Robert Quine- Early Recordings: Bruce's Farm (1969)

Robert Quine in a rare photo without his sunglasses.

Quine's autograph, for you handwriting analysis freaks.

These are the earliest known recordings of Robert Quine playing guitar. A tape of him playing bass in a band called the Counterpoints exists, but he would never play it for me because the sax player (who had played on the Caps' classic Red Headed Flea on White Star) didn't show up the night of the gig that was taped and Quine hated the tape. These tunes were recorded in May, 1969 when Quine was a member of a band called Bruce's Farm. The other members were Barry Silverblatt- guitar/lead vocals, Rick Davis- bass/vocals and Bob Clark- drums. Quine is playing guitar and singing harmony. Here's one of the originals-- Backwards. The other original is simply called Blues and is your basic twelve bar blues instrumental with a wild guitar break from Quine. The other twenty songs on the tape are covers of fairly well known tunes-- Elvis, Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Hendrix, Kinks, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Carl Perkins are all represented as well as a cool rendition of the Fiestas' So Fine (done in three part disharmony) along four Byrds covers (Quine loved the Byrds). Here are some highlights-- Satisfaction, Feel A Whole Lot Better, Where Have All The Good Times Gone (that's Quine singing lead on the Kinks cover, I think he sings it better than Bowie did), Blueberry Hill, Walk Away Renee, Revolution, Eight Miles High, and Why. I'll be posting the other elven tunes in the near future. The sound quality is a bit dodgy, there are some drop outs, static, etc. but that's to be expected from a cassette recording of a gig from forty one years ago. To my ears, the most astounding thing is that you can hear just how much Quine had already developed his unique style by '69. The only real difference is the heavy use of the wah wah pedal on some tunes. I believe this is the tape Quine played for Richard Hell when they first talked about putting the Voidoids together. It came to me from Barry Silverblatt who was the leader of the band and can be heard playing guitar and doing most of the singing. Barry and Quine kept in touch over the years, they talked nearly every week until the end of Quine's life. You can hear Barry's voice on the Velvet Underground Quine Tapes box set. If you listen closely when Lou announces from the stage that Sister Ray "is gonna go on for awhile", you hear him laugh and mumble something to Quine (it's the version of Sister Ray recorded in St. Louis). If you haven't already, you can read my recollections of a 25 year friendship with Quine here. For the last recordings Quine made before his (I believe assisted) 2004 suicide, click here. It's almost seven years since Quine took a powder, and not a day goes by when I don't think of him.

Getting back to the music, from this tape we can see that Quine's style changed more in the last year of his life (when he switched from the Stratocaster to the Telecaster and stopped using the whammy bar) than it had in the previous thirty years. Historically, this tape is a real gem, thanks Barry, you too are a gem. In my first Quine posting I talk about a band Quine told me he had in St. Louis called the Garbage Vendors. Barry, who knew Quine from that time assures me that Quine was yanking my crank with that one. Now that I think about it, it makes sense. Although he did show me picture of himself with three black guys, there were no instruments or anything in the shot, they could have been anyone. I'd love to believe that story, but the more I think about it, the more it sounds like it was made up especially for my ears.

BTW, Quine's cousin Tim Quine has a blog-- Rubber City Review which has a posting about Quine up this week.

Gillian's Found Photo #44

The Fang's contribution this week is dated Feb. '62, and this sultry vixen conjures up some type of cross between a sixties Italian film starlet and Vampira. Imagine if La Dolce Vita had been a vampire movie, this gal could have played Anita Ekberg's role. It looks like her false eyelashes where soldered onto her eyes, with the help of a crane. Her eyes seem to be reflecting back

something of a void, perhaps she's a succubus?

Albert Ayler- The Psychedelic Boogaloo Years

Albert Ayler- "We're hungry...."

Handbill for Slugs on Ave C. Lee Morgan would be murdered out front in '72 by a jealous girlfriend. Notice Sun Ra playing every Monday. Thems was the days. A young Albert Ayler, he'd join Little Walter's band as a teenager.

Ayler playing at Coltrane's funeral, 1967.

