go for a bit more sweat. Really, it’s down to writing sweaty numbers and, believe me, they’re the hardest of the lot to write.

The whimsical title track is one of the songs with the “subtle psychedelic undercurrent” that Roy Carr refers to, I think.

IMG_02893) Patti Smith – “Because the Night.” There aren’t many female artists mentioned in this issue, which isn’t much of a surprise. Women were often given short shrift in the pages of music magazines – not just because of the editorial slants, but because most women were shepherded into the realm of pop or the singer-songwriter genre, which didn’t (always) get as much coverage in rock-oriented periodicals. Rock ’n’ roll itself was primarily seen (and heard) as the domain of men, which explains why a wealth of generic rock bands – Starz, Status Quo, Foghat and that ilk – were afforded plenty of ink. Oh, sure, there were exceptions to that rule – there always are – but it would take another generation or two before women rockers really got their due. That said, there is this full-page ad for Patti Smith’s classic Easter LP: “It’s the album rock & roll has been waiting for. Featuring the hit single ‘Because the Night.’ Written by Patti Smith and Bruce Springsteen.”

IMG_02914) Carly Simon – “You Belong to Me.” Speaking of female singer-songwriters, here’s one of my favorites, though she’s not mentioned in a positive light. Robert Christgau has a fairly snide take on Boys in the Tree, Carly’s seventh studio album: “Carly generally makes a marriage seem more boring and more nasty than I’ve found it to be, but not on this album, where matrimony is abandoned for more adolescent subjects, Even the two please-don’t-cheat-oh-hubby songs – the better (and nastier) of them written by Carly’s hubby – can be interpreted by her younger fans as please-don’t-cheat-oh-boyfriend. In a way, this is too bad – if Carly were to come up with an interesting song about marriage, someone less conventional musically than Carly & Arif might cover it and give Carole and me something new to sing along to. John and Yoko, where are you now that we need you?”

His opinion notwithstanding, “You Belong to Me” is a good-great song. Written by Carly and Michael McDonald, it was first recorded by the Doobie Brothers on their 1977 Livin’ on a Fault Line album, released as a single and stalled out on the charts at No. 79. A year later, Carly released her own rendition, which hit No. 6.

IMG_02935) The Kinks – “Misfits.” Reviewer Rick Johnson dislikes the Kinks’ 17th studio album. “The Kinks have a long and tired history of chronic disappointment,” he writes. “Since shortly after they began their temporary stay with RCA Snail, they’ve been putting out one come-as-you-are album after another, each one watery enough to float on styrofoam.”

Of the album itself, he opines that “Ray Davies did write a great melody here – the title cut – but the rest of these tunes are plain clothes at best. You get little hints of his stabbed-sweetly melodic turns here and there (‘Perm Waves,’ ‘R&R Fantasy’) but that’s all. A lick and a promise ain’t what I call a great songwriter. As for Davies’ voice, it’s still functioning, but except for some tiny flicks of defiance in ‘Get Up,’ well, let’s just say that George and Roger are probably fluffing up his pillow at the Old Voices Home right now.”

Granted, Misfits is far from a five-star album, but – to my ears, at any rate – the title cut and “Rock & Roll Fantasy” are great songs.