Currently under construction.

When rock duo Pets recorded their first album Pick Up Your Feet (2006), Derek Fieth and Allison Jones came by their signature sound by playing guitars in unison while letting a drum machine fill in the beats. Despite their minimalist approach, Pets managed to create a soundscape of Spectorian proportions with the addition of keyboards and electronic effects. "Pushy" gets things off to a lively start with Derek mumbling about his girl's aggressive nature while Allison eggs him on by screaming the album's title over and over. And from that point on, the production work by the band and Doug Godsey is damn near insane! A consistent barrage of noises bounce around and sweep through like a monstrous mosquito while other moments are accented with shimmering echoes. As a vocalist, Allison is a force to be reckoned with, exploding with "SET TO ATTACK!" to kick off the album's second track "Meatbee" (which, not coincidentally, is another name for the hostile yellowjacket wasp). On tunes like "Backseat," "Coldhouse," and "Be My Friend," she yelps and chants and often sounds as though she's on the verge of hysteria. Derek, on the other hand, has a much more laid-back demeanor on songs like "Pretty" and "Give You a Ride." And when the two engage in a round of call-and-response, there's something undeniably sexy about the way they play off each other. I have to admit the two tracks in the middle that don't feature a lead vocal by either member of the band aren't as engaging to me as the ones before and after, but they still feel as though they belong thanks to the clever segueways and sequencing. The focus is clearly on sound dynamics and how this music makes you feel rather than how it makes you think. Sex, dancing, and generally having a good time with the one you love is primarily what matters here, and I can state from firsthand experience that they've succeeded admirably in inspiring that credo. The album closes with a near-instrumental track during which Derek and Allison's voices faintly rise up in the distance as it progresses. It's a nicely subdued ending for a record that can really get your heart pumping and feet moving.

Quite frankly, I was a bit confused the first time I listened to the follow-up album, Ready the Rifles (2010). Pick Up Your Feet split the vocal duties evenly between Pets' two members, but Ready the Rifles is basically Derek's moment in the spotlight with Allison literally in the backseat. She has only one lead here on "Switchblade" and just provides background and harmony vocals on some of the other tracks. Since Allison injected a welcome dose of adrenalin to many of the first album's songs, I wasn't quite prepared for her relative absence the second time around. Another unexpected development involves the general sound of the recording, which is considerably more relaxed and conventional compared to Pets' first outing. (Also different: Ira Skinner adds a more human touch on the drums and serves as an unofficial third member.) Having spent more time with Ready the Rifles and allowing my initial expectations to gradually fade away, I can now assess it on its own merits. What this album lacks in visceral impact, it makes up for with simple and engaging pop songs that'll remind you of The Vaselines ("Lost in There") and The Jesus and Mary Chain, who serve as ground zero for the majority of Derek's more melodic material. Stripping away most of the sonic jewelry has allowed for a more streamlined sound that lets the hooks dominate more readily. As with Pick Up Your Feet, the lyrics here are pretty basic and are mostly present to hang the infectious rhythms on. The following lines from "Clever is Whatever" seem to suggest that physical satifaction is still a priority: "The last thing I'm trying to do is to seem smart to you / The furthest thing from my mind is what goes on inside your brain."  But with persistent references to guns (naturally) and breaking hearts, there seems to be more going on below the surface for this second go-around. And when Allison does chime in from time to time, there'll be no doubting that this is a Pets album. Granted, it'll have quite a few older fans like myself scratching their heads during its maiden voyage, but stick with it and I think it'll begin to shine as a low-key gem over time.

Bonus fun fact - Pets have been nominated for SAMMIE Awards in no less than five different categories in just as many years: Electronic, Rock, Pop, Indie, and Post-Punk. Stay tuned to see how they'll be classified in the near future!

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You can find Pets' Pick Up Your Feet for sale here.

Since PopMatters has let the link go dark, here's my 2006 interview about the process of writing the 33 1/3 book about Neutral Milk Hotel's wonderful album "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea."