Albert Ayler (b. July 13, 1936, d. Nov. 1970) was (and is) one of the most important jazz musicians of the 2oth century and perhaps along with John Coltrane and Ornette Coleman the greatest of the "free jazz" players who came to prominence in the 1960's. From his debut recording, a version of Gershwin's Summertime recorded in Sweden with a clueless Swedish bebop rhythm section attempting to follow him, in which he turns the tune inside out, braying and screeching out his inner turmoil, it drags the listener to the edge of pathos and leaves you drained. For what it's worth (in monetary value, exactly nothing) I consider Ayler's Summertime a high point of free jazz equal to Coltrane's Alabama and Ornette Coleman's Lonely Woman, through his landmark ESP Disk recordings of the mid-60's-- Spiritual Unity, The Bells, Ghosts, Spirits, New York Eye & Ear Control, et al, recorded with one of the greatest free groups ever assembled-- Don Cherry (who had played in Ornette's original quartet) on trumpet, Gary Peacock (who left perhaps the best payday available at the time in Miles Davis' band to play with Ayler) and drummer Sonny Murray (whose name New York Eye and Ear Control was released under), Ayler made music, that to John Coltrane-- "seemed to have reached a place we have not been able to get to yet". Ayler's mission was to update the free spirited playing of the early New Orleans jazz groups (Sydney Bechet was one of his greatest influences) to reflect the world he lived in (his fiery sound mirroring the turmoil created by the Viet Nam war, the Black Panthers facing down the police dressed in black leather and armed with shotguns, children burned to death in church in Alabama, political leaders gunned down in public, etc.) One critic wrote-- "Never before has their been such naked aggression in jazz", and he was right. Ayler's music was full of rage, pathos, and a search for "spiritual unity" that he would reach often through sheer force of lung power. He played with a raw, full bodied sound, with a gutsy vibrato and blistering tone. Ayler and Cherry in fact seemed to have an almost telepathic way of playing together that is often baffling. Jazz, however is not our subject for today. I believe jazz writing is best left to those who can explain things like exactly what "modular" playing is, and I'm really not that guy. Today's subject are the discs Ayler cut near the end of his short life, records that are more R&B than jazz, yet they really defy categorization, as they are so unique there are few comparisons to be found in music. The only one I can make is the guitar dominated rock'n'roll/funk fusion of Miles Davis' records like Jack Johnson, Live-Evil, Agartha, Pangaea, parts of Get Up With It (Rated X for example) and On The Corner (and the many outtakes that have recently emerged on the Jack Johnson and On The Corner sessions box sets). I once heard that Iggy when auditioning guitar players would make them listen to Jack Johnson, a great rock'n'roll record, jazz fans disdained it when it came out.

I guess some background is in order. Albert Ayler was born and raised in Cleveland. His father played jazz in the style of Dexter Gordon and raised his sons, Albert and brother Donald (who'd join Albert's band in the late 60's on trumpet) to play jazz. A fast study, by his teens he had mastered the style of Charlie Parker, no mean feat, and was known around Cleveland as Little Bird.

As a teenager he toured with blues great Little Walter, although Walter's simple music quickly bored him and he was quickly fired for experimenting on the bandstand (Ornette Coleman had a similar experience in Pee Wee Crayton's band, they left him stranded at the side of a road). In High School he was a champion golfer, but since most country clubs banned Afro-Americans there was no future in golf for young Albert and after graduating High School he joined the Army where he was stationed mostly in France. When he joined an Army jazz band, the officer who led the band told the other musicians to "Stay away from him--- he's insane", according to Ayler. After his discharge in 1959 he moved first to L.A. and then, in 1962, to Sweden where he briefly played in one of Cecil Taylor's groundbreaking free jazz groups (the only recording with Taylor that has surfaced can be found on Revenant's incredible nine CD box set Holy Ghost). He made his first recordings in Sweden, and it was a Swedish radio broadcast that the aforementioned version of Summertime was recorded, and later released on the LP My Name Is Albert Ayler on the Debut label out of Denmark in 1963.

