History's Dumpster = GLORIOUS trash! Kitsch, music, fashion, food, history, ephemera, and other memorable and forgotten, famous and infamous pop culture junk and oddities of yesterday and today. Saved from the landfill of time...
I once saw a mail-order offer for this album in Metal Edge magazine back in 1988. The cover of this made me do the same double take you probably just did. So if you haven't already gotten the trigger warning; This is not an Anne Murray-type album.
But why it was mail order was an interesting fact of music distribution in the 1980s. Some major retail chains back then (including Walmart) simply did not stock then-independent labels such as The Great Kat's then-label, Roadrunner Records. And perhaps partly due to the then ongoing PMRC controversy and Roadrunner's then 1980s line-up of mostly scare-your-overly-religious-parents satanic shock metal bands, such as Obituary, Mercyful Fate and it's frontman, King Diamond that were hugely popular in the headbanger underground of the 1980s.
"And always remember to brush and floss daily, limit sweets, and get a dental check-up twice a year. Mr HappyHorns....AWAAAAAAYYYYY!!!...." Image: Discogs
And in the 1980s, many independent record stores in America outside of larger urban centers were being wiped out by mall chains, such as Sam Goody, Musicland and Wherehouse, which typically only had just enough floor space for the mainstream major label hit albums (though you could special order some releases through some chains, you usually had to pay more.)
So indie labels (even a few majors) often sold direct through fan magazines such as Metal Edge.
Your eyes almost melted from the bright, airbrushed full color glossiness of every page of Metal Edge.
And The Great Kat's Worship Me Or Die! was one ad for a record that somehow stuck in my head. Without even hearing it.
But even in my then heavy metal-centric stomping grounds of Lynnwood, Washington (circa 1988) and even in nearby Seattle, this album was somehow impossible to find locally. In any format.
So while promising myself I'd order a copy Worship Me Or Die! (I mean, like, that cover), other albums distracted me. I was a very foolish mortal. And soon, I would really be in for it.
I almost completely forgot this album until I came across a miracle copy of this LP at a Goodwill a decade later. I grabbed it. Took it home, wiped the dust off the grooves. Put on my headphones. And began my atonement.
And I was instantly disappointed. In myself. For not ordering this record when I should have. Because this album would have been the de facto soundtrack of a lot of headbanger parties, had I heard this back then. Because beneath the layers of metal cheese (and she didn't miss a single cliche) is some of the fastest speed metal guitar fretwork I've ever heard then. Or since.
An institutional grade Cuisinart could not shred speed metal lead guitar like The Great Kat. Forget the lyrics. I kept putting the needle back at the beginning of her guitar solos; What the hell did I just hear?
Even with all the thrash/speed metal I've heard up to this point, I still can't comprehend how this still exists absolutely ignored by the mainstream (ahem, rock radio.) But fortunately, you can hear this lost classic in it's entirely on Spotify and YouTube.
The Great Kat (aka Kathrine Thomas) is a Julliard-trained classical musician, which other than actual demonic influence might explain her amazing fretboard dexterity. She played classical music before crossing over to metal. She plays both violin and guitar.
Her later releases, while not quite as over the top as Worship Me Or Die! combined classical music with speed metal. Her skill getting even more shockingly fast with each new album.
The Great Kat Beethoven on Speed (1990)
And The Great Kat is still showing the boys how it's done. This is her latest, "Shredssissimo" (2021).
I've been asked this question now and then and to be perfectly honest, the 78 RPM speed is still with us. Mostly for collectors items and not as general releases. But it does occasionally surface.
But as general releases, 78 RPM was largely passe in America by 1957. In 1957, sales of 78 RPM records accounted for 4,500,000 units in 1957. In 1958, it plummeted to less than 500,000, less than 5% of overall sales and the writing was on the wall.
But it still had a visible, if fading market for children's records (mostly because kids inherited hand-me-down phonographs from their parents and many kids phonographs also still had that speed.)
Phonola Record Player, 1950s -60s Note the case is pure Vanity Fair/Imperial Party Time, but the tone arm is a plastic gramophone reproducer that used steel needles. These players (which also sold under Woolworth's house brand, Audition) had two speeds, 45 and 78 (which were the speeds of most kids records available at that time, 45 by the 1970s, but many 78s from the '50s and '60s. still existed.) These players were sold well into the early 1970s. Image: Etsyspot
But what I'm going to focus on here is what were the last general release singles worldwide at 78 RPM.