Continuum's Cover Lit: The 33 1/3 Series
Riding a Comet's Flame: An Interview with Kim Cooper
[7 April 2006]

"In him not being interviewed he becomes the center of the book, but he would be anyway." Kim Cooper speaks to PopMatters about the musical friendships that gave rise to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Jeff Mangum's reluctance to publicly speak about the band, and the difficulties of portraying people and music with words.

by Anne K. Yoder

No stranger to music criticism, Kim Cooper has been the reigning editrix of Scram Magazine for the past 14 years and has also co-edited a book of overlooked albums, entitled Lost in the Grooves. A self-proclaimed "sixties and bubblegum" gal, Cooper admits that she was an unlikely candidate to pen the tale behind In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Not identifying as an indie rocker allowed her to cast a wider net when delving into the band's history, and she emerged not just another critic preaching to the choir. Instead she turns out a story that charts the strength of friendships, a way of life through music, and the forces which culminated in Aeroplane. She admits she felt like Neutral Milk Hotel's Boswell while writing the definitive book, the first to be published about the band. Kim Cooper spoke to PopMatters about the musical friendships that gave rise to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Jeff Mangum's reluctance to publicly speak about the band, and the difficulties of portraying people and music with words.

PM: More than just chronicling In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, your book attempts to document the formation and gestation of Neutral Milk Hotel, and to show the relationships and circumstances that made it possible for Jeff Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel to create the album. What was it that made you decide to tackle the album from this perspective?

KC: Realizing as I talked to people that everybody felt like they had contributed to it. The first interview we did was with Robert Schneider, and he blew my mind cause I suddenly realized -- oh my God, this is the fifth Neutral Milk Hotel member. I mean he called himself that. He's this wonderful blend of, he's incredibly confident but he's also self-effacing so he doesn't come off as arrogant, it just seems very sincere, and he made that first album, it was pretty much, he was the filter who helped Jeff bring to life what was inside of him. And by the time the band showed up the second time around to do Aeroplane, the whole dynamic had changed. And it wasn't just the two of them working as they had their whole lives, just trying to refine their personalities and their art, there were suddenly three new people along for the ride, just trying to understand where Robert fit in. And that just kind of highlighted that the relationships were -- understanding the relationships was essential to understanding the albums and figuring out what role everybody played and how they helped each other do their best.

PM: The book really focuses on the relationships between the musicians and the musical community that Neutral Milk Hotel was a part of and how they relocated and at each place they brought people together. And so from talking to the members of Elephant 6 and Neutral Milk Hotel, what's your take on the relationship between the communities they generated and the genesis of the album?

KC: I don't think the album would've existed if the community hadn't been so strong. I think Jeff could've written those songs without having the band, and I think he could've gone to Robert and he could've recorded that album, but it wouldn't have sounded anything like it sounds. Cause you've got this almost free jazz drummer, you have this self -- well, not exactly self-taught -- you know I don't want to say that Scott Spillane is not a trained horn player, he is, but that's not what his training is on, the things he played on on the album, you know he's more of a high school marching band guy, but he's got the willingness to go down into the basement and come up with these amazing arrangements with Robert that just sound so timeless and lost and Julian with the saw and the lute, and you know it's just every single person brought to it this kind of vibrant dreamlike beauty ... You know, there are people who love On Avery Island more.

PM: I don't know if I've met many, though.

KC: I've looked around on the message boards though. I think it's a bit perverse to do that, I mean they're both great records, but Aeroplane is just so stunning. And it reminds me a bit of Forever Changes by Love, where they're beautiful songs but the orchestration is so incredible that somehow they're more powerful.

PM: In the book, you make a conscious effort to steer clear of overanalyzing the album and its music and meanings. What was your vision of what you did and didn't want the book to be?

KC: I didn't want it to be an autopsy. I didn't want anybody to feel like having read what some critic know-it-all had to say about the meaning of the songs, that they would never be able to listen to the record again without thinking of some cockamamie theory. I mean, I have an academic background, I have an M.A. in art history, I certainly know how to take things apart and be a good little postmodernist. But I don't think art needs that. I'm much more interested in how this thing came into existence and the influence that it had, rather than shining a light on every little nook and cranny of the creation itself. Because I think that to every person who listens to it, it has its own meaning. And if it doesn't -- what's the point, you aren't going to read a book about it, and if it does, I think it would take some value away. I think you can tell some people things that they don't know about the record that will increase its interest for them, without spoiling it.

PM: It almost seems like Jeff Mangum's reluctance to talk about it steers away from overanalysis, in a sense.