Ayler relocated to New York City in 1964 where he put together the classic line up and was soon recording for the tiny ESP-Disk label (which sometimes printed its liner notes in Esperanto as well as English), making a name for himself and becoming one of the most controversial and polarizing figures in jazz history. One of his earliest supporters was John Coltrane, both players seemed to have influenced each other to various extents and Trane became an important patron, even lending him money to get by. Trane's Ascension was especially influenced by Ayler's Spiritual Unity and Ghosts which Ayler had sent to Coltrane a year earlier.

In one of the few interviews he ever gave, Ayler told Downbeat's Nat Hentoff-- "We're in the same position as some old blues guy playing his harmonica on the corner. Where a record company guy comes up and says, here play into this microphone and I'll give you a drink of wine". Basically, even low paying gigs were hard to come by, and he made almost no money from his recordings for the tiny ESP-Disk label which recorded him on a shoe string budget. "We're hungry" he told Hentoff, and he meant it literally, it's hard enough to play jazz, try it when you haven't eaten in a few days.

In 1966 Coltrane helped Ayler get a deal with Impulse Records, the most important and open minded jazz label of its day, they were not only releasing Coltrane's most experimental records (A Love Supreme, Ascension, Meditations, Interstellar Space) but also issued discs by Archie Shepp (Fire Music), Sun Ra (not a free jazz player, but surely one prone to experiment), and Pharaoh Sanders (Tauhid, whose centerpiece Upper and Lower Egypt would provide the Stooges with the classic bass line for Little Doll, to get off the track yet again). But Impulse could not find a larger audience for Ayler's music and records like Live In Greenwich Village and Love Cry with their superior recording and better distribution failed to sell any more than his low budget ESP Disk sides. When Coltrane died in '67 (Ayler played at his funeral, the recording, found on the Holy Ghost box is one of the most distraught and beautiful waxings ever made) Ayler's mind seemed to come slightly unhinged. Which is a very roundabout way to bring us to today's subject-- Albert Ayler's attempt to get his music across to a larger audience, to make enough money to eat regularly, or in the colloquialism of the time, his strange and desperate attempt at "selling out".

The LP New Grass, released in 1968 saw a radical difference in Ayler's music. New Grass finds him backed by an R&B band, playing in a style that Bob Quine, who turned me on to Ayler's music dubbed --"psychedelic boogaloo". Ayler began singing (badly) and his new girlfriend and manager (and later lead vocalist) Mary Maria Parks contributed by writing lyrics aimed at hippies, acid heads and people that said "groovy" a lot. Tunes like New Generation, Heart Of Love, Everbody Movin', Oh! Love Of Life, and Free At Last, are positively perverse. I'm not sure what is says about me, and my "taste" (or lack there of) but I find these sides fascinating. For, although the backing is fairly commercial sounding funky boogaloo, when Albert solos, he's playing in much the same style he played on his earlier groundbreaking free jazz sides. Listen to that solo in New Generation--it's insane! The first time I heard it I almost wet myself. Playing on these tracks are such stellar R&B sideman as Bernard "Pretty" Purdie on drums, Buddy Lucas on baritone sax, and Joe Newman on trumpet. Of course, Mary Maria Parks is singing back up, that's her delivering lines like "sock it to 'em, sock it to 'em/let 'em have it let 'em have it" on New Generation.

Ayler was savaged by the critics, and New Grass never found an audience with the hippies or R&B fans, so Ayler's next record was something of a cross between his free jazz style and his new, R&B direction. Bringing in Canned Heat guitarist Henry Vestine (who also played on the Gamblers surf classic- LSD-25 b/w Moondog, he was riding high on the Heat's success) and piano player Bobby Few, Albert recorded Music Is The Healing Force of The Universe (1969) the highlight of which is by a disturbingly grim blues dirge called Drudgery, which I think is one of the greatest and most successful attempts to fuse rock'n'roll and jazz ever waxed (there's an outtake of the same tune called Toiling, the titles seem to hint at Ayler's disillusionment with music and the music biz in general, another tune was called The Birth Of Mirth).

Again, this disc sold naught. As a sell out, Ayler was as much a commercial failure as he was as a visionary genius. Although he was often seen sporting a snazzy, leather suit, he was still often hungry. He even took up playing bagpipes which didn't help matters in the least.

