Hitler Longs for SXSW of Yore

I know the Hitler meme is rubbed in the ground, but this SXSW edition from UrgentGenius is pretty hilarious. Enjoy it now before producers throw down the inevitable cease and desist.

Cloud Nothings "Should've Been"

I'm a sucker for heart-on-sleeve collegiate pop records like this one from Cleveland's Cloud Nothings, who'll be in Austin next week for SXSW. That goes double when it's accompanied by an infectiously cute-and-clever video I can easily appropriate for STD prevention work in my day job. This one is rife with choices and consequences. The rest of Cloud Nothings' self-titled debut is also pretty good if you like this sort of thing.

Soul Clapping on Wall Street

My old guitarist-turned-DJ pal Jonathan Toubin got written up in The Wall Street Journal a couple weeks back for his ever-popular Soul Clap 45 RPM dance parties, which are happening everywhere from Brooklyn to the Bahamas these days. He'll be bringing the Clap to Austin during SXSW, too.

Reporter Andy Beta got most everything right, but there was one curious passage I took issue with.

"I used to DJ records, CDs, mp3s and it never sounded good," Mr. Toubin, who is 39, said a few days after the party, his Texas drawl just breaking his otherwise speedy diction.

Folks, the only way anyone would think they heard a Texas drawl in the banter of Jonathan Toubin is if he spoke with a deliberately affected accent or if he told you he was from Texas and you imagined it.

Photo by Julie Paterson

Here Comes the Chronthlology

In conjunction with the Chron's 30th anniversary this year, UT Press is publishing The Austin Chronicle Music Anthology. This hulking, 314-page ride through Austin music history officially hits the streets a week from today with a big release party at Antone's. Chron music columnist Austin Powell, who co-edited the book with Austin Sound founder Doug Freeman, will reveal the full musical line-up for the party in weekly Off the Record column tomorrow.

UPDATE (3/3/11): The line-up includes Standing Waves, the Skunks, Kathy McCarty, the Gourds, the Crack Pipes, Poi Twang (featuring Twang Twang Shock-a-Boom's David Garza and Poi Dog Pondering's Frank Orrall) and special guest Daniel Johnston. Tickets here.

I'm jazzed about having a smattering of my work in the book. I didn't choose what stuff of mine went in, but I'm glad Austin and Doug used my oral history of Scratch Acid, my 1998 live review of Dale Watson at Ginny's Little Longhorn and my review of the Motards compilation, Stardom, among other things.

Although my opinion is obviously biased, I think Austin and Doug did a remarkably good job with this book. The photography is amazing throughout and the pre-online archive selections from the 80s and early 90s read like opening a window into Austin's past. The late Jeff Whittington's writing is some of the best music writing you'll ever read in Austin or anyplace else. And no one could do hilarious, spot-on snark like Michael Corcoran during his mid-80s run as music columnist.

In pulling together three decades of next week's bird cage liners, Austin and Doug wisely avoided a "definitive history" rubric, instead remaining steadfast to the rambling, tangent-prone vibe that - for better or worse - has traditionally defined the Chron's music coverage. It's a unique way to tell the story - and a very Austin one at that.

How to Make Out

In the wake of Junior Senior's demise following their compelling but largely unheralded 2007 sophomore album, Hey Hey My My Yo Yo (Rykodisc), vocalist Jesper Mortensen migrated from his native Denmark to New York and started Make Out with Leah Hennessey, who just so happens to be David Johansen's step-daughter.

Here's a little herky-jerk bubblegum punk blast called "What U Doing Later" from their debut EP, How To, due Feb. 22 (via PopMatters).

Warm Up with a Hot Bowl of Huey

Apathy Trend, the electrified version of a 90s-era Austin music zine by the same name that could usually be found near the front door of Sound Exchange, posted a short Q&A with the New Drugs today. Many thanks to Chuck Trend for the virtual ink.

We're revving up the Huey Lewis love machine again this Saturday at Ruta Maya alongside Boosy Cray, Serious Tracers and Ichi Ni San Shi, three fine local bands who still play songs they wrote themselves. Doors open at 8 and the good times start rolling at 9.

The Return of Bubble Puppy

I'm excited to hear that Bubble Puppy - 3/4 of the classic line-up, anyway - is reuniting at this year's Austin Music Awards. Although their legacy has long been in the shadows of fellow International Artists like the 13th Floor Elevators and the Red Krayola, "Hot Smoke and Sasafrass" was actually the Houston-based label's best-charting single, clocking in at #14 on the Billboard chart in 1969. Their sole album, A Gathering of Promises, is also worth seeking out.

