This 1965 quartet existed 2 years too early for a Super Bowl halftime show.
Because this year’s Super Bowl entertainment, Bruno Mars and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, probably does not lend itself to RTH hi-jinx, I propose we spend the days leading up the game considering an idea suggested offlist by Townsman diskojoe:
[NOTE: This thread was previously private and able to be seen only by the eyes of RTH thread authors. Those who are weak of heart may want to avoid this thread altogether. – Mr Mod.]
This is a private message for the eyes of Rock Town Hall contributing writers only.
The calliope, that strange carnival organ that only seems to play goofy, off-kilter, slightly menacing “carnival music.” Truth be told, I know nothing about the instrument, such as what makes a calliope a calliope. To be even more truthful, if you can handle it, I wasn’t even sure if a calliope was an instrument or a style of music. A 12-second scan of YouTube results for the search term calliope tells me it’s an instrument.
Rather than investigate the inner workings of a calliope, I prefer to follow what got me thinking about this thing in the first place. I was listening to a favorite song from childhood that involves a brief, carnival-sounding, calliope-like instrumental break. I’m not sure if an actual calliope was used in the recording of this instrumental break, but it has that sound, that rhythm, and those clusters of notes that suggest clowns; rickety amusement rides; the smell of sawdust, animal droppings, and cotton candy; and parents looking like they’re questioning whether they did the right thing by bringing the kids to this place.
Along with the song that came on my iPod tonight, I thought of one other song that features a definite carnival-style, calliope-like break. It’s also a song I was fascinated by as a kid, yet it doesn’t hold up as well as the first one I thought of tonight. Beside those two songs, I strongly doubt that there are more than two or three other examples of this device. BEWARE:
If anyone has a deeper connection, feel free to share your thoughts on Pete Seeger, who died today at 94. I’ve never been a folkie, but I thought he was cool—for a folkie and way beyond. Reading about him this morning I was reminded of a third song my dad loved: “If I Had a Hammer.” Carpentry was my dad’s passion. It was his force for good. He’d play me that song and prompt me to sing along. It was nice. There’s another nice member I can carry with me from that man. Thanks, Pete.
I didn’t watch a lick of the GRAMMYS last night, but I just glanced at a clip from last night’s broadcast. With Awards Season underway and February just a few days away, YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, right? YOU KNOW WHAT THE MONTH OF FEBRUARY IS ALL ABOUT, don’t you?
Anyhow, did I miss anything?
Tymon Dogg (violin), Joe Strummer and The 101’ers.
Did anyone outside the London squatter and tube station busking scene of the 1970s know who Tymon Dogg was before he appeared as guest bandleader on The Clash’s Sandinista, where he sings and fiddles his way through one of the 3-album set’s most-challenging long songs? The vibrato on Dogg’s voice makes Feargal Sharkey’s voice sound straighter than John Wayne.
Listening to the previously unknown Dogg take his best shot on a major-label release this morning I started thinking about other unknown or cult artists who were dragged into the spotlight on a major artist’s record. The Clash made a habit of this practice in the latter half of their career. I thought of the English folk singer, Roy Harper, who no one in America (at least) had ever heard of prior to getting called in to sing lead on Pink Floyd’s “Have a Cigar.” Was he well known in England when he got the call (and before Led Zeppelin name-checked him)? At the risk of exposing myself as grossly ignorant, has anyone heard Roy Harper sing beside the moment the Floyd invited him to shine on like a crazy diamond?
Surely there are many other cult and unknown artists who’ve gotten their big chance in the spotlight? Who stands out for you? Are there interesting circumstances behind this person’s sudden appearance on the big stage? Did anyone grab that moment and explode onto the scene as a star in his or her own right?
Peter Tork, mid-period Monkees persona.
Q: If you could throw a snowball at any member of The Monkees, who would it be?
A: Tork — his Monkees persona is really irritating in the later seasons
In a recent Dugout Chatter, Townsman hrrundivbakshi‘s answer to the above question brought to light a key rock ‘n roll topic that somehow has eluded public discussion…until now.
