If I remember correctly, this was done by B.J. Thomas and then by Blue Suede. And you know what? I liked both versions! But, who knows what I would have thought if either had a video attached to it? The links are from live performances by both, but feel free to search again and listen to the audio for both in all their glory without the audience fanfare.

Check David flying through the air, David doing the pogo with an African tribe, David joining himself onscreen and David surfing the ice dressed in an Eskimo suit.

The only thing more sad about the video has to be the poor extras, who for the rest of their lives, live with the burdensome knowledge that the highlight of their fame was as an extra in a David Hasselhoff video.

Enjoy. Or not (as my daughter would say).

It should be romantic is what we’ve learned. But, really, sometimes it’s just all about:

Duane Allman: Games People Play

This happened at the Paradise Theater in Boston during a break in a performance by NRBQ. I was there on a whim because the music company that I worked for usually had free tickets to all events at the Paradise, and along with a two free drink enticement I was suddenly a fan. The Paradise was a social mecca back in the day and it was always a heady rush to walk in, shake hands with a few local DJ’s who knew me, nod and smile at the regular bartenders, sit on a red leather capped silver stool with my back against the massive mirror that lined the side wall and take in the scene. It was all smiles, friendly nods and music that impacted my taste and will stay with me forever.

After the show, and after Tricia parted ways with her friends who were reluctant to let her go home with someone she just met, we ended up going to a reservoir near where she lived, somewhere along the intersection of routes 128 and 20.

Must be something about my blood, but I have always been a superior mosquito magnet. Despite all that happened, despite how well she kept to her word of what she would engage in when we were alone, what I remember most vividly were the mosquitos.

And, Sammy Hagar coming from the speakers in my car.

I, for some reason, kept playing Sammy’s Street Machine over and over during the time I was seeing Tricia. Could be that I identified her so closely with the album, but way before joining VH and way before the nauseous ‘I Can’t Drive 55‘, Sammy could rock your toenails out of their nailbeds.

Never Say Die
Right up until this very morning, and every so often when times get tough as they tend to do, I hear  Sammy singing the line ‘But I’ll never say die!” There must be a permanent gorge, like there are in certain mountain valleys, where when something difficult has obstructed me in some way, just as water will flow down that mountain valley in a deeply etched riverway, I hear that line every single damn time! What’s up with that?

So, Sam gives us a bit of his history here, about his distaste for the hippies who turned into businessmen, about him never letting go of his religion and about the struggles that happen to us all. Of the two I chose, this is not the rocker, but rather the electric statement for a push to succeed and stay true to yourself. Put in a hard-edged sax solo at the end and you’ve got a 4’47 gem.

My mom and dad never understood.
But compared to their problems, you know, mine looked good.
They screamed, “Where’s the money?” and “Where’s all the love?”
And “Where’s the help from the man up above?”

I never gave up my religion
As I did my teenage time.
I said, “When I’m of age, I wanna walk out smilin’
Maybe I’ll cry…
But I’ll never say die…”

I’ll never say die… Ohhh!

Straight To The Top
Now, this’ll make you sit up straight and take notice because this is the balls to the walls smoking guitar (without the head banging that results in a cervical collar) that we all need a dose of every so often. Sammy is one of those that are able to showcase his lead chops without losing us with a boring and extended solo (hot dog stand anyone?) and plunges this track out of the gate with a bang.

He’s known as the partying type and this track proves that he didn’t just acquire that in his last few incarnations, but had it with him all along. I just love proof of how good an artist was years before anyone else had heard of them.

You say you like to have a good time
You’re no different than the rest
And you know it’s not the first time
That you’ve given it your best.

But for some unknown reason
There’s no quest straight to the top
And I can see no reason
Why it’s ever gonna stop.

Straight to the top,
It ain’t never gonna stop!

Come to find out, Tricia was ‘very well-to-do’ and when her father first met me, he being some type of retired Admiral, didn’t approve of my earring or hair. He further developed a dislike for me when as he looked out the living room window as we left his house one evening he noticed my beat up car, and the fact that no, I didn’t open the passenger side door to politely let his daughter in first, it was because the driver’s side door was broken and I had to get in her side first. We were very far apart on the socio-economic scale and didn’t have a lot in common except perhaps on a ferrel and primitive level.

She later turned out to be quite … shall we say ‘disturbed’. She once used a brick to hammer away the doorknob so she could scavenge through the apartment looking for anything that she had left there or had made for me including greeting cards, a hand-stitched rug, a vibrator, mixed tapes and even last night’s leftovers. Ahhhh, memories … whatever happened to ….?

