Tommy Ramone wanted a singalong song in the band's set: 'Something the Bay City Rollers might chant' he was quoted as saying. Blitzkrieg Bop came out in February 1976 and was their first single: punk was officially born. It was also, quite possibly, the final nail in the Rollers' coffin.
Quite fitting then that they love it north of the border: 'Hey, Ho, Glasgow!'
This year marks the 90th. anniversary of the birth of Stan Getz - one of the truly great tenor saxophonists & band leaders who worked his way up through the ranks to become (and if he were alive today he'd probably hate me for saying it) a by word in Bossa Nova and Samba: in 1964 he recorded the definitive version of The Girl from Ipanema with Astrud Gilberto.
He started out as a foot soldier in Jack Teagarden's band in the forties and later with Woody Herman and Stan Kenton, before branching out on his own. He would go on to make many career defining albums with other jazz luminariess including Chet Baker, Oscar Peterson and Gerry Mulligan.
Never one to be type cast, in 1990 he teamed up with Ben Watt and Tracey Thorn to lay down a beautiful solo on The Road, taken from Everything but the Girl's fifth album The Language of Life. Getz sadly died the following year aged just 64.
Amazon are currently selling an eight album, four CD box set for a little over seven quid. What's not to like? You really should take the plunge.
T Rex's Slider is 45 years old this year; last week, in fact. I know that because The Swede told me.
However, a more sobering anniversary is lying in wait just around the corner: this September will mark 40 years since Marc Bolan bought the farm.
MARC 2
Cut down in his prime, Bolan was on the up, as opposed to on his uppers. He'd been on the skids for a couple of years. But he was back. He was fit. He'd even got his own TV show. And he'd got a new band to take on the road. For support he hooked up with a bunch of young punks and let them open for him. The Damned didn't disappoint. And neither did Bolan.
Who knew what was round the corner - Bolan certainly didn't. Could he have been a contender again? I think he still had a trick or two left up those elfin sleeves of his.
I've nicked the idea for today's post from the magnificent Swede. I won't even pretend that I put an ounce of original thought into today's 250 word offering. Icouldn't even be arsed to come up with a different way of holding the sleeve up for the photo shoot; it's basically an original high quality Swede garment with the designer label ripped out and my own (inferior) brand stitched poorly into the back of the neck - the kind that'll make you itch like a man on a fuzzy tree.
So, the Sweet. What can I say about them that I haven't bored you all to death with a million times before? Suffice it to say that The Sweet's Biggest Hits was the first album I bought with my own money. And in 1972 that was a whole hill of beans, well £2.18 anyway. And I played it ten times a day. Minimum. Why wouldn't I? Unlike singles which needed flipping over every three minutes (a bit like pancakes) RCA Victor SF 8316 (I still remember the catalogue number) would play for nearly twenty whole minutes before I had to drag myself off the bed and put the needle on the other side.
And I love the way it's called Biggest. It stops at Wig Wam Bam: less than four weeks after its release they would put out Blockbuster (#1), closely followed by Hell Raiser (#2) and Ballroom Blitz (#2). Now they were big: combined sales of those three singles alone was in excess of 1,000,000 copies (and that's just the UK): monster big. Anyway, I'll be keeping an eye on Swede Towers and see if I can't recycle some more of his ideas and cut and paste them over here. Keep 'em peeled.
The irrepressible Johnny Vaughan has been playing the sh*t out of Kasabian's latest single God Bless This Acid House. But every time it comes charging out of the speakers, all I can hear is Juke Box Jive by the Rubettes. Seriously. I really think the next time the jesters from Leicester play it on whatever TV show passes for Top of the Pops these days, they should all sport matching white berets; you never know, if could catch on. Well, maybe not in Leicester. As infectious 45s go, it's almost up there with a cracking little debut single Dean Jackson on BBC Radio Nottingham has had on constant rotation all Summer. 24 Hours a Day by the Shades is a three minute montage of every pop record ever released, from (and including) Rock Around the Clock. Again, when I hear it I can pick out so many nods and winks to classic singles and artists of yore, not least the ghost of Billy Haley whose DNA is still trapped in its rock and roll amber. And it's driving me insane. See what you think:
This year marks the 90th. anniversary of the birth of Stan Getz - one of the truly great tenor saxophonists & band leaders who worked his way up through the ranks to become (and if he were alive today he'd probably hate me for saying it) a by word in Bossa Nova and Samba: in 1964 he recorded the definitive version of The Girl from Ipanema with Astrud Gilberto.
The irrepressible Johnny Vaughan has been playing the sh*t out of Kasabian's latest single God Bless This Acid House. But every time it comes charging out of the speakers, all I can hear is Juke Box Jive by the Rubettes. Seriously. I really think the next time the jesters from Leicester play it on whatever TV show passes for Top of the Pops these days, they should all sport matching white berets; you never know, if could catch on. Well, maybe not in Leicester.