KC: I think his writing is very much automatic writing, like spiritual writing. From the descriptions of how he wrote songs, just repeating phrases over and over again and banging on the guitar and looping, you know I think he wrote it in a semi-hypnotic state and he knows where some imagery came from, but I think other things just come out of the sound or out some sort of connection with the vast, creative universe. You know, how can you dissect it? You can't. I think if he, as a songwriter, started doing that he would probably be worried that he would lose the ability to tap in.

PM: It seems that so many of the people who were in the band and associated with the band are forthcoming about their involvement and are willing, and even enthusiastic to talk to you about the experience -- everyone except for Jeff Mangum, whose absence is somewhat palpable, as he is the central figure in the band and behind the music. Why do you think he mostly refuses to speak about Neutral Milk Hotel and his music in general?

KC: I think there's a lot of factors. I don't speak for him, but I think all that Laura Carter said about him as a rock-and-roll myth as someone who disappears and comes back and blows peoples' minds is interesting. And I think it was a difficult time for him when the band broke up, and that was before he really had a chance to process the album and the way people reacted to it. I think that as a person it's probably a difficult thing to try to wrap your mind around, and people have been inappropriate in approaching him before. I mean I think he's a person who's drawn a little wall around himself, for whatever reason. He's not a recluse. He goes out to shows, he's been performing lately.

PM: Did you try to contact Jeff Mangum?

KC: Yeah, I spoke to him. We had an off-the-record conversation and we would e-mail back and forth. I think that's what opened the door for me to talk to everyone else is was that I talked to him first. And then his friends, I suspect, talked to him, because people were very nice and very welcoming.

PM: When I said his absence is palpable it isn't so much that you can feel it in the book per se. It isn't like a vacancy that isn't filled, it's just that while the book is essentially about Jeff Mangum, his point of view is noticeably absent.

KC: In him not being interviewed he becomes the center of the book, but he would be anyway. It's a little strange and of course we'd all be interested in what he remembered because he was as much a part of it as anyone else. But it is so charged and people are so fascinated with him, it's kind of impossible for him to just give a normal interview. You know, he kind of becomes bigger than it is no matter what he or I try to do about it. On one level I was glad he didn't talk to me on the record. I mean I think we were both struggling with it and how to handle it. It would've been a much harder book to write, I think, if I had had his voice, just because I would've been very conscious of every word. You know Julian is so powerful in the book, he's such a compelling speaker on the power of music to change lives. We went over his copy together and there were things that he wasn't comfortable with. I mean he was very aware of how people would react to what he was saying, and I think Jeff even more so.

PM: When you first heard the album, did it have an overpowering effect on you?

KC: Yeah, since 1993, I've basically been sent hundreds of records a month. And it's very, very rare that something gets to me like that. I don't like much indie-type rock. And you know, I just felt like it was very haunting, very powerful, and weird and unpredictable and I could listen to it over and over again. I mean I've loved it since it came out. I don't listen to it a lot, probably since it's like taking a punch to the gut every time. But it's beautiful. It's one of my favorites.

PM: I think that you don't write about indie music a lot gives you a more interesting perspective than if you did.

KC: I hope so. I hope I can put it in context. Not within its immediate context, but within a broader one. Because when I was thinking of what to write about, I wasn't thinking about other bands as much as I was thinking about surrealists and early nineteenth-century fantastical illustration, and fairy tales. I mean I didn't feel like this was as much a rock 'n' roll story as much as it was just the history of the fantastic in literature and art. And I could've gone in that direction, but it probably would've been too academic. Like I had all these fairy tales analyses I was trying to hash together about children lost in the woods and siblings.

PM: So what's the feeling that you get from talking to the people who're involved with the album, does anyone still harbor hopes that Neutral Milk Hotel will reunite, or are they hopeful that Jeff Mangum will start recording new songs again?

KC: Everybody says it could happen. They're like, "Oh, it might happen, it might not." I don't think any door is shut. But it's not like it's going to happen. And… have you ever tried to get a really shy cat to come out and let you pet it? And you kind of have to look away and pretend you're not interested? I think it's a little like that. Like OK, don't get too excited when Jeff gets up and sings or you aren't going to see him for a while. It'd be great, but at the same time, if they made a big deal about it and played a festival it would be such a big deal.

PM: Right, it would be.

KC: And I hope it doesn't take the fun away.