His last year and a half, much of which was spent touring in Europe, especially France, where he had a good following, he returned to playing in his ground breaking free style, at least to the European audiences which understood his music more. On some of his last recordings Mary Marie would become lead singer (and blow a bit of soprano sax), and also write many of the tunes. The sides recorded in 1969-70 (excepting those cut in France) were probably the least inspired of his career. In 1970 his brother Donald who had been playing trumpet in his band, entered a mental hospital from which he would periodically emerge-- bitter, in fact, enraged. In Kasper Collins' 2005 documentary My Name Is Albert Ayler, Donald, when interviewed, spends most of his time bitching about the fact that someone is making a film about his brother's life and not his own. Donald Ayler passed away in 2007. On Nov. 5, 1970, Albert Ayler vanished and twenty days (Nov. 25, 1970 for the mathematically challenged) later his body was pulled out of the East River (not chained to a jukebox as one urban legend has the story). The police assumed it was a suicide, but Mary Marie Parks, the last person to see him alive, saw no sign of depression or possibly suicidal thoughts. Of course there were and still are all kinds of conspiracy theories and rumours, most say that he was murdered, but no one has ever come forth with a reasonable motive or a suspect. His death remains as much a mystery today as it was forty years ago. Albert Ayler's life, and musical legacy, has left more questions than it answered. It's safe to say, he is a lot more appreciated now than when he walked this planet. Google gives 174,000 results for a search of his name, it's unlikely that all his records combined sold that many copies when he was alive.

For essential reading on Albert Ayler's music and life may I suggest Val Wilmer's As Serious As Your Life: The Story Of The New Jazz (Serpent's Tail, reprinted in 1992), Albert Ayler: Holy Ghost a hard bound book that comes with the Revenant box set, and The Freedom Principle: Jazz After 1958 by John Litweiler (DeCao, 1984). Also, there's always some interesting things up at this blog dedicated to Albert Ayler's music.

Inventing Punk Rock, part 1 of 5,235

The Imperial Dogs, Don Waller out front.

The Imperial Dogs- inventing punk rock, 1974.

Richard Lloyd of Rocket From The Tombs, plugs their new brand new single.

Nick Kent today, plugging his new book.

For about a month I had been attempting to write a posting about the bands in the years 1972-4 that were the precursors to the punk explosion, the idea was to do a round up of band around the country who were blazing the trail, spreading the lore of the Stooges, Velvets, etc., but I finally have to admit, it's too big a subject for one posting, and it's just too hard to figure out who to include and exclude. I mean where to draw the line in the sand? Do I include the Flamin' Groovies who had been together since 1966? Were the Dictators the first NY punk group to record or do I go back to the Velvet Underground, or Suicide, or the New York Dolls? Where does a group like the Runaways fit in? Or Big Star? Where to put Distorted Levels who probably never even played a gig? Does everything have to be classified and put in its own specimen jar? It's a subject that really deserves a book. Anyway, after much blathering and trying to sum up entire scenes and/or careers in one or two sentences I gave up. I thought I would just discuss three groups and one book, and leave the rest for possible future blogeration or better yet, let somebody else do it (anyone but Clinton Van Heylin who can't find CBGB on the map, I stopped reading his book when he put it on "the corner of Bowery and 2nd Ave", two avenues that run parallel and never meet, although I had a feeling I wasn't going to finish it when he called Raw Power -- mellow, I think was the term). If you want to investigate the subject of the pre-punk underground I suggest you order back issues of Black To Comm fanzine which covered the ground in great detail for over a decade (it's now a blog, but I think some back issues are still available if you e-mail 'em).