Back in 2004, I interviewed Bubble Puppy guitarist Todd Potter and drummer David Fore on the occasion of Fuel 2000's rerelease of Promises. Their description of the band's up-and-down history was the stuff of movies. While writing the story, I actually drove over to Riverside Farms Road with Promises on the disc deck and tried to imagine what it was like in 1967, when the band lived and practiced in an old house on that street. To hear Potter and Fore describe it was positively idyllic.

One quick note about that story - the Municipal Auditorium where Bubble Puppy opened for the Who was in San Antonio, not Austin.

And finally, here is a very rare video of the band performing "Hot Smoke and Sasafrass" at an undated reunion show. I'm guessing it's from their mid-80s reunion, but it could be older.

Requiem for Unkgee

Gerry Rafferty, the Scottish-born singer/songwriter who gave us smash 70s hits like "Stuck in the Middle with You" and "Baker Street," died this week at age 63 from liver failure brought about by years of alcoholism.

While most will remember Rafferty for his music, I also remember him as the involuntary linchpin for a "Gerg and Zub's Fast Food Review" of Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits published by the weekly broadsheet 15 Minutes back in 1997.

This occasionally factual review appears below in Rafferty's honor.

I'm Popeye the Chicken Man!
Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits, 1978 Baker Street

Zub and I met when our dads formed the nucleus of the rhythm section behind a pre-"Stuck in the Middle with You" Gerry Rafferty. Gerry was like an uncle to us, hence his nickname "Unkgee." During the summer, our pops would let us traverse the country with the band in a dilapidated custom Chevy van with pot seeds all over the carpet. Those early tours with Unkgee made us wise beyond our three years.

We were also hungry a lot of the time. Our dads' cut of the gig take was even more meager than their share of the cocaine, so we subsisted mostly on crackers and Fresca. This lifestyle never set well with our mothers (whoever they were), but no piss-ant child welfare law was gonna remove Zub and myself from that happy, bouncy van.

One particularly joyful reminiscence of those high times is from 1972 when Unkgee pulled the van into New Orleans for a Tulane University show opening for Johnny Winter. It was raining, and we were cold, but our hearts were quickly warmed by the capacious hospitality of the promoter, a rotund Bossier City-bred cracker by the name of Sergeant Roofus Boudreaux.

To this day, neither Zub nor myself have heard words so sweet as those Sgt. Boudreaux spoke as we struggled to bring my dad's orange bass cabinet in through the back door of the auditorium: "Boys, drop your load and have some chicken!"

The Sgt.'s fried feast was the best darn food we'd ever tasted. Unkgee ate seven pieces of the delicious chicken along with several large handfuls of mashed potatoes and Cajun gravy. In fact, Ol' Unk would have choked to an early death if not for the whack of Zub's dad's hi-hat stand on the back of his fat neck.

"Hey, Roofus," uttered a blue-hued Unkgee. "Where's this good meat come from?"

"Why, I got it over at the Popeye's on Dopholopous Boulevard," said the proud Sgt. "Them spices will grow hairs on places your lady won't like."

Unfortunately, this batter-coated bash was short-lived. During that night's show, Zub's inebriated father played an unscheduled drum solo that went on for about 17 minutes. Immediately after the show, Unkgee fired him from the band. My dad protested by spitting a mouthful of Jax beer in Unkgee's face and calling him an ungrateful bastard. For his insubordination, he too was given the proverbial big pink slip.

Suddenly, us and our pops were shivering out in the smelly New Orleans rain without a song. Somehow, we'd all have to get back home to Worcester. Zub's pop said we could afford to bus it as far as Kentucky, but then we'd have to hitch. Unkgee had sold us right down the line.

The grounds for revenge were obvious even to the young minds of Zub and myself, but our dads could not decide the means from within their collective stupor. At that precise moment, a lightbulb went off in my tiny crown, and I began to shout, "Steal his wheel, Daddy! Steal his wheel!"

Our drunken dads began cackling like sailors. Zub's pop produced some tools, and our two heroes quickly removed the steering wheel from Unkgee's van. The journey home was rough, but every time things looked down, we pulled out that wheel and had ourselves a chuckle.

Of course, it was Unkgee who had the last laugh when "Stuck in the Middle with You" skyrocketed into the Top 10 shortly after this incident. Rubbing salt into the wound was the name of Unkgee's band: Stealers Wheel.

Which brings us back to Popeye's, the place where New Orleans is only a taste away. Sort of.

Popeye's modern chicken variation will never live up to the spice of that faraway evening, but this fried fowl still beats the cluck out of KFC. All fried material at Popeye's (fish, shrimp, onion rings, dogears, fries, etc.) has the same subtle seasoning to it that sneaks up on you like a flashback. And those red beans & rice and whipped potatoes are abused with an adequately Cajun-style gravy that makes other fast food taste vanilla by comparison. As an added bone-us, there's always plenty of Cajun Sparkle on hand to give your grub a bit of zip.