PM: I get a sense from reading the book that everything kind of just comes together for the band because it does and it isn't as though there's so much forethought -- there is with the music to some extent -- but somehow things just magically come together.

KC: Yeah, and there's just a lot of trust -- [they're able to say] OK, well it's good work, let's make it happen -- and learning as they go. And you know, I didn't go into what Laura does now, but you know she's involved in this kind of off-the-grid-community out on the edge of Athens where they took over the old Girl Scout camp and they're building houses and kind of communal living and cooking quarters. I think that's just an extension of what the band was like. It's a kind of way of using a little bit from everybody in order to have something better than any individuals could have by themselves.

PM: In the book you compare and contrast Jeff Mangum to Kurt Cobain, in the sense that Kurt Cobain didn't know that he could just step down when Nirvana became too big of a band for him to really handle it, when it became more than what he wanted.

KC: You know, it's an enormous amount of pressure. I mean I don't know why they toured so relentlessly, I don't know if Merge set that up or if it was the band really wanting to do it. But it obviously was very physically hard on Jeff. Because he was super sick when he got home. And I think that's the biggest influence on all of this was that he was just too sick. And that's the main reason, you can't do anything when you're that ill. He's gone on the record as saying that he had both hepatitis and mono at the same time. Can you imagine? I mean, are you going to consider your career, or are you just going to crash? I mean I've had mono, that's bad enough. So you know, then it's a couple years later, he was better, he looks back, and it's like, what the hell happened?... Life moves on.

Once upon a time, Tower Records was the place to go for aural satisfaction throughout much of the world and was an important part of my life beyond my own overwhelming love for music. I worked for Tower for twelve years at the chain's first store in Sacramento and then for nine more at the company's corporate office before it fell victim to changing trends in technology. Without Tower as the predominant music retailer, independent stores like The Beat and Dimple ruled Sacramento by default. Tower founder Russ Solomon tried to make a modest comeback with R5 Records in a location where one of his famous stores once stood, but it came and went after a few years of struggling to make a profit. R5's demise freed things up for former employee Dal Basi (who had also been a longtime Tower buyer) to start his own store with the help of partner Nicholas Lujan. Located on K Street in the heart of Midtown Sac, the small shop holds quite an impressive collection of great titles. Their emphasis is decidedly on vinyl, which reportedly has had a very healthy market in recent years, and they've always got something pretty cool spinning on a turntable. Still, I'll admit I've never looked back once I began collecting CDs, so I was eager to see what they had waiting for me in that format. Within a minute of browsing on the store's opening day, I found about five discs I was interested in buying! Granted, the limited selection means you likely won't be successful if you're seeking something in particular, but anyone who's serious about music in general will almost certainly leave with an unexpected treasure or two. During my initial visit, I was surprised to find a bootleg collection of demos by The Screamers, a legendary L.A. punk band that failed to release a proper album before they prematurely broke up. I've also purchased terrific stuff by Pylon, Neko Case, Suede, Devo, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, U2, The Louvin Brothers, The Vaselines, Pere Ubu, Galaxie 500, The Replacements, Annie Lennox, The Lemonheads, The Strokes, Simply Red, The Pooh Sticks, Bettie Serveert, and Sacramento's own Ricky Berger. I was also offered a free mixed CD of power pop that Dal was cool enough to throw together for early bird customers, and unlike The Beat (which has admittedly gotten a lot of business from me over the years), Phono Select's used CDs are reasonably priced and can go for as low as three bucks. The cozy size of the store makes it a comfortable place to hang out and chat with the guys, and if there's anything you want that you just can't find anywhere else in town, Dal or Nich will gladly order it for you if it's available.

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For more information about Phono Select, please go here.

I've been procrastinating for the better part of a year, but I'm finally ready to announce that I'm head over heels for Natalie Gordon, the extraordinarily talented singer, songwriter, and guitarist for Sacramento's Agent Ribbons. She's so damn groovy and gorgeous that she almost instantly became my local celebrity crush the first time I had an opportunity to watch her do her thing. Here, take a gander and you'll see what I mean:

