Blue Ash Song In Film Trailer For New Liv Tyler Movie

Blue Ash’s song “Can’t Get Her Off My Mind” appears at 1:51 of the trailer. It was written by Frank Secich & Bill Bartolin and performed by Blue Ash.”Smother” is a soon to be released
comedy starring Liv Tyler, Dax Shepard
and Diane Keaton.

Here’s the link!

House Of Lilly – Turn Around

House Of Lilly – Turn Around/ Situations –Eurodisc 12805 (1973 French Issue)

House of Lilly were apparently a Swiss band, but Turn Around is a cracking Punk-edged performance that rocks hard without ever falling into Hard Rock histrionics or Prog indulgences. The only slight blemish is the weak organ solo, but the lead guitar that follows is positively blistering. Their use of English language was nothing if not creative…Can’t make it all out but there are witches flying about and the singer proclaims at one point: “I am The Devil and my breath will blow you upâ€Â. His last line ends with: My….. WILL FUCK YOU UP“, but I’m not too sure as to what he was referring to. The B side is OK, but has a flute –go throw it in the lake boy and let’s have more cheese induced delirium!

Click on title for full version of Turn Around


Dear Pop Pals,

Our very good friend
Robert Barry Francos
certainly had lens in hand,
then fingers to keyboard,

to commemorate
none other than
Dave Rave, Shane Faubert, Gary Pig Gold
and Very Special Guests
at the opening of this year's
New York International Pop Overthrow Festival.

You can
Read All About It HERE,

then Be Sure
to check out all the photographic evidence
right THERE !!



Thanks to Duggi, the bass player from Smiley, we now know more about the band and the fascinating fact that they nearly became The Creation Mark IV!
The original review was posted on September 11th 2007, but I have uploaded the tracks again here for convenience sake.

From the man himself, who also sent the Smiley photo.

“Maybe you can make out the name Creation written on floor…We were going to go out as The Creation and adopt their image/music…it all kinda fell apart for Smiley… We signed a 10 year contract with Shel Talmy/ Shelbush organisation, who promised to release two singles per year, but it never happened. While we were playing at Top Ten Club in Hamburg ,a record scout Paul Murphy spotted us and we met with the then music director of BASF in Germany…Ralf Arni (think this right spelling) who wrote the song “Tulips from Amsterdam” (Max Bygraves!!!). They wanted to sign us under a fantastic recording deal (well was then), however The Shel Talmy Organisation wouldn’t let us leave, and we were cast into the wilderness…no recording possibilities…the band decided to make money we would have to change and be a cabaret band, (something I personally hated) so I left the band and they carried on for around another yearâ€Â

Smiley line up: John Ryan -vocals, Billy Fogg – drums, Peter Richardson – Guitar, Robert (Bob) Garner – Guitar, Douglas Dickson –Bass

Click on title for edits of I Know What I Want and Penelope

Thanks Duggi!

Behind the scenes during the creation of a little-read music column…

Yes, people, I am spit-shining the year-end installment of Where’s The Street Team? for Magnet Magazine, and what follows is my original intro. It sucked! My editors served me!! They are in bold!!

I started writing this column in early 2003, making this the fourth year-end installment of Where’s The Street Team?. Nobody celebrates four years of anything, unless it’s sobriety, marriage or a killing spree. It’s not my point to recall the anniversary theme of last issue’s column; it’s my point to state that coming up with a theme inside of a theme for the fourth time can be a little tough. So, with that on the table, I really have no idea what I was thinking when making the following assemblage, other than the fact that all of it happened in 2007. Oh, and I’ve just come to the realization that this intro would have been best saved for the next year-end issue. People actually do seem to make note when things happen perpetually for five years. Happy Holidays. (THIS INTRO DOESN’T REALLY ADD ANYTHING TO THE PIECE… JUST KINDA SPINS ITS WHEELS. WOULD BE BETTER IF IT JUST TOUCHED ON SOME TOPICS BRIEFLY AND MADE SOME QUICK JOKES INSTEAD OF BEING SELF-REFERENTIAL.)

Return From Utrecht (part 3)

Once again, Phew!

Just back from 2 days of walking up and down the huge hall at the Utrecht Record Fair, picking up singles along the way. I Came back with 57 singles, some real cracking discoveries in this lot…

Above you can see a Swedish copy of Son Of My father. Now, I know we had rely on Israel to beat the Russians for a chance to get to the European finals, but we’re not really that bad, or…are we? More probably it was an interesting comment by our Swedish friends on the state of the economy at the time and the three day week.

Here is a rundown of the pick of the bunch. You’re all welcome to make requests for the next reviews and sound clips from this lot…

Hard Horse -Let It Ride

Chris Hodge -We’re On Our Way

Pete Dunton -Making Time ( late Pop/psych number with a great Dave Edmunds production)

House of Lilly -Turn Around (incredible rocking Swiss!!! single from ’73)

Zingara -Mary Lee (pretty horrible first single, nothing like the great Girl Girl Girl)

Trifle -Devil Comin’ (7.45!)

Frame -Keep Those Blues On The Run (good Glam/pop 2-sider)

Blue Rock -Bye Bye Johnny (B side is more interesting)

Left Side -Mamma Mia

Shakane -Birmingham

Spunky Spider -You Won’t ComeYES, FINALLY!!!!