Image:
While 78 RPM was all but abandoned in America, (save for certain budget, independent, promo releases and oddities (The "Just Like Gene Autry; A Foxtrot" track on Moby Grape's Wow album is one example.) In South America, 78 RPM was still in use until the early '70s for certain pop releases.
But by this time also, 4 and 3 speed record changers were in twilight and practically non-existent outside a very select range of high-end turntables in the '80s and '90s.
"You're The One For Me, Fatty" Morrissey (1992, UK) Image: Discogs. Morrissey was the former lead singer of the British pop group The Smiths, best known for their 1984 alternative rock mega hit "How Soon Is Now". In 1992, he released a few 78s with selections from his solo album Your Arsenal.
"Millennium" Robbie Williams (2000, UK) Limited Edition of 999 numbered copies issued to commemorate the opening of the new HMV store in Oxford Street, London. Image: Discogs
The speed reemerged in the 2000s on some newer Crosley type junk players for playing old 78s. But some better quality turntables also began including it as the vinyl renaissance swept the country and anything with grooves fascinated Millennial hipsters. But most turntables still offer only the standard 33/45 speeds.
So to sum up, the last official general release new Western pop single on 78 that isn't a reissue, novelty, oddity, collector's item or promo is one that may never truly be known, even among collectors and they're still searching. The 1973 Brazilian Latimore 78 mentioned above is the most recent I've seen yet. I have heard of others that extend into the disco era, but I've never seen any as of this writing.
"Terraplane Blues" Robert Johnson (2019 Record Store Day reissue) Image: Discogs
On Saturday nights at 11:15pm in early 1971, after the 11PM evening newscast was over and the older folks were likely going to bed or watching the last late movies on other channels. KIRO TV & Radio in Seattle, Washington got psychedelic with their briefly run locally produced live music TV show series Telephonic Happening.
With then contemporary rock hits such as "Black Magic Woman/Gyspy Queen" Santana, "My Sweet Lord" George Harrison and "Honey Tonk Women" Rolling Stones and Matthews Southern Comfort's rendition of "Woodstock" (not heard on this clip) and guest appearances on this surviving episode by local acts Adam Wind and Cold Trane, Telephonic Happening was presented in experimental 4 channel Quadraphonic sound with color psychedelic visuals, filters, imagery and garden gnomes courtesy of local psychedelic light show producers, Retina Circus on the TV screen for freaky visuals.
It was a bold and overlooked first in broadcasting because unlike the pioneering Quad radio broadcasts, which began at Classical stations WGBH and WCRB in Boston in 1969, used the Stereo signals of the two FM radio stations, thus requiring two costly FM stereo receivers to hear the full program in Quad sound.
The experimental KIRO Quad system in Seattle for this program used all three of their AM/FM and TV signals. And it was awkward and uneven sounding. But it was simple, had a visual component and used equipment you already had; Your TV tuned to KIRO-TV 7 in front of you for a mono front-center channel and visual stage. An FM Stereo radio with separating speakers (tuned to KIRO-FM's then-frequency of 100.7 MHz) with the speakers placed directly at your left and right sides. And for the rear speaker, your AM tabletop or portable radio set to KIRO-AM (710 kHz) for Quad sound in an unusual diamond shaped pattern that probably would have impressed Pink Floyd if they saw it.
And at the very birth of the home theater experience, you took whatever you could get.
But psychedelia, rock music and experimental visual and audio voodoo in diamond patterns were not things KIRO was particularly known for back then. Owned then by Bonneville, the media division of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, neither KIRO-AM or FM even played rock music either in 1971. Which makes this all the more interesting an artifact.
Unfortunately, the audio on this clip is in mono.
The elegant sounding announcer you hear on this clip is the late Hal Willard. For decades, he was "Mr. Announcer Man" at KIRO-TV who read the weather reports during the J.P. Patches morning show.
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Listen at the end of the Telephonic Happening program where he recommends you send a postcard to the station telling them your requests and suggestions for future Telephonic Happening programs, but "suggest gently"....
Lord Sutch and Heavy Friends was named in a 1998
BBC poll as the worst album of all time, a status it also held in Colin
Larkin's book The Top 1000 Albums of All Time.
Kellogg's Just Right cereal was introduced in the USA in 1985. My mom bought a box and I remember us trying this, only getting a few bites in until we had to dump the rest of our bowls into the trash. It was nasty.