As for the rest of the story about our first time meeting, I can almost still feel with painful clarity the discomfort caused to me by the hoards of mosquitos that feasted with merry haste on my bare skin that night. I was a Walter Reed test subject who somehow lived to tell the tale.

Less than twenty-four hours later, I stood with my naked backside towards my roommate while he incredulously counted the bites.

On my dorsal side alone, I had endured the mighty pestilence attack 53 times. I was a mass of welts that night, but for some supernaturally lucky reason, mosquito bites always tend to heal and leave me quickly.

Hard to decide what I remember more about that night, because I still wince a little thinking of the mosquitos, but I still get a strong rush when I hear these Sammy Hagar tracks.

Never Say Die
Straight To The Top
From: Sammy Hagar – Street Machine [1979]

Horace is a typical geek who, beginning on  a Monday, is constantly late for work and in danger of losing his job, very lonely and seemingly directionless. By the end of the week, a Sunday, he has learned to listen to his “inner voice” and reaches for the nerve to turn himself around. Curious that the day Saturday is omitted from the story. Jeff Lynn explained that it was because football is played on Saturday.

Very catchy and hand-clap worthy, with their trademark operatic vocals modulating upward and outward and a chorus that begs to be turned up.

Don’t be afraid, just knock on the door.
But he just stood there mumblin’ and fumblin’,
Then a voice from above said:

Horace Wimp this is your life
Go out and find yourself a wife!
Make a stand and be a man
And you will have a great life plan!

ELO: The Diary of Horace Wimp

As I looked for an accompanying video, I found this hilarious take on Horace’s odyssey. It looks like it was done for an amature video competition, but no matter, it made me laugh out loud.

Pulling out and listening to The Diary of Horace Wimp by ELO once in a while is a decision never regretted. A perfect surprise to the speakers.

To kick it off, I’m going with Journey. Yea, I know, Journey’s considered a guilty pleasure out there to the masses, but honestly, I never got the appeal! On the other hand, I’m obviously the minority.

Here for your viewing displeasure is “Open Arms“. Ugh.

Agree? Disagree? Comments are welcome.

Never mind if you loved or hated Disco, or dance music in general, the passing years have shown that Donna Summer has turned in a few timeless tunes – and in the process, turned your hips too. Even years after her royal heyday, you can still put on one of her tracks and whisper and acquiesce to yourself that maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. It’s great music to blast away while whittling time and taking care of business.

Her accomplishments and mind-boggling achievements in the music biz include:

• First artist to have three double albums in a row reach number one
• Eleven gold albums
• Twelve gold singles
• Academy Award for “Last Dance”
• Twelve Grammy nominations
• Five Grammy Awards
• Dance Hall of Fame inductee
• Successfully charted on the Disco/Club Billboard charts starting in 1975 right up to 2010
• Was reported by Time Magazine that she had twenty-two orgasms during the recording of “Love to Love You Baby”

OK, the last one was thrown in just for titillation, but all in all, as Elvis fans correctly stated, “50,000,000 Fans Can’t Be Wrong”. The point being, for so much early bashing of Disco, and dance music in general, someone had to be buying the disks! Maybe you were one of them? Are you a reformed ‘come out of the closet’ Donna supporter? You are not alone.

Our Love
You’d have to be specially trained in rigid self-control not to tap unconsciously during the drum beat between the lyrics “Our love” (drum beat) … “Will last forever” (drum beat).A highly infectious synthesizer riff is the backbone to this mega-hit. Sommers voice, highly trained by the way, is filled with muted restraint but bucks from the corral when she determinedly states that their love is destined to hold on and make it through the distance that’s keeping them apart. This is her love letter, sent through the miles, that she will be there waiting for him.

I Feel Love
Eight minutes and seventeen seconds of pure escapism bliss! Call this one a guilty pleasure evoking images of a past that’s squarely entrenched within the clotted bulk of the disco frenzy, complete with men’s chest hair flowing out of half-unbuttoned silk shirts, women’s skirts that curve and whirl up to almost the waist when spinning around, coked-up impresarios, long lines of hopefuls waiting for the doorman’s magical finger to point at them – a ticket to come in, and a sound system so loud it would case a rush of embarrassed excitement in any up and coming band that swore they were only there to see what all the hype was about.

After a few too many sex on the beach drinks, when Donna begins the chorus soft and low, it could almost swell up like the first waves of a morphine drip as it washes you clean starting from the toes, and crests on your frontal lobe while it splashes and dissipates. A magnificent centerpiece to hedonism.

