Volume 22 - Winter 2018

May Your Year be bitter-ful!

Happy and hellish New Year to everyone! I have managed to cull a new set of tunes to begin another year headed toward doom. For whom do these tunes toll?

I am slightly sad to report that there aren't really any glorious gems in this set (with two exceptions). Let's hope that it doesn't portend for a rotten or uneventful 2018. In some ways, maybe we don't want an eventful 2018. 

Let's start right off with the query, Am I Worth It? Is anything worth it? Is the world worthy of saving? The Gimmicks seem to have their answer, in a 12 bar blues format. It's a good starter for this volume, because there are many, many more songs in this set that are blues-based. It gets a little monotonous I know, but hang in there. If you made it though last year, you'll likely make it to 2019. At any rate, Catwalk is another good number even with a guitar twang that never really seems to go anywhere. But, it passes the time.

Voted Most Likely to Be Satanic

I must touch upon Conquer by Ronnie and The Red Caps. Again, not the most unique song but it has a marked intensity. And of course we have to mention that we're talking Ronnie James Dio here. The late, dead, the never coming back, former front man of Black Sabbath. Mr. Padavona may return from the beyond later on. Pay attention!


At some point I will stop apologizing for the mediocrity. Nonetheless, I want to highlight another so-so tune called Four O'clock by The Van-Dells. Aside from being moderately generic, it is notable for the fact that it was recorded near my old college dumping grounds in Camden, New Jersey. Yes, Admiral Wilson Boulevard has been around for a long time and this acetate from the early sixties predates me by about a decade. The Doomsday Clock has moved far from 4pm, ever closer to midnight since those early days.

I wish The Sneaky Pete's had a side band so I could instantaneously crown them the winner for this month contest. Alas, it's just a bunch of guys named Pete. The fantastic Gila Monster Crawl is anything but mediocre. Picture a suave, emerald creature within the depths of Lake Tahoe, arising to his feet to get his woman and do the Twist in the most awkward fashion. Think of the sorrowful sounds of the theremin as the creature's ineptitude and self-consciousness for being a foreigner in a hostile land. The military's coming to whoop his green ass!

The lively number, Party at Vern’s Place was recorded in Berkeley, CA. Vern's place is somewhere in the Berkeley Hills, in the East San Fran Bay Area. Nowadays, Vern is a venture capitalist driving around in his electric Tesla, practicing his survivalist skills. When the shit hits the fan we'll all be coming for you, Vern! 

Vern, honey, where's the Pappy stashed?

Pedro's Shimmy is a crunchy, rockin' number. Good to have a little bit of a Latin flavor in the mix. And while we're at it, why don't we give The Neptunes the crown for the Sidemen Band Name of the Month Contest. Bob is a little bit nervous with ideas that Pedro's shimmy is actually preliminary defensive maneuvers of the rising minority taking over our jobs. What Bob doesn't realize is that the biggest threat to his Caucasian existence is the orange guy in the White House.

and it hurts like...

I think Steve King gives Skip Manning a run for his money when it comes to songs about diabolical dames on Satan is Her Name. First, it's cool, and it is a song about broken hearts and Beelzebub. Second of all, I don't know how I've lived these last 25 years delving into music of the '50s and '60s and have not come across this dark jewel!

Screaming Pt. 1 is 95 seconds of how I feel every time I think about the next 1 to 100 years. Nothing more to say there. Yet, speaking of screeching, The Shin-Diggers' version of The Mummy Walk sure has a mad crowd, like the mop tops are on stage wrapped in toilet paper, driving the girls insane.

So, we end with another diddy arguably about the dark one. Well, in this case we have the privilege of hearing the pipes of Ronnie James Dio again, this time waiting for his lady to come home. It might as well be a teener for the Unspeakable One, as he'd be singing such fare in a decade-or-so's time. Listen for the bell at the end of the song, because it tolls for thee and me.

Hail Him or Her Here!