Let's face facts: Popeye's has about the biggest can of culinary whup-ass in the fast food industry, and Zub and I both will spare no measure to open up the aforementioned can on Mr. Gerry Rafferty's weenie-butt if he ever tries to play Sneakers.

Whastsa matter, Unkgee? You chicken?

Oh Christmas, Up Yours!

X-Ray Spex vocalist Poly Styrene and her daughter Celeste sing "Black Christmas" from Styrene's forthcoming solo album, Generation Indigo, due March 2011. A Class of '77 punk rock icon singing a reggae Christmas song with her kid may sound like a novel proposition, but it works.

A Check from John Lennon

I don't have a particularly poignant recollection to share about John Lennon on the 30th anniversary of his murder. But I know someone who does.

Rob Patterson, who was my first editor at the Austin Chronicle, wrote an astute and moving essay for the Huffington Post about the time he received a check from John Lennon. Read it here.

Fave Five Food Deals - 12/8/10

This week's top Austin grocery deals might make you want to pay homage to B-52's vocalist Fred Schneider by screaming, "Let me kiss your PINEAPPLES!"

1. Pineapples, .99/ea. at Newflower (through 12/15/10)

2. Boston butt pork roast, .99/lb. at H-E-B (through 12/14/10)

3. Small Texas red grapefruit, 5 for $1 at H-E-B (through 12/14/10)

4. Romaine, red leaf and green leaf lettuce, .77/ea. at Sun Harvest (through 12/15/10)

5. H-E-B pure cane sugar soft drinks, 12 pack, $1.50 at H-E-B (through 12/14/10)*

*With in-store coupon

Also, pick up a 5 lb. box of Cutie clementine tangerines for just $3.97 at Sun Harvest on Thursday, Dec. 9 and Friday, Dec. 10 only.

Austin supermarket links (directs to weekly ads where available):
El Rancho Supermercado
Fiesta
H-E-B
Natural Grocers
Newflower Farmers Market
Randall's
Sprouts Farmers Market
Sun Harvest
Wheatsville Food Co-Op
Whole Foods Market

I Gotta Dance to Keep from Crying

Want to pick up the latest album from Motown legend and onetime SXSW keynote speaker Smokey Robinson? Then cruise on out to your nearest Cracker Barrel this Monday.

Yes, Cracker Barrel - the same Tennessee-based restaurant-and-country store chain that reportedly paid $8.7 million in 2004 to settle a slew of racial discrimination lawsuits.

“It’s time to change that imagery of Cracker Barrel,” Robinson says. “I’m very happy to be the one breaking that ground with them. It’s progress."

Indeed it is, Smokey. Now all they need to do is hire Harvey Fierstein as a spokesperson to begin patching things up with the gays.

SXSW Getting New Digs

SXSW is getting a new home at 400 W. Bowie St. The 3-story building, now housing an architectural firm, is conveniently sandwiched between the Whole Foods behemoth and the Spring condo tower on the site of the Electric Lounge. This will put SXSW considerably closer to the epicenter of festival-related action in March than their current Hyde Park offices on 41st St.

This is a long, long way from the late 80s, when SXSW was run out of a conference room at the Chronicle's old offices on the corner of 29th and Rio Grande. Not long after that, I remember marveling at the fact they needed an entire ranch-style house (year-round, no less!) to run the fest.

New Drugs and a Boatful of Beards?

Do you have a thing for boats, facial hair and/or Huey Lewis? If so, I can plan your Halloween weekend for you right this instant.

The New Drugs will be playing a benefit to help get the Austin Facial Hair Club's most hirsute hunks to the 2011 World Beard and Moustache Championships in Trondheim, Norway. This benefit will take place Saturday, October 30 at 7:30pm on the good ship Commodore as it motors about the tranquil waters of Lake Austin.

The 3-hour boat trip will set you back $25, but drinks on board are gratis. Advance tix are available online or at Breakaway Records and End of an Ear Records. Act now or start pricing dinghies.

Pixies Drummer Talks to Me

Although I'm not attending the Pixies' two-night Doolittle extravaganza over at the Austin Music Hall, I did interview drummer/magician David Lovering for the Chron a couple weeks back.

It was 9pm here in Austin and noon two days later (or something ridiculous like that) in Brisbane, Queensland when we spoke. I wound up having to edit the transcript considerably, but most of what I cut out was covered in the three near-simultaneous interviews conducted with the other three Pixies.

The only time I've ever seen the Pixies was when they played the ACL Music Festival back in 2005. That was a mob scene, so my pal Kevin Fullerton and I watched most of the show from behind the fenced-off backstage area, enjoying Lovering's monitor mix much more than the muddy sound up front.

