This Is Your Song For....May 1st, 2013: Dandy by Los Helldandys

Viva Le Rockabilly!

Happy May Day, Communists!  Here’s some instrumental Mexican rockabilly to celebrate with!

Utilizing my limited Spanish, I can determine that Los Helldandys was founded in 2006 in Tijuana and try to mix their rockabilly with touches of punk, blues and surf.  And in the tradition of surf rock, this is an instrumental, but it’s unmistakable in its fusion of rockabilly twang with the beefier, more heavily countrified twang of some of the traditional Mexican pop.  In particular, there’s a time change that to me seems alien to other forms of rockabilly, as if our musicians decided to shift their attentions.  I’ve always appreciated and been fascinated by how American pop music gets filtered through foreign eyes; looking through the playlist on my Sansa Fuze right now, you’ll see Swedish, French, German and Japanese versions of rockabilly and garage rock.  There is something about how something that was designed to be so uniquely Amurrican becomes warped and altered by a pair of eyes from Somewhere Else that frequently results in something delightful.  Hell, it might be why I became such a devote of second and third wave ska, since the bulk of that is a mutation of the Jamaican original through English and American eyes.

I obtained this song through an episode of the rather cool Portuguese radio show Revolution Rock Radio, although further samples of Los Helldandys’ work can be found at a number of places.

Here's a live video of the band so you can figure out if they're for you.

36 Songs, 36 Days, Day One (2012 Edition): The Siamese Survived by Slim Twig

Can you see me now?

And so we start a new cycle with an overflow, but a smaller one than last year...and a peculiar indie song from Toronto that sounds like it belongs in another era.

Slim Twig is the musician persona of actor Max Turnbull, and said persona seems very heavily rooted in the weird neo-noir music tradition that briefly flowered in the mid-to-late 80's; this song, with its skronking rockabilly melody, mannered vocals and story-song structure all evoke the work of Nick Cave, middle period (Giant-era) Warren Zevon and especially post-Wall of Voodoo Stan Ridgway. Hell, you could see this easily fitting on Ridgway's third, most experimental and problematic album, Partyball, or on one of the albums he recorded as part of the Drywall project. It's quirky and a little off-putting, but also on some level compelling, as if we're listening to the soundtrack to a long-lost spaghetti western we're never going to see.

And I wish I could tell you more, but Turnball's vocals are so overmannered that I can't interpret them clearly. There is certainly a story here about, well, someone called The Siamese surviving something he shouldn't, but beyond that I can't tell you much. What I can tell you is that the EP this song is from, Spit It Twig Volume Two, is still available for free at bandcamp. I wouldn't say Slim Twig is for everyone, but those people who appreciate a vocalist who isn't conventional might get a kick out of him. I will point you to another song on this EP, 'Norma Jean,' which is softer in nuance but no less outre.

No video for this song, but here's one for another song of his, so you can decide if he's for you.

40 Songs, 40 Days (2011 Edition), Day Thirty Three: Chantilly Lace by The Big Bopper

"Auto-what?"

Yes, that song...

There's a reason why this song has endured for so long. I've talked in the past about certain songs that have been so imprinted by their originators, and this is one of them. The way the man originally known as J.P. Richardson keeps sliding between spoken word, conventional singing, and idiosyncratic shouts and noises is very unique in and of itself. Sure, you could argue that all The Bopper was doing was borrowing from then-peers such as Little Richard, but I think what makes this song endure is the simple exuberance in his voice. Listening to it now, I get the impression that this is a guy who was loved being up on stage acting like a goofball--he was apparently a ham in all the best possible ways, someone who gave it his all whether on a record or live.

And the other great thing about this pop song--unlike the so-called pop that we endure on stations such as 'the Now' or Z100, which just goes on and on, twisting itself into all sorts of permutations in an effort to convince you that the thin musical concept it's presenting is worth four or five minutes of your time, this song is done after two minutes. And that's all it deserves; at its core, this is a song about a girl the Bopper is going out with tonight that, you know, he thinks is swell. It's a very basic concept to grab, and the Bopper presents it, let it wiggle a bit for our enjoyment, and ushers it off stage. That's all pop music needs to be. It's the reason I believe, as many pop music aficionados do, that the ideal length for any pop song should be three minutes. I shudder to think what Richardson would have produced in this landscape of autotune and over-the-top epicness; it would most likely be so bloated that I wouldn't be able to stand it.

As it is, this is a little bite size nuggest of pop rock, and that's all it needs to be.

Here's the video!

30 Songs, 30 Days (2011 Edition), Day Twenty One: (I Know You) Shake It by The Elvis Brothers

Okay, we're over the hump...so let's move on with this amazing number by an amazing band you've prolly never heard of.

I first encountered this Illinois trio when they opened up for Big Country during their Crossing Tour at the Roseland Ballroom. They had just released Movin' Up. the first of two albums from Epic subsidiary Portrait, and this was an early date I had with a woman I was involved with briefly. She wore a red dress that night--and oddly enough, the first single off the album was called "Red Dress." I loved pretty much everything about these guys, from their rockabilly-meets-power-pop music to their Retro 50's dress...hell, I may actively have liked this band more than the one we had originally come and seen.

I haunted the record bins of St. Marks Records to uncover vinyl versions of both Movin' Up and, two years later, their follow-up, Adventure Time. And after that...

Nothing. They were dropped by their label after a regime change and that was the last I ever heard of them until recently, when I discovered a blog that posted not only these two long out of print albums, but a third the group made for indie label Recession in 1992.

I wonder why this band never got any bigger. I suspect part of it is because they might have been lumped in with the other Rockabilly Revival bands and--as such--got overshadowed by The Stray Cats and, later, The Reverend Horton Heat. It's a shame, because this is a great, meat and potatoes pop band. "(I Know You) Shake It" may not be a groundbreaking piece of music, but it does successfully capture what made rockabilly so great--a danceable beat, an upbeat set of lyrics and a sheer energy that makes you want to move. That this trio were also able to produce more nuanced work like "City on Fire" only made them all the more valuable.

The three albums that comprise The Elvis Brothers' discography are now ultra-rare...even the two-in-one reissue of Movin' Up and Adventure Time can go for upwards of a hundred used on Amazon.com....but if you go to the excellent blog Power Pop Criminals and know where to look, you might find some samples.

Here's the video made for this song for the Now See This Video EP the Brothers put out...