The first group I'd like to mention since they're never given credit and seemed to be one of the first, is an L.A. group called the Droogs. They were the first (using terms like this make me want to saw my own toes off, but I can't think of a better one) garage revival band, having released their own debut single-- He's Waitin' b/w Light Bulb Blues (Plug'n Socket) in 1972, a mere six years after the peak year for the original American garage bands. Of course, the a-side is the Sonics tune, the flip originated with the Shadows Of Night. This was released the same year as Lenny Kaye's original Nuggets (Elektra) compilation and Mark Shipper's first Sonics re-issue Explosive (Buck Shot) opened people's eyes that these groups all had something in common (Dave Marsh had dubbed the sound "punk rock" a year or two earlier in his Looney Tunes column in Creem). The Droogs second 45, their first original tune-- Set My Love On You b/w the Kinks' I'm Not Like Everybody Else (Plug n'Socket) is my favorite. They stayed together for decades, led by singer Ric Albin and guitarist Roger Clay, they cut many fine LP's, I think the final one was in '97. There is an excellent anthology of all their early singles released in '98 on the German Music Maniac label called, oddly enough-- Droogs Anthology. Of course, they only found a following in Europe, where I believe they toured. While working a one day job helping out the Dream Syndicate, I became friends with their bass player Dave Prevost (who was also in the Dream Syndicate for a time, he'd also been in Al Green's band), and in 1984 while on their first (only?) visit to New York City, he dragged them into an after hours joint I was helping to run (No Se No on Rivington Street) and they played an incredible 5 AM set. I wish I could find the tape. They were fantastic.

Another trail blazing L.A. band of the era, who had a much shorter life span, were the Imperial Dogs seen in the above clips playing to a mostly bewildered audience in 1974 at a college in Long Beach, California. The clips are from a DVD--The Imperial Dogs- Live In Long Beach, Oct. 30 1974 which is available from the band's own website. The Imperial Dogs represent those scattered (chosen) few who were spreading the gospel of the the Stooges (which is what the snazzy swastika flag draped over the amp refers to, not any type of racist/fascist political mentality, it was a much more innocent time, who thought real Nazis would make a comeback?), the Velvet Underground (one of the three covers on the DVD is burning version of Waitin' For The Man), 60's garage bands, the best 60's British groups like the Kinks (Til The End Of The Day is another roar through) and the Yardbirds, and the spirit of real rock'n'roll-- hard, mean with attitude to spare, and a sense of humor to boot. The Imperial Dogs had their own very original sound, wrote great songs and were excellent musicians. Of course they totally baffled everyone who saw them at the time except Kim Fowley and Iggy Pop who both gave 'em the thumbs up. The only gigs they could get were at Rodney's English Disco where they played twice, and a few odd shows they set up themselves like the one seen on the DVD. By the time L.A. had a punk scene (I guess '77 would be LA's ground zero), the Imperial Dogs were long gone, but a posthumous 45 was issued on Back Door Man Records --This Ain't The Summer Of Love (which was re-written by the Blue Oyster Cult and is the opening track on their biggest selling album Agents Of Fortune) b/w Midnight Dog, later followed by an LP-- Unchained Maladies- Live 1974-5 issued in '89 on the Australian Dog Meat label. Both are difficult to find today, so the DVD is the only way to hear 'em, but you also get to see 'em, and the liner notes and booklet alone are worth the twenty bucks the thing cost. Lead singer Don Waller would go on to co-found the great Back Door Man fanzine and become a respected music writer, too bad he never made anymore music, he was certainly on the right track. Had the Imperial Dogs stayed together for another year or two they might have changed the course of L.A. punk for the better. But then again, they might have been totally rejected for not having the right hair cuts. Hard to tell, and who knows? A movie got made about Darby Crash (I'd love to have been a fly on the wall at the meeting where that one was pitched), and the real visionaries are nearly forgotten. The only mention they get in Marc Spitz and Brendan Mullen's We've Got The Neutron Bomb (Three Rivers Press, 2001) is in a quote from Waller concerning Back Door Man and Ron Asheton's band The New Order (the Droogs don't get mentioned at all). An old story, no?