KTRU Leaving the Airwaves

The University of Houston Board of Regents voted 4-3 last week to purchase the transmitter and license of Rice University's KTRU 91.7 FM, effectively ending the station's 43-year run as a college radio trailblazer. KTRU will now become KUHC, a 24-hour classical music station, which frees up KUHF, UH's other radio station, to be a 24-hour NPR affiliate. KTRU will live on as an online streaming station, but that's a far cry from broadcasting with a 50,000-watt transmitter.

I first discovered KTRU as an impressionable 12-year-old listening to the S&M Show on Friday night. In 1980, KTRU was the only station in Houston where you were likely to hear anything to the left of "Whip It" on a regular basis. The first time my own music was played on the radio was on KTRU. Having worked as a DJ at UT Austin's student-run KTSB/KVRX in its cable radio infancy, I can authoritatively state that many of us considered KTRU's programming a benchmark to measure ourselves against.

Rice University's leadership shamefully engineered this $9.5 million deal in secret and made sure it went down in the dead of August to avoid the firestorm they knew would ensue if word got out while students were in town. Even so, a hastily assembled group called "Save KTRU" has formed in response.

Although the sale of KTRU to UH is still subject to FCC approval, it's unlikely the feds or anyone else can or will do anything to stop it. According to today's Houston Press, KUHF/KUHC is scheduled to take over KTRU's programming on Monday.

To some, the hue and cry over Rice's off-loading of KTRU may just seem like a bunch of music snobs whining about a station that played weird noise that most people don't listen to. But as someone whose student radio experience helped foster my career path as much as any class, I know there's way more at stake here. Former KTRU DJ Ray Shea sums it up as well as anyone:

KTRU was the driving force that would eventually propel me through six years and two college degrees. My best lifelong friends are all people I met at KTRU. And together we learned about music, about business, about media and promotions and organization and scheduling and budgeting. We learned how to deal with people, how to compromise and reach consensus. Sometimes we didn't learn as well as we should have, but goddammit, we learned.

And somewhere in all that craziness, all those late nights drinking beer and listening to records and arguing about music, we accidentally participated in a movement. A movement that would permanently change the face of the music industry forever.

Rice is short-sightedly gutting a learning laboratory that helped generations of students channel their passion for music and radio into viable skills for business and life. At $9.5 million, they're selling out cheap.

Stuff I Been Writing About

I did a bit of music scribing in this week's Chron, reviewing the latest releases from local pop bands Masonic and Household Names. I also wrote a preview blurb for the 7th Annual North vs. South Music Festival, which is taking place down at the Hole in the Wall as I write (sigh).

I'm still writing event picks for the local Austin and Dallas pages of go2.com, too. So check it out if you're into the whole mobile web brevity thing.

The Bass Line from "The Brady Bunch" End Theme as Rendered by Some Guy in Shorts

Back off, Barney Miller! From Listener Kliph Nesteroff at WFMU's Beware of the Blog, get ready to experience "The Bass Line from The Brady Bunch End Theme as Rendered by Some Guy in Shorts."



The "Guy in Shorts" is actually named Jason Long, and the awesome bass line from The Brady Bunch End Theme was originally performed by the great session bassist Carol Kaye, who also played on the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, Ike and Tina Turner's "River Deep - Mountain High," Tennessee Ernie Ford's "Sixteen Tons" and a bajillion other hit records produced in L.A. during the 60s.

Hot August Shite

Nationally renowned and exquisitely sequined Neil Diamond tribute band the Diamond Smugglers play their only Austin show of the year this Saturday night at Antone's. If you've never witnessed the Smugglers' turn "Longfellow Serenade" into "Long Duck Dong Serenade" - not to mention their versions of wholly inappropriate songs like Nirvana's "Rape Me" delivered in the Diamond brogue - well, now is the time.

As an added bonus, my Huey Lewis and the News cover band the New Drugs fills the spiral slicer slot on this bill.

Disco Demolition Night!

I meant to post this on July 12, which was the 31st anniversary of Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park in Chicago.

By 1979, disco had become a musical trend pushed too far. Hell, even Ethel Merman had a disco album out by then. A nation of disaffected - and, it must be said, overwhelmingly white - rock and rollers took up the rallying cry, "DISCO SUCKS!" You saw it on T-shirts and bumper stickers everywhere. While much of the knee-jerk disdain for disco can legitimately be ascribed to barely latent racism and homophobia, the velvet-rope exclusivity famously epitomized by Studio 54 was fairly deserving of a massive backlash.

Disco Demolition Night was conceived by Chicago DJ Steve Dahl of album-rock station WLUP-FM (a.k.a., "Loop 98") as a promotion to get more fans to come cheer for the then-moribund Chicago White Sox as they took on the Detroit Tigers in a doubleheader. Everyone who brought a disco record to Comiskey Park would gain admission to Comiskey Park for just 98 cents. Between games, the records would be collected and ceremoniously blown up at midfield between games.

What could possibly go wrong with that? Watch this ESPN clip and find out...