Yeah, she's a doll alright, but you ain't gonna hear her music just by staring at her. That's why I'm here to let you know that Agent Ribbons' debut release On Time Travel and Romance has given Sacramento another reason to be proud of its homegrown musicians. It all began when Natalie befriended Lauren Hess in a downtown used record store (which happens to be the very same store featured on the cover of DJ Shadow's magnum opus Entroducing . . . )  This meeting of minds gave Natalie a renewed interest in her musical ambitions and inspired her to form a band (à la Art Brut) with Lauren sitting in on drums. Agent Ribbons has a decidedly retro sound thanks to Natalie's focus on vaudeville, cabaret, and blues traditions in her songs, but she still manages to put a contemporary spin on everything she touches. Writing stories about looking for love after death and running off to join the circus, Natalie has a talent for dishing out the whimsy without ever sounding overly cute.  And her vocal on "Birds and Bees" is so hypnotically sensuous that it's become a permanent fixture on my profile on MySpace. I particularly like how Agent Ribbons' DIY discipline extended to recording the album. They've admitted that they just wanted to take a batch of Natalie's terrific songs and bang 'em out without much thought of what they would sound like. They weren't very proficient on their instruments at the time, but they figured out how to compensate by creating a signature sound that supported their material but didn't overstep their reach. Natalie's vocals are up front and center, her tunes are simple but instantly memorable, and the chemistry she shared with Lauren is quite apparent since there's very little else competing for attention. A classic album, as far as I'm concerned.

Their follow-up, Chateau Crone, might possibly be a classic as well, but it's definitely another creature altogether. With a much fuller palette and considerably more ambition on display, I was quite impressed with how much work they put into this one compared to the first. I have to admit I was pretty surprised when I finally heard the leadoff song "I'm Alright" up close rather than from a distance. (I'd heard it in a park as Sacramento concert promoter and Agent Ribbons groupie Jerry Perry played the new album repeatedly at a chalk art festival I was involved with.) Not exactly what I expected to hear from the ladies, but it sounds like they were born for it. Absolutely rockin' and yet so damn smooth . . . . a hit single floating in from a much cooler time and place! What follows is generally more familiar for those accustomed to their older stuff, but with newest member Naomi Cherie adding violin and cello to the mix as well as the addition of background vocals and fancy effects, it does give them sort of a "Wall of Sound" compared to the minimal accompaniment they established before. That means you're gonna have to listen to it a few times before it really starts to sink in, but it's certainly worth the extra time it takes to sort it all out. Natalie's vocals are more subdued and less quirky this time, but she still sounds fabulous. She seems to be haunted by the ghost of Roy Orbison in "I Was Born to Sing Sad Songs," which is one of the most majestically melancholic ballads I've heard in quite some time. The album ends with popular concert favorite "Wood Lead Rubber," but Naomi's violin runs certainly add a thrilling dynamic not present in their live renditions when Natalie and Lauren performed it as a duo.

Sadly, the ladies weren't able to make ends meet in their hometown and moved to Austin in March 2010 with the hope of greater success. Naomi unexpectedly left the band during a national tour, but Agent Ribbons bounced back with a BUST Magazine interview a few months later. Let's hope the next few years bring more ups than downs for this wonderfully talented pair of ladies.

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You can find Agent Ribbons' On Time Travel and Romance for sale here.

Best of 2009

New Stuff

Telekinesis! (self-titled) Irresistible power pop, “Coast of Carolina” an instant classic.

The Soundcarriers-Harmonium Soft and breezy with a little electronica thrown in, something like Stereolab/Broadcast but with a more direct nod to soft psych from the ‘60s.

Jah Wobble-"Get Carter" (single) Anyone who knows me knows why I’m interested in this. But, Ted Lewis connections aside, this is an inspired interpretation of a timeless movie theme.

The Flaming Lips-Embryonic A mood-driven record where the overall feel is the point, rather than individual songs; it’s the Lips doing Prog, and they do it in masterly form.

The Clientele-Bonfires on the Heath The same kind of majestic, lush psychedelia that had our jaws dropping when Suburban Light came out nine years ago.

The Raveonettes-In and Out of Control Ramones songs told as ghost stories. This record is both throwaway and brilliant; gets better with each listen.

Reissues and Compilations

New Dawn-There’s a New Dawn Lost classic from 1970 out of the Pacific Northwest. Pothead lyrics and fuzzed-out guitar.

Emitt Rhodes-The Emitt Rhodes Recordings (1969-73) Rhodes is one of the great unheralded songwriters in pop music history; these four albums are gems showcasing sparkling power pop and gentle psychedelia.