Rocket From The Tombs were Cleveland's great white light/white heat hope from the era, again they referenced the Velvet Underground and the Stooges at a time both names were virtually unknown or despised by most of the world (even covering Foggy Notion, a tune that wouldn't see vinyl release until the 1976 Evil Mothers (Skydog) EP. Much has been written about RFTT and their guiding light Peter Laughner, once again I refer you to Black To Comm for the best (and first) things I've read about them (except for Lester Bangs' obituary for Peter Laughner which can be found in the collection Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung). Rocket From The Tombs are best remembered these days as the band that split into two factions-- one formed Pere Ubu, the other the Dead Boys (whose best songs were from the RFTT repertoire-- Sonic Reducer, Ain't It Fun, Down In Flames). Some excellent live material has surfaced over the years and a re-recorded version of their 1975 set list also appeared early in this decade. I mention them today because they have newly recorded 45 out-- I Sell Soul b/w Romeo & Juliet (Hearthan) and it sounds, well, just like their old stuff. I love it. There's also a new live set of vintage RFTT material from Ann Arbor's Second Chance club set for release some time soon on Smog Veil. If in 1976 when I sent away for the first Pere Ubu single from Hearthan, if you'd told me Rocket From The Tombs would have reformed and be releasing discs on the same label in 2010, well, I would not have believed you.

Then again, I wouldn't believe the Stooges and William Burroughs would be on TV commercials and Andre Williams would be my good friend either.

Anybody who was looking for signs of life in rock'n'roll in the years 1972-5 read the New Musical Express, the best of Britain's three weekly music rags, and for one reason--Nick Kent. While most Brit papers were worshipping at the alter of prog rock (especially Melody Maker), Kent was writing about the Stooges, uncovering the then forgotten stories of Syd Barrett and Brian Wilson. He was to the 70's what Nic Cohn was to the 60's, London's guy in the know, and his new book-- Apathy For The Devil: A 1970s Memoir (Faber, UK, 2010) is a moving, dirt filled, masterpiece. When punk erupted in the UK in '76, like an exploding white head on a pimple, Malcom McClaren had Sid Vicious attack Kent with a chain at a Sex Pistols show, certainly as a way of covering his own tracks since it was Kent who turned the (pre-Johnny Rotten) Pistols onto the Stooges and the Modern Lovers, and McClaren would like to have the world believe that everything the Pistols did originated in his small mind. McClaren is truly a cretinous excuse for a human being. This set off a wave of attacks on poor Nick Kent. Any moron wanting immediate "punk cred" would attack the poor guy with chains, knives, steel toed boots, etc. as way of attempting to bond with their heroes the Sex Pistols. Kent, who unknown to us fans of his in the states, was living the hard scrabble life of a homeless junkie for much of the period takes it all in stride. In fact, there are parts of this book where he's harder on himself than Sid was on him. He knew everyone worth knowing at the time and for insider looks at pre-fame Chrissie Hynde, down and out Iggy Pop and James Williamson in L.A. post Raw Power, Lester Bangs in his days at Creem in Michigan, the inner politics of the NME, not to mention setting his withering glare on the Stones, Led Zep, the Faces, Bowie, Bolan, Roxy, Eno, and others, make this book a juicy read. It nearly made me cry, and definitely made me laugh. If you never read The Dark Stuff (Farber, UK, 1996), a collection of many of his best pieces from 1972-1993 including the aforementioned groundbreaking Syd Barrett and Brian Wilson portraits, that might be the place to start (although personally, I think The Dark Stuff should have been twice as long, so many of his best pieces are missing, and I sold my NME collection years ago). To this day, I skim the Guardian and other UK newspapers and mags looking for his byline, I'll read anything he writes. Even when I disagree, he's one of the few music writers that I have any respect for, I believe that is because he's honest even when his subject matter forces the ugliest aspects of rock'n'roll and the idiots who love it right in your face. Let's face it, rock'n'roll too often brings out the worst in people, and it attracts many of the worst people, and Kent is the only writer I've ever read who doesn't shy away from that white elephant in the room. Still, he comes off as more than fair, doling out the most jaundice critique for himself (for letting himself be duped by the allure of it all). For that reason alone Apathy For The Devil is an important book. Make your kids read it.

Addendum: I just ordered my copy of the first Stooges album, Collector's Edition from Rhino Handmade. For two cds (with booklet and bonus 45), I do feel $50 + $5 shipping is a bit pricey. Of course I ordered the thing, how can I not? Basically, I feel like I can't live without owning the two takes of Asthma Attack (which I've never heard before), but I feel kinda like a sucker. I only hope the Stooges didn't give 'em a break on the publishing, but since the "ten song cap" (i.e. a record company will only pay the publishing royalties on ten songs no matter how many tunes are on the record, despite what federal law says about payment of publishing aka "mechanicals") is usually a non-negotiable part of any record contract (and the Stooges signed theirs in 1969, their original contract actually has the words 78 RPM records in it), it's rather unlikely the high price is due to a higher royalty/publishing rate for the band. But I'd feel better about shelling out fifty bucks for the thing if it did. WTF, it's only money. I'm still glad I bought three copies of the Funhouse Sessions box, even if I did give two of them away as presents. Since most of my friends are dead, at least I have twenty eight takes of Loose to keep me company.

