Marshall Crenshaw portrayed Buddy Holly in the 1987 film La Bamba.
SamuraiFrog was posting his ambitious Ranking Weird Al Yankovic list. #6 was “Melanie (Original; from Even Worse, 1988). A little bit of Marshall Crenshaw, a little bit of the Hollies, but not a specific style parody.”
Hmm. I wrote: “Sometimes, if you want, please discuss the difference – musically – between parody and ‘in the style of’. I always thought Melanie was Marshall’s My Favorite Waste of Time.”
Mr. Frog: “I never knew about the Marshall Crenshaw song until I saw people talking about it on the YouTube comments; Wikipedia just lists it as an original. (Though they both sound like they borrow sounds from The Hollies.) (Which led me to Bette Midler’s version, which was unexpected.) I’m not sure what permutations anyone has used (if any) to justify it, but it really just sounds like a straight lift to me.”
Yeah, me too.
I have his first two albums. For those of you unfamiliar with Marshall Crenshaw, Wikipedia has some stuff. He’s only had one Billboard Top 40 ‘Pop’ hit, Someday, Someway [LISTEN], which hit #36 in 1982.
Two interesting facts: “He got his first break in 1978, playing John Lennon in the musical Beatlemania, first as an understudy in New York, then in the West Coast company, then in a national touring company. He left the show in February, 1980.” He portrayed Buddy Holly in the 1987 film La Bamba, which was about the singer Richie Valens, who died in a plane crash with Holly and the Big Bopper in February 1959.
(You’re) My Favorite Waste of Time: Marshall Crenshaw; his 1979 home demo of the song was released as the B-side of Someday Someway Bette Midler, which I also own
I have a stuffed lion with a wild mane which I named Lenny.
The office move is mostly complete, but the inner offices are chaos. The recovery goes well, so now I’m trying to catch up on everything that got put on hold.
The song Sweet Inspiration was the biggest hit for the group The Sweet Inspirations.
“The Sweet Inspirations were an American R&B girl group founded by Emily “Cissy” Houston (née Drinkard), mother of Whitney Houston, and sister of Lee Warrick (herself the mother of well-known sisters Dee Dee and Dionne Warwick).
“The group sang backup for many stars, including Solomon Burke, Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett, and Esther Phillips… [They] provided the backup vocals for Van Morrison on his classic hit ‘Brown Eyed Girl’…In 1967, the group did backing vocals for the Jimi Hendrix single “Burning of the Midnight Lamp” which was later featured on the album Electric Ladyland in 1968. They also backed Dusty Springfield on her album Dusty in Memphis.
“In 1969… The Sweet Inspirations also began recording and touring with Elvis Presley as both background singers and his warm-up act, as well as doing occasional ‘live’ dates with Aretha Franklin.”
In the midst of this work for others, the group managed to put out some albums in their own right. The song Sweet Inspiration was the biggest hit for the group, going to #18 on the pop charts and #5 on the soul charts.
Cissy Houston left the group in 1969, but various iterations of the group are still performing.
There are several songs, that I had never heard in their original forms until I had heard them in the medley.
The illustrious Illinois blogger SamuraiFrog decided to rank all of “Weird Al” Yankovic’s songs, 165 of them, an impressive undertaking. So, I decided to come up with a list of my 33 favorite Weird Al songs. Why 33? Because LPs play at 33 revolutions per minute. And I’m going to break them up into three posts of 11 songs each, mostly because posting 11 posts of three songs each would be weird.
Why now? Other than the fact that yesterday was Al’s 56th birthday, no real reason. I just like it, and isn’t what blogging is supposed to be about? I’ll post Part 2 in a month or so, and part 3 a month after that, unless I’m desperate for blog content.
First, a couple of nearly on the list: * The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota (sort-of-based on Harry Chapin’s “30,000 Pounds of Bananas,” from UHF and Other Stuff, 1989)
*This Is the Life (Original; single from the motion picture Johnny Dangerously, 1984) This is from some apparently terrible Michael Keaton movie I’ve never seen.
33. Ode to a Superhero (Parody of “Piano Man” by Billy Joel; from Poodle Hat, 2003) Spider-Man was the character I most related to in the Marvel Universe, and I own the first two Sam Raimi movies on DVD. No, that’s not true; it was Peter Parker, his beleaguered alter ego. I’m fond of Billy Joel’s music; I saw him live in concert c 1974. If it’s merely telling the story of Raimi’s Spider-Man, that’s OK.
