It's New Years Day: Special "Oh No, Not This Stupid Story Again!!!" Edition

[I first posted this one on January 1, 2013, and, while I'm not trying to turn it in into some kind of internet tradition, I do find it amusing enough to give it the old "One More Time!". So sue me. I should add that I'm wishing all you kids the happiest of happy 2026's; please, Flying Spaghetti Monster, make it an improvement on the hell year we've all just lived through. -- S.S.]

This is, as I have been wont to say here on many previous occasions, a very sad story, so please try not to laugh.

It also has a certain relevance to today's festivities, which will be revealed later in the narrative. Please be patient.

Anyway, so the other day I was in a cab heading down the West Side Highway in a snowstorm, and the driver had the radio tuned to whatever soft-rock Lite FM station they inevitably have on when they don't have WINS News Radio blasting or some guy from Queens yelling about sports.

I wasn't particularly paying attention, but suddenly some soft-rock Lite FM staple song came on, and immediately I knew three things.

1. I had definitely heard it before.

2. It was probably from the 70s or the 80s, although I couldn't rule out the possibility that it might have been more recent, and it had that whole California soft-rock vibe, which I usually detest, in spades.

3. I had no idea who the guy or the group singing it was, although I was painfully aware that when and if I found out I was gonna kick myself. Because pretty much everybody in the world, at least of a certain age, would have been able to recognize it instantly.

The truly insidious part was that there was something about the damn thing that grabbed me. Yes, the vocals had that laid-back L.A. Mr. Sensitive shtick that usually makes my gorge rise. But the tune was charming, the voicings of the harmony parts in the chorus were really quite lovely, and -- try as I might to deny it -- it was getting under my skin.

Fortunately, because of the roar of traffic, I couldn't really hear the lyrics, although one word -- "architect" -- jumped out. "Hmm," I thought. "There's a word you don't hear in a pop song everyday."

Anyway, I then went about the rest of my weekend, but I knew with an absolutely dread certainty that I was gonna break down sooner or later and look the song up on the Intertubes.

So, late on Monday, I googled "Soft Rock song with the word architect in it" and up it popped.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...and my fingers are shaking as I type these words....Dan Fogelberg (the horror, the horror!) and his 1980 smash (which I had apparently put out of my mind, probably deliberately, ever since its original vogue) "Same Old Lang Syne."

Well. In case you're wondering, no -- I have no interest in revisiting the rest of Fogelberg's body of work, and yes, I still basically can't stand the whole genre he represents, but goddamn it -- this damn song works and it gets to me. Like I said, it's melodically quite charming, and now that I've actually deciphered the lyrics, it turns out that -- despite a certain smugness that kind of rankles -- they actually make a pretty good little literary narrative vignette.

Sticks in my craw a bit, though.

As I said, this was a very sad story, so please try not to laugh.

I should add that Fogelberg departed this sad vale of tears during the holiday season in 2017. That doesn't excuse him for any of this stuff, but I just thought I'd mention it. 😎

And again, Happy New Year everybody!!! Oh -- and a guaranteed to be fun Weekend Listomania arrives tomorrow. 😎😎

If It Isn't Scottish, It's Crap: Special "PowerPop's Traditional Beach Boys New Year's Eve" Edition

From November 1964, please enjoy the incomparable Brian, Dennis and Carl Wilson, Al Jardine and the humongous dickitude that is Mike Love and an alternte take of their incomparable a cappella rendition (the original's on their Christmas album) of that Scottish New Year's Eve song whose title escapes me.

How they were able to do that without auto-tuning is beyond me. 😎

Coming tomorrow: We revisit a PowerPop New Years Day classic. Okay, perhaps "classic" is too strong a word. 😎😎

Coming Friday: A sure to be entertaining new Weekend Listomania. Okay, perhaps "sure to be" is... 😎😎😎

Tuesday's Cartoon and Photo Chuckles

That's Art Gecko, in case you were wondering. 😎

As seems to be a tradition around here, the classical one is my favorite. 😎 😎

Tales From the Crypt (An Occasional Series): Special "You Know, Some Days I Kinda Miss Seeing XXX Movies in Theaters On the Big Screen" Edition

The short version: I rediscovered this interesting (I think) essay the other day, after a friend remarked on having stumbled across a virgin vinyl copy of the soundtrack album in question. Hadn't thought about either the film or the review in years. (If you have trouble reading, just click on the image to embiggen it.)

And in case you're wondering, the critique originally ran in the December 1980 issue of the Magazine Formerly Known as Stereo Review, and IMHO it holds up pretty well. My memory is that the movie itself really sucked, but I think I nonetheless made a not implausible case for the soundtrack album being at least meh. 😎

I should add that the vinyl edition is long out of print, although if you're among the curious and the kooky, Amazon has some reasonably priced copies available over HERE. To my surprise, the album seems never to have been reissued on CD, which hardly seems a cultural tragedy, however. 😎😎

[h/t Pat Thomas]

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "Your Post-Christmas Lump of Coal" Edition

Okay, while we're all recovering from yesterday's over-eating and drinking, let's get right to business. To wit:

...and the one, single, stand-alone post-Elvis pop/rock/folk/country/r&b/jazz album you dislike (okay, hate) most intensely compared to all others and have since its original release and it's your story and you're sticking with it is...???

Discuss.

Wow -- peace on earth, good will to men, and all that stuff, right? 😎

Long time readers (by which I mean folks who've been around here since 2009, when I originally published the screed excerpted and slightly rewritten in the following paragraphs) will doubtless be able to guess my candidate.