Gillian's Found Photo #43

This one looks like it could be a casting call for Stanley Kramer's The Defiant Ones (1958), the one where Sydney Poitier and Tony Curtis escape from jail chained together, on the run from a sheriff played by Theodore Bikel. Actually, you can't tell by this photo, but judging from the other photos in the batch it came from, it's turns out they are G.I.'s and this photo was taken in Viet Nam. Their unit seems to be doing some earth moving judging by the dump trucks in the rear of the shot. Possibly building an airstrip in some remote jungle spot. They also appear to be sharing, what back then would have been called "a reefer". Of course the Ray Ban Wayfarers are a dead give away that the "first termer" on the left is one hep ofay.

Doug Sahm/Sir Douglas Quintet

On Playboy After Dark, check out Barbi Benton's dress. Trini Lopez introduces SDQ. With human statues as props.

Has it really been eleven years since Doug Sahm died? Man, do I miss seeing him play. He'd come through NYC nearly every year, or at least every other year, sometimes with a version of the Sir Douglas Quintet, whom I saw several times at the old Lone Star Cafe, and once in Central Park (at their last Sir Douglas Quintet appearence in NYC, a friend of mine who I shall not name, beaned Paul Schaffer, who shoved Augie Meyer off the organ to jam, in the head with a peanut). One of the best Doug Sahm shows I ever saw was at the Lone Star with a band called the Masked Marvels who all wore wrestling masks (except Doug), it was Doug, Mike Buck on drums, Rocky Morales on sax, Augie Meyer on organ, Speedy Sparks on bass and John Reed (who plays the amazing solo on Roky Erickson's Don't Slander Me) on guitar, and maybe fiddler Alvin Crow, I can't quite remember if he was there or not. They did everything from Bacon Fat to You're Gonna Miss Me to Wooly Bully. In fact, I never saw Doug Sahm play a bad show, or even a mediocre one. He may have been taken for granted in his adopted hometown of Austin, but here in New York he always found an enthusiastic audience. I just finished reading Texas Tornado: The Times & Music of Doug Sahm by Jan Reid with Shawn Sahm (University Of Texas Press, 2010), and despite a few factual errors (all fairly minor, for one thing Roky Erickson is singing "I'm workin' in the Kremlin" in Two Headed Dog), and questionable critical judgements (personally, I don't think the lyrics to Mendicino are trite, I think the line "Fast talkin' guys/with strange red eyes/put things in your head and get your mind to wanderin'" is kinda genius. I mean we're talking rock & roll lyrics). All things considered, it's a good read. And since it's rather unlikely anyone else writes a biography of Doug Sahm (although given the amount of music he made, he deserves several more volumes dedicated to him), if you're a fan you're gonna buy this thing. There really was nobody else like Sahm, a guy who could do country, R&B, blues, garage rock, all sorts of Mexican styles (sometimes all in the same set) and do it all well. Anyway, I thought you'd enjoy the above clips, the color one is from Playboy After Dark and the B&W is from Hullabaloo where they're introduced by Trini Lopez. The last time I looked the entire Mercury Recordings of Doug Sahm and the Sir Douglas Quintet (all five CD's worth) were posted here. Including an alternate take of At The Crossroads that I'd never heard before. I'd move fast, stuff like that doesn't stay up for long. If you have no idea who Doug Sahm was, you missed one of the 20th century's greatest musicians, and I feel sorry for you, a good introduction to him and his music can be found here.

Le Petomane (Joseph Pujol)

La Petomane introducing his act at the Moulin Rouge, 1892: "Preparez vous a etre etonne"!

Le Petomane blowing out a candle, part of his stage act.