The Apples in Stereo-#1 Hits Explosion 16 choices tracks from the Apples recorded output up to this point. Makes you want to do cartwheels while singing along.

Roy Loney & The Phantom Movers-A Hundred Miles an Hour 1978-1989 The one-time Flamin’ Groovies frontman kept the Groovies’ greasy, rockin’ spirit alive with the series of records he made after leaving them.

Spirit-Fresh From the Time Coast: The Best of 1968-77 One of the most innovative bands on the late ‘60s SoCal scene, Randy California and friends continued to make compelling, jazz- and folk-tinged psych into the late ‘70s.

Big Star-Keep an Eye on the Sky A four-CD treasure of recordings done by one of the most influential bands ever. All the stuff from the three main albums, yes, but also a stunning live show from ’73, a handful of revelatory pre-Big Star sessions, and alternate versions that are actually worth hearing.

Nirvana-Live at Reading A great band playing live when at their very peak.

The Paupers-Magic People Psychedelic folk rock from Toronto, 1967. Part Beau Brummels, part Buffalo Springfield, part Lovin’ Spoonful.

Funkadelic-Standing on the Verge (Best Of) Faultess, one-disc best of Funkadelic that covers their full output, 1969-79, early acid rock to later acid disco.

T. Rex-Spaceball (The American Radio Sessions) T. Rex doing spots on American radio, 1971-2.

Best New Album: The Raveonettes-In and Out of Control

Best Reissue: Emitt Rhodes-The Emitt Rhodes Recordings

Best Compilation: (Two-Way Tie) Big Star-Keep an Eye on the Sky; Spirit-Fresh From the Time Coast (Best of 1968-77)

In early 1980, all must have seemed right in the world of Hilly Michaels.

The New York-based session drummer had a major label record deal with Warner Brothers Records, a top-flight producer in Roy Thomas Baker, and bunch of favorable press coverage about his hot debut album “Calling All Girls.” Best of all, though, was the album itself, which was an effort that actually lived up to its hype and delivered the kind of hook-filled pop songs that other artists could only dream about writing.

But one thing went wrong one the way to bubblegum bliss for the curly-topped drummer-turned-singer. Nobody was going into the record stores to buy the dang album. A few years earlier, Nigel Olsson (“Dancing Shoes”) had successfully made the transition from drummer to singer. So why not Hilly?

There’s probably no single, big reason. Just lots of little ones. The album was released during a period of post-Knack new wave backlash (which would end, but not until 1983). Then there were Michaels’ songs: They may have been a bit too quirky and ironic for the American pop scene then. It would take MTV to bring quirkiness back into pop music a few years later. Ironically, Michaels released a video for the title track which was a vivid cartoon scenario that would have probably caught on had it been released a few years later, when bands like A-Ha were expanding the boundaries of music videos.

Either way, the LP was terrific then and holds up now. It’s filled with jangly, electronic power pop that had critics – and Michaels himself – calling it “fun,” “lightweight,” and “bubblegum.” Well, on the surface, maybe. But like a lot of great bubblegum, the tunes have a neurotic edge that plays off the upbeat music and makes them compelling.

Take the title track. It’s a fast-paced, synth-driven shout-out to women around that world that seems at first blush like an update of Eugene Church’s “Pretty Girls Everywhere.” But lend an ear to the lyrics and they reveal Michaels as an “unhappy” bachelor with all the time and money in the world and no one to spend it on (kind of like the movie “Arthur”).

Other songs also mix melody ’n’ melancholy. “Teenage Days” sure is funny in its depiction of skipping school assemblies, but Michaels reveals his nostalgic bent with the line “all good things must come to an end.” Didn’t Allen Ginsberg call nostalgia a form of depression? In “Shake It and Dance,” Michaels’ girlfriend is too busy shaing her booty to visit lovers’ lane with the poor dude. “Something on Your Mind” (featured in the film “Caddyshack”), finds Michaels pleading with his lover to find out why she’s upset as an oddball, operatic backup chorus trills along.