32. First World Problems (Style parody of the Pixies; from Mandatory Fun, 2014) When The Daughter made her list of favorite Weird Al songs last year, this was #1. Love the hair, and the acting: the facial expressions, the walk. The misplaced outrage would be funnier if it weren’t often so true.
This is from Al’s first #1 album, and the first comedy album since Allan Sherman’s over a half-century earlier to hit the top of the charts.
31. My Bologna (Parody of “My Sharona” by The Knack; from “Weird Al” Yankovic, 1983) Those early parody versions were not as polished as they would develop into. It uses accordion (in lieu of guitar), like much of his early work. If it’s a dumb song, I enjoyed it at that level.
30. Jurassic Park; #5 in Canada, #84 in Australia in 1993 (Parody of “MacArthur Park” by Richard Harris; from Alapalooza, 1993) Have I actually seen the movie Jurassic Park? I’ve seen big chunks of it. The song MacArthur Park is such over-the-top kitsch that I developed an odd affection for the Richard Harris performance. A great pairing.
29. The Brady Bunch (Parody of “The Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats; from “Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D, 1984) I never actually watched one minute of The Brady Bunch, until it went into reruns. I discovered it was a pretty terrible show, as the protagonist in the Al song notes. At least the theme song at least told you what the show was about.
28. Callin’ in Sick (Original; from Bad Hair Day, 1996) From SamuraiFrog: “Man, Given Al’s ability to absurdly paint small dissatisfactions as life-defining (and life-thwarting) obstacles of epic proportions, he really ran with the joke. I think it says a lot that, 19 years later, this song sounds less like a parody of a popular style and more like a legitimate grunge single. He nailed it.” I have over 125 sick days right now; I don’t call nearly often enough.
27. Bob (Style parody of Bob Dylan; from Poodle Hat, 2003) Mr. Frog got it right: “I’m a Dylan fan, but if you’ve ever gritted your teeth in patience when someone goes on and on and on and on and on about how deep Bob Dylan’s lyrics are, someone doing a parody of Dylan with nothing but palindromes for lyrics is deeply refreshing.” I especially love the cue card motif, which was used in Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues.
26. Hardware Store (Style parody of Oingo Boingo; from Poodle Hat, 2003) As Mr. Frog said: “That refrain is just pure genius. This is one of those great little songs where Al turns the mundane into the glorious.”
25. Mr. Popeil (Style parody of the B-52’s; from “Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D, 1984) Not only is this a great style parody, it reminds me of all those endless Ron Popeil ads where he says, “But wait–there’s more!”
24. The Alternative Polka (Medley; from Bad Hair Day, 1996) – songs listed HERE My specific affection for this is that there are several songs, “Loser” by Beck, and “Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden, for two, that I had never heard in their original forms until I had heard them in the medley, so it was informative. And his treatment of the angst-ridden “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette just cracked me up
23. Pancreas (Style parody of Brian Wilson; from Straight Outta Lynwood, 2006) This is SO much Beach Boys, circa 1967. And given that the Daughter is now studying biology, maybe this should be part of her educational curriculum.
For DECADES, I misheard the line in Groovin’, “Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly.”
Top: Dino, Eddie. Bottom: Felix, Gene.
The day the Beatles broke up in 1970, my favorite active band became the Rascals, formerly the Young Rascals, out of Garfield, New Jersey.
Vocalist/tambourine player Eddie Brigati and his fellow Rascals Felix Cavaliere (organ/vocals) and Gene Cornish (guitar/vocals) were once part of Joey Dee and the Starliters of “Peppermint Twist” fame. (David Brigati, Eddie’s brother, was in an earlier incarnation of the Starliters, and sang occasionally with the Rascals.) The Rascals’ drummer was Dino Danelli.
Felix and Eddie were the primary songwriters. In 2009, Cavaliere and Eddie Brigati were inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame. I had, and have, all of their albums, save for the first one, on vinyl.
When the Rascals, proponents of what was dubbed “blue-eyed soul”, left Atlantic Records and signed with Columbia Records in the early 1970s, and segued into a jazzier mode, Eddie and Gene left the band.