My peers in high school had the same opinion and we called it Just Sucks. The cereal was basically a fruitcake in a box. It had bran flakes, corn flakes, dates, raisins, almond bits and oats and pretty much targeted at the yuppie bunch.
This cereal had a massive ubiquitous TV advertising campaign for it (perhaps the largest I had ever seen for a cereal) and discount offers that moms of that time couldn't resist. But everyone under the age of 30 hated this commercial as much as the cereal because it was guaranteed to pop up at least 4 times an hour during daytime TV, it was nearly as bad during prime time and late at night too in 1985. It was everywhere on every channel.
But unbeknownst to the rest of us, this commercial would ironically be the launch pad for the career of one of the biggest pop stars of the '90s.
(For years, I thought Tori Amos' 1994 hit "Cornflake Girl" was her way of venting her angst over this commercial and the disgusting taste of that cereal that never seemed to go away. An interpretive sort of thing. But that wasn't the case. The interpretive venting over this disgusting cereal was probably Y Kant Tori Read.)
Just Right cereal was discontinued in America in the early '90s, but it's still sold in Australia.
A lost early sampler for Dr. Hook's 1975 LP Bankrupt. This was a free giveaway on record store counters to demonstrate the LP to potential buyers.
Bankrupt was Dr. Hook's first LP on Capitol Records. With their name shortened to simply "Dr. Hook" from the clunkier "Doctor Hook & The Medicine Show". The album contained their hits "Only Sixteen" (a cover of the Sam Cooke classic ) and "I Got Stoned And I Missed It."
Most of you have probably never heard this UK single before and technically, it's not even a Christmas song, but an anti-war song.
Yet if you live in the Seattle area, you definitely know it. It gets regular airplay on Seattle's Warm 106.9 radio during their annual holiday music format. For decades, it was a holiday season radio hit in the Puget Sound. An earworm that never seems to leave your brain once you hear it. It reached #3 on the British pop charts in December 1981. But there was never an American release of the song at that time. Either it wasn't considered or no American record label was interested in licensing the track for the U.S., thinking it wouldn't sell to American record buyers.
So how did this song get to be such a huge hit in Seattle and pretty much nowhere else outside of the UK?
Well first, we're weird here in Seattle. That said, there's a fascinating back story (here) to how this record was nearly lost forever and how it was finally saved.
The original label the record was on, Stiff Records, was a British independent specializing in "pub rock", new wave and punk (Nick Lowe, Elvis Costello, Madness, Lene Lovich, Tracey Ullmann and Ian Dury & The Blockheads were among Stiff's best known artists.) It became one of the most influential independent labels in the world in the early 1980s, ushering in the punk and new wave genres to the UK and the world.
This song however was clearly none of the above genres.
It was originally recorded by Jona Lewie (another Stiff artist), but it was The Cory Band's cover of the song that became the Seattle hit.
The Cory Band is a Welsh brass band and one of the longest continuous running bands in the world. They were founded in 1884 (The Rolling Stones have nothing on these guys) and are recognized as one of the world's most innovative and popular brass ensembles.
However somewhere along the way from the song's initial release, Stiff had erased and reused the original studio master tape of The Cory Band's version of this song (being a low-budget independent record label, that is not uncommon.) So when a Seattle record producer heard the track and contacted Stiff in 1997 to license an American re-release of this extremely rare single because of overwhelming demand from Seattle area radio listeners, Stiff looked in their vaults. Then told the producer the awful news.
A makeshift workaround had to be arranged with a vinyl copy of the song. Luckily, there were a few mint copies remaining from the original pressing. The producer made a decent transfer suitable for the re-release and sold 13,000 copies of the reissue locally.
It still remains one of the perennial holiday favourites in Seattle. Enjoy.
This song may be best known as Roberta Flack's signature song, but this was the original version of it, released a year before Roberta Flack's version became one of the biggest hits of 1973.
Now there's two utterly different stories on the origins of this song.
Lori Lieberman claimed she was inspired to write the song after watching a Don McLean concert. When he sang "Empty Chairs", she was so moved by his performance that the next day, she told her songwriting partners Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox, who then composed the song.
Gimbel and Fox however contended that the song was inspired by an Argentinian novel. Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar. In Chapter 2, the principal character describes himself as sitting in a
bar listening to an American pianist friend 'kill us softly with some 'blues'. Gimbel put it in his 'idea' book for use for later with a
parenthesis around the word 'blues' and substituted the word 'song' instead.