Joseph Pujol aka Le Petomane at the height of his powers.

Le Petomane never recorded, here however is a disc by an imitator of his Mr Lefires, issued in 1904.

Joseph Pujol was born on June 1, 1857 in Marseilles, France to Francois Pujol and Rose Demaury, both of whom were of Catalan origin and brought to France as children. Francois was a stone mason and sculptor (the twisted columns on the Museum Of Fine Arts or Parlais Longchamp in Marseilles, are his and can still be seen holding the place up). Joseph, the eldest of five children was schooled until age thirteen then took on an apprenticeship as a baker. His father soon set him up in a little shop in a building that he had built with his own hands in the Quarter St Charles Chuttes-Lavie, on the corner of the street which today bears his name--Rue Pujol. At age 26 he married Elizabeth Henriette Oliver (b. 1863), the daughter of a butcher, and together they would have ten children.

It was while swimming one summer, while still in his teens that young Joseph discovered his unique talent, the reason why he is still remembered to this day. He found he was able to ingest any amount of liquid he desired, through his anus, and expel said liquid in such a way as to hit any target at a good distance. He used this talent to entertain his friends, and went back to the bakery. He again put his talent to use to entertain his friends when he was drafted into the Army, and in secret began practicing, not with liquid but with air. Now Pujol discovered he could control his intake and outtake of air in such a way as to imitate sounds found in nature (bird calls, beasts howling, etc.), blow out candles, and eventually play simple melodies on a flute he had built to his own specifications. He decided to go into showbiz and gave his first performance in Marseilles in a small theater he rented himself for the occasion. His debut was such a success he soon approached the an agent for a local music hall and there is evidence that he gave a short tour in the year 1991 performing in Toulon, Bordeaux (where he was examined by curious doctors) and at Clerment-Ferrand, a show which was favorably reviewed in a local newspaper.

In 1892 he was ready for the big time and headed for Paris where he presented himself to the director of the famous theater the Moulin Rouge who gave him an audition. He was put on the bill that same evening and gave his first performance, in elegant costume-- red coat with silk collar, black satin breeches, stockings, patent leather knee pumps, white butterfly tie and white gloves. He was an immediate hit and was given a contract the next day. This contract allowed him to tour and perform outside of Paris, but in Paris the Moulin Rouge had an exclusive contract. He appeared all over Europe, he was a hit all over. He also gave private "men's only" performances in which he would re-create the liquid part of the show which he had deemed inappropriate for the music hall. At one of these private shows King Leopold II of Belgium tipped him with a 20 franc gold piece. In his act he would start out doing re-creations of persons passing gas in various situations, such as a bride on her wedding night, followed by the same bride the next morning, building up to animals, bird calls, blowing out candles, playing the flute, the sound of a canon, and of course, a version of "Au claire de la lune". He would then blow out several of the gas jets on the stage and invite the audience to sing the chorus with him.

Probably because of his habit of taking daily enemas, he could do his act without creating any offensive odors, this is something remarked on by nearly all who came in close contact with him.

Despite his success, eventually he attempted to break his contract with the Moulin Rouge and set out on his own. He was sued and lost, the court fining him 3,000 francs. Still, he was a man of great humor and well liked by all, and his show continued to pack them in. His family lived well at the time, with a large house full of servants and an elegant coach in which he drove himself to work every night.

In 1914 the Great War broke out and all four of his beloved sons were mobilized. One became a prisoner of war and two were invalided. After the 1918 armistice, Joseph Pujol was a shattered man, he no longer had the heart for his comic act. He would move the family back to Marseilles, and then in 1922, to Toulon, where he resumed his original trade as a baker, eventually opening up a biscuit factory. He died in 1945 at the age of 88, shortly after the allied landing in Normandy.

His act was never filmed nor does any audio recording of it exists, yet he is still remembered and talked about to this day. Pujol's body was willed to science, the doctors who studied it were perplexed by how unremarkable it seemed.

In the years Joseph Pujol lived, Paris was the center of the art world, and created many important movements including the decadents, the symbolists, surrealism, dadaism, cubism, etc. but none any stranger than the music hall act presented by Le Petomane, the man who turned the fart into an art form.