My personal favorite 20 Rascals songs in the Atlantic era, though only the top six are inflexible:
20. Away Away, from the See album (S). B-side of See, 1969. It’s the drum pattern in the verse, versus the harmony vocals on the chorus. It’s also the best song Gene Cornish wrote for the group; he’d get one song per album, rather like George Harrison with the Beatles. 19. Mustang Sally, from Young Rascals album (YR). B-side of Good Lovin’,1966. The Young Rascals performed a lot of covers, and this was my favorite. Well, except for the song I didn’t know was a cover. 18. A Beautiful Morning, from the Time/Peace album. #3, 36 rb in 1968. This is was the only new song on their greatest hits album, at the point they dropped the “Young” from the group name. 17. I’ve Been Lonely Too Long, from the Collections (C) album. #16, #33 rb in 1967. I loved the Collections, er collection, starting with the cover. 16. Come On Up, (C). #43 in 1966. The Rascals sound was heavily defined by that B-3 Hammond organ that Felix played, though this also has a nice guitar solo.
15. Find Somebody, from the Groovin’ album (G). The guitar line by Felix that bounces back and forth is hypnotic and vaguely psychedelic. 14. I Ain’t Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore, (YR). #52 in 1966. It was all there in the first single. Especially the great vocals, led by Eddie, and that organ. 13. What Is the Reason, (C). B-side of Come On Up, 1966. Especially like the little drum solo in the outro. 12. See, (S). #27 in 1969. The Rascals were deep in their love and peace mode. 11. Love Is A Beautiful Thing, (C). B-side of You Better Run, 1966. The shared vocal in some ways feels like the purest Rascals song.
10. It’s Wonderful, from the Once Upon a Dream album. #20 in 1968. For some reason, this became a song that my sister Leslie and I used to jog around the living room to. 9. People Got To Be Free, from the Freedom Suite album (FS). #1 for five weeks, #14 rb in 1968. One of its pluses: it starts right away, giving DJs of the day no opportunity to talk over an instrumental intro. It’s almost sappily optimistic. But is that so bad? Plus, I’m a sucker for train symbolism, e.g., the Impressions’ People Get Ready. 8. Sueno, (G). B-side of Groovin’, 1967. This is your basic psychedelic-pop-flamenco tune. 7. Ray of Hope, (FS). #24, #36 rb in 1969. Odd thing: for years, I thought this song was just OK. But, for some reason, around MLK Day 2015, it came to mind and stayed there. I hadn’t even heard it for quite a while. But I could hear in my head the wonderful detail of the vocal modulations, and I developed a newfound respect for the song. 6. A Girl Like You, (G). #10 in 1967. From the start, it brought me joy. The call and response vocals. The orchestration, with the horns; is that a harp?
5. You Better Run, (G). #20 in 1966. This is a song that was old enough to have appeared on the earlier Collections album in 1966 but did not. It occurred to me that the rhyme is extremely simple in the verse. Line, same line, a rhyming couplet, the first line. Yet powerful for that. 4. Groovin’, (G). #1 for four weeks, #3 rb in 1967. For DECADES, I thought the line, “Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly” ended as “you and me and LESLIE.” Since Leslie was my father’s name and is my sister’s name, I thought it was them picking a clever gender-non-specific name. But it’s a lovely song. 3. Good Lovin’, (YR). #1 in 1966. From Songfacts: “It was originally recorded in 1965 by The Olympics, a Novelty/Doo-Wop group…[The Young Rascals] recorded the song…, and although the group did not like the outcome, famed producer Tom Dowd loved the rawness of it, and that version was released, becoming a huge hit.” Yes, I love the garage-band vigor of the song. 2. How Can I Be Sure, (G). #4 in 1967. I mentioned earlier in the year that this was a waltz, which surprised some folks who obviously had never danced around the living room to this. Feel like I’m in Paris, with the accordion plus the trumpet and strings. 1. It’s Love, (G). B-side of A Girl Like You, 1967. Lives on the bass line and that Hubert Laws flute. Plus lyrics: “Oh, what a wild sensation, Multiple revelations.”
SamuraiFrog was posting his ambitious Ranking Weird Al Yankovic list. #6 was “Melanie (Original; from Even Worse, 1988). A little bit of Marshall Crenshaw, a little bit of the Hollies, but not a specific style parody.”