Lastly, here for your viewing pleasure, a video of Donna performing ‘Could It Be Magic‘ in Germany (I believe) sometime in the 70′s. The video opens with the swinging Disco moves of a gentleman dressed as a maîtres d’hôtel and his partner, a woman outfitted as this evening’s random hostess. When Donna comes into view, take note of the upper right hand corner that has ABBA posted on the wall embedded on the film. This is another great track, written by Barry Manilow, and was one that I considered for this post. I don’t care about your knee-jerk groans to the Manilow reference, a great tune is a great tune no matter who wrote/performed it.

Donna Summer: Our Love
Donna Summer: I Feel Love (12″ Single)
From: Donna Summer – Bad Girls (Deluxe Edition)

But, until then, let’s ring in 2011 with Lightning Hopkins and his stomp on a brand new year! Bright and crisp, his guitar playing is a certain finger snappin’, head noddin’ number that we’re lucky to have and is a welcome addition to any party hovering toward midnight on any given December 31st.

This track comes from my indispensable disk “Blue Yule Christmas: Blues and R&B Classics”, a must have for you that are into roots holiday music, but Lightning’s original is on Brunswick and recorded in 1953.

This is a Happy New Year
Ain’t gonna worry me to death!
Don’t think about Christmas,
Cause Christmas just done left.

Lightning Hopkins: Happy New Year
Blue Yule Christmas: Blues and R&B Classics

I hope that 2011 is the year that will bring in peace, happiness, prosperity, health and fruition of all ancillary dreams for all of my blog friends out there!

Well, a bonus! A quick search on YouTube brought me to a video that’s not a performance, but a passable pastiche of photos and paintings. Nice to have something, rather than nothing!

However, I’m reading that she was the first, the very first, white artist signed to Motown Records. I’m questioning that. It’s my belief that Rare Earth was the very first white band signed to Motown Records when the label signed them to a brand new subsidiary label called Rare Earth records back in the 60′s. Technically they did not have the Motown label on their output, but doesn’t a subsidiary technically count as being on Motown Records? I’d appreciate any comments on this.

Here in central Mass we were supposed to get a huge snowfall. The Governor called a state of emergency, parking bans were in effect and the snow blanket was to be a white chlorophyl to all activities. But, I look out this morning and it seems that we only received maybe six inches.

Man, I so dislike all the hype surrounding the snow that we get year after year, storm after storm, channel upon channel. Every storm seems to get penultimate TV and radio coverage and they build it up with such a frenzy that you’d think disaster and panic are falling instead of snow. As to the accuracy, I know it’s not an exact science, but six inches is a far cry from the eighteen inches predicted.

Merry Christmas, My Love
I first stumbled on the D’s 3 when I was a huge fan of MP3.com back in the day… was it the mid 90′s? The site had all sorts of goodies and around one Christmas I happened upon this track. An utterly delightful, original song it sways and lulls a perfect Christmas chestnut. I couldn’t find anything on the band through a simple search so I don’t know if they’re around anymore. But I did find a mini bio still on MP3.com:

The D’s 3 are a whirlwind of talent that can only be described as GREAT. This mother-daughter trio has a fresh, inviting sound that mesmerizes audiences of all ages. With five albums to their name, The D’s 3 are a diversified and established band. But what makes The D’s 3 such a special band is their ability to compose original music in addition to covering some of the world’s best standards. Their repertoire includes a vast range of musical genres including, but not limited to, Jazz, Pop, Latin, Jumpin’ Jive, Swing, and Broadway.

Pick up a hooked ornament ready for placing on the tree, have a bite of a frosted cookie and let this one become a pleasing favorite that hits the special day’s meaning just right. It would do your heart good this time around to hear something quaint, gentle and soothing without electric cacophony.

It’s not about the presents
Covered with ribbons and bows.
All I want is to be with you
Underneath the mistletoe!
Hold me, don’t ever let me go.
Whisper in my ear, just how much you love me so!

The D’s 3: Merry Christmas, My Love

Primo listening here for the uninitiated masses and for an unknown reason, this is the song I most associate them with and not ‘The Letter‘. Go figure. Maybe someone else can write a comment about how high this charted (was it even a Top 40 hit?) but as usual, I didn’t notice. All I’ve ever cared about is the feel of a song - you might be one of those that go crazy with one of my mixed CD’s on a road trip.

If I remember correctly, this was a song which someone much older than me played on a stereo when I was just a kid - and even then it was old. I might be right in assuming that the lyrics are celebrating ‘ladies of the night’ but no matter the hidden theme, the lazy Sunday afternoon around the bandstand Souza style horns and muted drums that sound as though they’re made out of oatmeal tins will lift you up and have you singing the chorus. And probably have you playing it for a second time listen.

Tell the socialites to look the other way
It’s instinctive simulation you convey
It’s a necessary function for those without compunction
Who get tired of vanilla every day

Pretty convincing lyrics to me at least.

Box Tops: Sweet Cream Ladies