However, the dispute was settled when a New York Daily News interview article from 1973 was unearthed with Gimbel admitting that Lieberman's story had indeed inspired the song.
The song was revived in 1996 by the hip-hop group The Fugees, reaching #2 that year and the Plain White T's recorded a version in 2008.
But Bruce Springsteen's music (and this song in particular) is the type that utterly clashed with the general type of the R&B infected New Wavy dance music that was popular in the dance clubs in 1984 this version was made for. No matter how much drum machine and strange background singers you put in it.
That might be why Bruce Springsteen himself has never re-released this version of "Dancing In The Dark" on any of his compilations.
Ahhh....Another peaceful Sunday morning. Time to put on some nice, relaxing easy going music. Right?
Well I'm having none of it. It's time to crank it up full blast and wake up the neighbours with some truly awesome music. The stuff you just won't hear on the radio. Anywhere.
Outsider musicians are those folks who simply make music
the only way they know how. With very little to no musical training
whatsoever. The conventional requisites of stardom are simply unheard of among
outsider musicians.
This is not American Idol. There is no competition. Or critiquing. Or even practicing and rehearsals. What you hear is what you get.
They simply don't care about commercial success. Or
any musical conventionality even amateur musicians adhere strictly to. They make their
music on their own whims and for the sheer sake of their own personal enjoyment. Even if the only one enjoying it
is themselves, they wouldn't care.
It also differs from vanity acts. Vanity acts actively look for a commercial breakthrough and exposure to the masses. Most outsider acts would never be heard at all were it not for certain friends and associates encouraging them to take a leap of faith and record their material.
Sometimes a major label finds them, but that's usually a by-product of local press buzz or through chance contacts. The labels never seek outsider musicians and outsider musicians never seek the labels. If planets align, they align. But that's very rare if they do. The major labels want something that delivers a massive return on whatever investment they make. And that's something no outsider act has ever really done.
Outsider music isn't even a conscientious rebellion against mainstream rock and pop's status quo, which usually drives most hardcore independent lo-fi punk bands. They truly believe in what they are doing in spite of what anyone thinks. They simply let their dim lights shine.
But what may sound like tone-deaf psychiatric patients (some, but not all outsider musicians suffer from some sort of severe mental illness) to
the rest of us is technically a sub-sub genre of Alternative rock. It's not even a "new" thing ("Wild Man" Fischer, whom Frank Zappa discovered in the late 1960s, is a pioneer. So is David Peel, whom John Lennon discovered and released a few albums of his on the Beatles' Apple label in the early '70s, The Shaggs and to some extent, even Charles Manson.)
Today, we're going head first into the most obscure of obscure music genres. But like most of my posts here, I don't disclose everything. I like to leave some of it out for you, the reader, to explore on your own. I just merely set up the launch pad for your own journey (it might be one-way.) So this is not a complete list. Not by far. But it's enough to give a basic
insight into this strange genre. Google "Outsider music", if you're
really curious.
Bingo Gazingo
Sweet dreams, ladies.....
Bingo Gazingo (Murray Wachs, 1924-2010) was an elderly New York City outsider musician and poet with perhaps more punk rock authenticity than any band that ever played at CBGB's. And I mean all of them. He was, perhaps literally, the grandfather of punk.
With song titles like "Oh Madonna, You Stole My Pants", "Up Your Jurassic Park" and "I Love You So Fucking Much, I Can't Shit", you pretty much get the idea this was no ordinary retired postal worker from Queens.
He released an album through WFMU Radio in 1996 and this song, "You're Out of The Computer" was a collaboration with techno artist My Robot Friend (Howard Rigberg) from My Robot Friend's 2004 CD Hot Action! It also appears on the Songs in The Key of Z compilation of outsider music.
Tragically, Bingo Gazingo was struck down by a cab on his way to a performance at the Bowery Poetry Club where he appeared weekly every Monday night in November of 2009. He died of his injuries on New Year's Day, 2010. He was 85.
Wesley Willis
Wesley Willis (1963-2003) could be the most famousof outsider musicians, even garnering some airplay on mainstream alternative rock radio in the 1990s.
His story began as one of ten children born in a dysfunctional family (having so many siblings can throw even the most stable family off - think the Duggars) in the housing projects of Chicago. He spent most of his life going from foster home to foster home with two older brothers as their parents had a violent relationship and split up when Wesley was a child.