What makes this music really engaging is the dissonance between lyrics such as these and the hyped up arrangements, which could be described as the Cars on speed (Cars keyboardist Greg Hawkes even puts in an appearance). A very motley cast of musicians plays on the album, including Liza Minelli, her stepsister Lorna Luft, actor-singer Ellen Foley, “Saturday Night Live” guitarist G.E. Smith and rocker-turned-disco-dude Dan Hartman (who Michael had once played drums for). Producer Baker makes the album snap, crackle and pop with his usual bag of tricks: Compressed drums, massed backing vocals, and lots of high and low frequencies, but little midrange.

In 1981, just as “Calling All Girls” was filling the cut-out bins, Michaels released a follow-up called “Lumia.” There was so little distribution of this LP that I’ve never even seen it (if someone has it, let me know!). After that, Michaels disappeared back to where ever session musicians go.

Hilly Michael’s two LPs are both out of print, but “Calling All Girls” can be easily found at used record shops.

Lightning doesn’t usually strike twice. So it’s no surprise that when rock impresario Kim Fowley tried to replicate the success of his all-girl band The Runaways with another all-girl ensemble, the results fizzled instead of sizzled.

That’s a shame because the group in question, The Orchids, released a pretty good album in 1980. The self-titled release eschews The Runaways overdrive sound in favor of girl-group melodicism and snappy new wave tempos. Producer Fowley (who also takes credit as “director”) wrote or co-wrote almost all the songs on this LP, and while there are no flashes of brilliance, it’s consistently listenable and enjoyable.

Lead vocalist Jan King (not the author of the same name!) shows a lot of range, coasting through the ballads, rockers and mid-tempo numbers with ease.

A few years after The Orchids came and went, several all-women bands like The Go-Go's and The Bangles reaped lots of commercial success with similar sounds.

The Orchids LP doesn’t touch the best work of either of those bands, but is definitely worth hearing, especially if you’re a fan of obscure new wave acts.

The Orchids was released on MCA Records as MCA-3235 and is unavailable on CD.

Actor James Spader is well known – beloved even – for the deliciously wicked bad guy roles he played in such movies as “Pretty in Pink,” “Sex, Lies & Videotape,” and “Less Than Zero.” On the small screen, he’s earned Emmy Awards for his work on “The Practice” and “Boston Legal.”

But it’s not Mr. Spader’s memorable roles as a Yuppie-with-a-heart-of-tin that concerns us here. It’s James’ singing career.

“Singing career,” I can hear you all saying “Why, I didn’t know James Spader was a vocalist!”

Well, Jimmy Spader (as he was originally known) probably doesn’t talk about that part of his oeuvre when he’s making the rounds on “Carson Daly” or “Ellen.” But thanks to cable television, my first encounter with Spader was as an actor who takes a vocal turn in a trashy 1985 teen flick called “Tuff Turf” (which HBO used to show constantly). And thanks to this cool Web site, we can all download an MP3 of the song he sings in that movie right now! (According to the consensus on several Web sites, that’s really Spader singing.)

How does he do? Not bad, actually. His vocal may be somewhat pedestrian, but he doesn’t embarrass himself. Heck, with some more practice, he might have made it as a lounge singer – the type my old Italian relatives used to love and praise with what was their ultimate compliment for any vocalist: “He’s not just a singer – he’s a song styulist.”

The Cannes Film Festival Best Actor award Spader would receive for “Sex, Lies...” was a long four years away when Spader played the role of Morgan Hiller in this “Afterschool Special”-like teen drama. Spader’s character is an upper class white high schooler forced to move to the wrong side of the proverbial when his family hits financial rock bottom (so much for the 1980s being the “boom years!”).

He encounters a bunch of really mean guys, all of whom are mysteriously dressed like the tough street characters in Michael Jackson videos from a few years back. He falls in love with the gang’s girl of the gang, who is named Frankie (perhaps as a tribute to the tragic heroine from the “Frankie and Johnny” folk song).

When one of the bad guys catches Spader messing with Frankie he warns Spader “Keep away from Frankie. She’s my property.” But like a really obsessed graffiti artist (or a deadbeat renter), Spader’s character simply cannot recognize the value of property. So he takes Frankie to some swank party, plops hisself down at a grand piano and croons a Billy Joel-esque ballad called “We Walk the Night ” (or "I Walk the Night" sometimes).

I feel your face

I hear your eyes

I know the nights that you cried, but still we survive

I walk the niiiiight…

For whatever reason, Spader has never reprised “We Walk the Night” on any of his many talk show appearances. But you can check him out singing it in the movie here.