But don't mince words, Steve -- tell us what you really think (thought).

It's official -- I consider David Bowie's Pin Ups to be not only one of the Three All-Time Worst Albums of Rock Cover Versions Ever Made, but also to be among the worst sets of interpretations of any kind of music -- including classical -- in the history of recorded sound.

Okay, that last may be an overstatement, but I stand by the Three Worst Covers Album thing.

(In case you're wondering, the other two are Bryan Ferry's 1973 These Foolish Things and Duran Duran's 1995 Thank You. The former, I think, is an utterly appalling concept record in which Ferry, nitwit that he was, advances the idea that Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall" has something in common artistically with Lesley Gore's "It's My Party" other than the fact that both were originally recorded by sentient mammals. The latter, on the other hand, is merely a sloppy mess in which one of the world's most useless bands pays tribute to its non-roots and tries, unsuccessfully, to convince the world that Simon Le Bon has any business performing a Public Enemy song.)

Anyway, the main reason I so utterly loathe the Bowie album is that the entire attitude it exudes (reeks of, might be a more accurate phrase) is a "Look at Me I'm Wonderful!!!" contempt for the source material. The album, IMHO, is the work of a guy who's convinced that these silly little songs, AND the people who recorded them, are ever so trivial and ridiculous, so thank god that he -- The Greatest Star -- is deigning to give them a little undeserved, reflected, acclaim in his trademark bullshit campy ironic way. Not to mention that the singing is flatout awful; the affectless, emotionless, pretentious pseudo-operatic croon Bowie subjects the songs to is light years removed from the punkish snarl and passion that most of them (with the possible exception of The Mersey's "Sorrow") require.

And just to spread the blame around, let us not forget (actually PLEASE let us forget) Aynsley Dunbar's drumming. Everything he does on the record is overplayed, underlined, and generally reduces the songs to sludge.

Have I mentioned that I hate the goddamn album?

I should add that, believe it or not, I've actually kinda mellowed on Bowie, generally, in my old age. I still can't think of another single album I dislike as much, however. 😎😎

But okay then -- what would YOUR choice be?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!

Hey -- It's Christmas Day!!!

[I've posted a slightly different version of this on several previous Christmases; consider it one of those internet traditions you've heard so much about. -- S.S.]

Ahem. So. Way back in December of 2007 -- when the world, myself and this here blog were young -- I found myself, quite improbably, falling in love.

And the Christmas song I kept hearing in at least two TV commercials at the time was the ineffably touching "All That I Want" by The Weepies.

Which, as it turned out, was, improbably, about the improbability of somehow finding the right person to fall in love with.

Above the rooftops
The full moon dips its golden spoon
I wait on clip clops
Deer might fly
Why not? I met you

All these years later, I still can't hear the thing without getting a little misty, sentimental old fluff that I am. So I thought I'd share it once again...as sort of a Christmas card to you all.

And to a certain Shady Dame,let me just say, and for the record -- I love you, babe. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. 😎

It's Xmas Eve: How Do You Say "An Oldie But a Goodie" in Yiddish?

This is, of course, the traditional holiday music here at Casa Simels.

But please -- don't even ask about the mistletoe. 😎

[h/t George Cullinan]

Tuesday's Cartoon and Photo Chuckles

The Willie and Keith one is sheer genius. 😎

Well, Apparently It's True, God DIDN'T Make The Little Green Apples. Actually, It Was This Guy!

From Australian power pop auteur Dom Mariani, please enjoy the title song of his just released new album -- the wildly infectious ear candy that is "Apple of Life."

Mariani's apparently been doing stuff like the above since the '80s, but I must confess to having been unaware of him until this past weekend, when friend of PowerPop Mark Rosenblatt played the song (after two by the Floor Models -- thanks Mark!) on his radio program, which airs (and streams) every Saturday morning (betwee 10am and Noon) on WPKN-FM 89.5, from Bridgeport Connecticut. You can find out more over at the station's website HERE, and come to think of it they have a very good archive, so you can listen to the most recent show in its entirety.

In any case, that song just slays me, so I'm going to be doing the research on this Mariani guy. I'll keep you posted on what I unearth.

La Fin de La Semaine Essay Question: Special "Double Entendre Help Me Rhonda!” Edition

From somewhere live in 2016, please enjoy the paralytically sexy Pink covering Jefferson Airplane's classic "White Rabbit."

Seriously -- how come none of you bastid kids ever hipped me to that clip before I accidentally discovered it last week?

I should add, and I've said it before and it still behooves repeating, that yes, I have the raving hots for that woman -- who I've never witnessed in concert, alas. Also alas, I know that if we ever, er, actually got together in a carnal sense I wouldn't be able to survive the foreplay, and that's not just because of my current advanced age; if we'd hooked up when I was as young as she is now, she still would have killed me. 😎

But that being said, and with no further ado, it's onward to the weekend's thematically related business. To wit:

...and the contemporary/post-90s/21st century pop/rock/r&b/folk/country solo artist or group you regret not having seen live, and would in fact sell someone near and dear to you to obtain tickets to a forthcoming show if they're still active (the artist, not the person dear to you😎) is...???

Discuss.

No arbitrary rules you're welcome very much, except I'm gonna be strict about the "nothing before the Aughts" thing; this is strictly post-classic-whatever. And if you've read the above you already know who I regret not encountering in person (yet).

Of course, my second pick would be THIS woman, who I also had the hots for. And alas, of course, it was not to be. 😎😎

But in any case -- who is/are YOUR choice(s)?

And have a great weekend, everybody!!!