In spite of this horrific background, Wesley seemed to be a bright and fairly normal young man. However on October 21, 1989 (there are people who remember this specific date), he began to hear voices in his head, which he called "demons" and was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia.
About this time, he also began making music. Mostly as an outlet to escape the turmoil inside his head. He also made artwork and was discovered by members of Chicago's alternative rock scene, who encouraged his musical pursuits. This led to a collaboration called The Wesley Willis Fiasco and he actually became a sensation in the Chicago alternative underground, gaining attention from major label American Recordings, which was distributed by Warner Bros.
His favourite greeting wasn't a handshake or a hug. It was a headbutt to the forehead. I am not making that up. This left a permanent bruise on his forehead.
His music was crude, rambling and often profane. One unique characteristic of Wesley Willis is no matter what song he's performing, they all sound identical to each other. They mostly are songs about things that he had personally identified with in his life. Such as his local McDonald's, bands and stars such as Pink Floyd, Foo Fighters, Kurt Cobain and whatever else figured.
Here's a sample of what that sounded like
He eventually recorded 50 albums from 1994 until his untimely death in 2003 from leukemia. He was 40.
Daniel Johnston
Daniel Johnston, like Wesley Willis, also suffers from schizophrenia and like Willis, also uses music as a way to cope with it. Johnston is also a visual artist as well. However Johnston is different in the sense that his music is more introspective and melodic than either Wesley Willis or Bingo Gazingo. He's been called a "fractured genius" and "the indie Brian Wilson". He quite possibly could have achieved mainstream stardom and in fact, he came quite close to it.
Daniel Johnston began recording music as a teenager on a boombox at home in the late '70s. By the early '80s, he was self releasing his own material. He moved to Austin and appeared on MTV in 1985, which gained him further exposure. He went on to make more recordings, including collaborations with Sonic Youth, Half Japanese and other indie acts, who became fans of his.
But his schizophrenia was also worsening. In 1990, on the way to West Virginia on a small, private two-seater plane piloted by his father Bill, Johnston had a manic psychotic episode believing he was Casper the Friendly Ghost
and removed the key from the plane's ignition and threw it out of the
plane. His father, a former Air Force pilot, managed to successfully
crash-land the plane, even though "there was nothing down there but
trees". Although the plane was destroyed, Johnston and his father
emerged with only minor injuries. As a result of this episode, Johnston
was involuntarily committed to a mental hospital.
In the early '90s, Kurt Cobain was often seen wearing a t-shirt with the cover image of Johnston's 1983 album Hi, How Are You? on it.
Which lead to even more interest in Daniel Johnston. Even while involuntarily committed at the mental hospital, Warner Music label Elektra Records was interested in signing him, but he refused the deal as Elektra then was also the label home of Metallica, whom Johnston thought worshipped Satan.
Eventually he signed with Warner co-owned Atlantic Records, which released his only major label LP Fun in 1995. The album flopped commercially and Atlantic ended his contract in 1996.
In 2005, a full length documentary DVD on Daniel Johnston's life The Devil and Daniel Johnston was released.
Johnston is still active in music.
Jandek
To say Jandek is merely an outsider musician just doesn't quite cut it. In fact, he's been described as "The Rock N' Roll J.D. Salinger". Because he's perhaps the most reclusive of all the outsider musicians.
Yet he has released over 70 albums on the mail order Corwood Industries label. A label that while Jandek maintains a certain distance from professionally, has only issued Jandek material. And he has a surprisingly loyal and solid worldwide fan base. With almost no radio airplay or any promotion of any kind.
Most Jandek albums feature a young man on the covers in random photo shots and when you lay them out, you realize they are the same person - Jandek himself? Possibly.
But nothing has been directly confirmed by Jandek - he's only done a few interviews. But in rare recent pictures of Jandek, you do see a very strong, even uncanny resemblance.
Jandek's actual name has never been confirmed directly either, but he's believed to be Sterling Smith and he was born in 1945. Other than that, very little else is known about him. And that's how he likes it.
His music is a sort of psychedelic country-blues. But even that description isn't quite accurate. Jandek is a genre all to himself.
Jandek is an enigma even by outsider music standards. And that's saying something. In 2003, he released Jandek on Corwood, a documentary DVD that doesn't answer even the most basic questions of his life his fans always wanted to know. But then again, that mystique is still a part of his attraction.
He's still active, releasing an album or two a year and occasionally touring.