Pat Boone!!!-Little Honda (Pat goes Surf, Terry Melcher/ Bruce Johnston B side)

HMK -Delirious ([Perhaps Gary Holton‘s greatest moment)

The Panics -Superwoman

Santa Maria -Elle (French band from ’71 -absolutely killer fuzzed up psych/Pop B side)

Black Swan -Da Ga De Li Da

Rocky Underground -Groovy

Lemming -Good Morning

Kincade -Jenny Jenny (John Carter)

Edgar Broughton Band -Apache Drop Out ( forgot just how incredibly bizzare and brilliant this is )

Hot Rod Formula -Heavy Chevy (no car noises and a bit too discotheque for me, great sleeve)

Buzz -Mony Mony (the Buzz who did The Rock roller coaster, Great punked out B side)

BoogaLoo Band -Cadillac (The Vince Taylor number, similar to the Renegades‘ arrangement)

Teddy Palmer And The Rumble Band -Teddy Bear (exhuberant Glammed Up version)

Bryan Evans -Hold Tight! (late Glam version of the Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky Mick And Titch number)

6 different Teens singles,!

plus more spares/ upgrades and a few dodgy singles!

Killing Ghosts

When I sit on my couch, if I look to the right, there’s a pile of magazines. The face of the late saxophonist Steve Lacy stares up at me, or somewhat past me, actually, wearing a melancholy expression. It’s the last issue, October, 1996, of Metropolis, a magazine I briefly edited. I remember that issue well; Lacy set up an interview, and I went to his house, somewhere at the end of the Ku’damm, a bit tense at the prospect of talking to this august figure. When I got there, the door was wide open, and there was nobody in the apartment. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I left, not bothering to close the door in case someone would be right back. As it turned out, all was well, after a fashion; Lacy’s wife had stalked out after an argument and he’d rushed off — to Paris — to talk with her, in such a hurry he hadn’t even bothered to close the door to the apartment. The housekeeper took care of that, eventually, and a few days later Lacy and I sat down and did a pretty nice interview. With the cover story done, we did the rest of the magazine and went to press.

Of course, it’s the nature of monthly magazines that once one is done, it’s time for the next one, and so I called an editorial meeting at the office for the usual time. Coming home from my radio show late one evening, for some reason I decided to check my e-mail, and there was one from one of the writers telling me that the meeting had been cancelled (hello? I thought I was the editor…) because the owners were folding the magazine.

I had only moved into this place a week previously and was happy because it was a block from the magazine, and a couple of blocks from where the radio station was rumored to be moving. Back then, the neighborhood was extremely exciting, filled with top-notch galleries, hidden spaces where illegal bars thrived, and surprises of all sorts. But…the magazine, dead? It had just started to make money! Surely Zitty, who owned it, wanted it kept alive to see if the trend continued.

But they didn’t. I got the word out that we’d have a meeting anyway, and figure out what to do, and in short order, we had a plan. A magazine tied to a website tied to a media bureau, each module synergistically reinforcing the other. Now all we needed was a business plan and some money.

Thus began a three-year roller-coaster ride. I had my radio show three times a week, I had a regular freelance gig as the regional cultural reporter for the Wall Street Journal Europe, and I had this project for those few moments I had left. I made a bucket of new friends, had a couple of love affairs, wrote some nice stuff, saw a load of art and heard tons of music. I watched the neighborhood grow and prosper, had dinner with officials from the American Embassy, travelled to places I never thought I’d see (like Bulgaria), and realized I was very lucky to be in Berlin right then.

And then it ended. The signs were in the air: there were people in the company we’d started who had just shown up and taken over various functions without being asked. Since we didn’t have any money, we couldn’t fire them, and if they could get us money, I reasoned, let them do it. But I found out that all they were interested in was the internet end of the thing, even though they didn’t know anything about it other than it was something that was making people in the States rich. I discovered that they weren’t mentioning me or the magazine in any of their meetings for funding (“You’re too old to be bankable,” one of them told me), and that they were misrepresenting the thing in their presentations.

Came the new millennium, I walked away from it. I terminated my latest relationship, with a deeply depressed and neurotic woman, and announced that the company would have to get along without me. I also disincorporated it, since I had that power, and I didn’t want my name on a company that was obviously headed off a cliff. (Its corpse can be viewed here). Things around the radio station, which had indeed moved into the neighborhood, were weird, with an inexperienced British guy having taken over, and in March, 2000, I came back from my regular trip to Texas to find out I’d been fired for not telling them I was going, although I had, in fact, told them. It was just a ruse to prevent having to tell me to my face. Cowards are like that.

The Wall Street Journal Europe lasted another couple of years, but the parent paper suffered greatly due to 9/11, which made a huge hunk of their downtown New York real-estate unavailable, and my editor was replaced with another, who decided to clear the decks.

So for the past five years, I’ve been inside these walls, looking at the ghosts of what happened here. The prospect of having to leave is unpleasant, the prospect of having to search for a new apartment is depressing, and the prospect of perhaps having to learn a whole new neighborhood — not to mention having to load all the accumulated crap of a decade onto a truck and then unload it again — is really unpleasant, especially when I’d much rather be moving to France, which I could do if I had a book deal in the works.

No, it’s not going to be fun. But every time I sit on that spavined, stuffing-leaking couch and see Steve Lacy’s face, I realize that I’ll be much better off in a place where I can make some new ghosts.

On-Demand, You Got Me Again

Now, what in the hell possessed me to On-Demand The Reaping? Was it a desire to watch Stringer Bell in his biggest movie roll yet? It certainly wasn’t my desire to absorb any Biblical horror. Biblical horror and zombie films: Two sub-genres that don’t really do it for me. Yawn.

I did have a thought today. I’d like to see Cormac McCarthy’s (and now, the Coen Brothers’) Anton Chigurh tracking down Miranda July through the Pacific Northwest, storming through coffee shops, art galleries, and Whole Foods locations, offing all of her collaborators and colleagues with suppressed shotguns and a pneumatic cattle punch until the absurd, bloody finale.