Can't Get It Outta My Head








                A Baby Boomer


       Muses on The Music

Where I First Listened to The Music

There no doubt were people of my generation who heard their first rock and roll on 45-rpm records, at home or at dances, or maybe even performed live. But for most of us, we listened to AM radio. And in my case, that was mostly on WLS, the 50,000-watt clear channel station that permeated the Upper Midwest and beyond. I started listening to WLS sometime in the early 1960s, on my family’s old Philco combination AM and phonograph. It was the only radio we had, other than the one in our one and only car (until later in that decade, always a six-cylinder, three-on-the-tree Chevrolet). That family radio was situated in the dining room, but it was plugged into the same electrical circuit as the kit

Who Put the Bomp in the Sha Na Na

I need to come up with an acronym for the inspirations to Muse I get from “Buried Treasure” show on SiriusXM, because Tom Petty keeps doing it to me. This time, what I couldn’t get outta my head last week was a song called “I’m Blue,” by the Ikettes. This No. 19 hit from 1962 utilizes a stylistic device found in rock and roll — non-verbal vocalizations — so much that its title includes the parenthetical “Gong Gong.” Which the single by Ike and Tina Turner’s backup vocalists has a lot of, gongs. After leading off with a couple actual words — or maybe three, depending on how you count ’em, i.e., the title — you hear a bunch of ue’s, some doo be doo’s, and gong after gong after gong. Then there

Yardbirds Helped Hatch The Music

Previously in this blog, I’ve written about the three categories my new music purchases fall under. But there are other ways by which my music collection is expanded, including the Continuing Digitization Project. There are also the “I Didn’t Know I Had That” finds in the Big Rack O' CDs — the albums that I bought and, for some reason, forgot to import in my iTunes library. Such was the case after I wrote a This Week in Rock History entry about the Yardbirds a few months back. Contemplating the impact of that seminal ’60s English blues-rock band, I said to myself, “I thought I had a Yardbirds CD.” It wasn’t in iTunes, so I went to the Big Rack — and lo and behold, there it was, “Heart Full o

Sexism and the Single

Every once and a while, you see some cultural artifact from the past — a song, a TV show, a print advertisement, whatever — and think, “You couldn’t do that now.” Something either sexist, or racially/ethnically insensitive, or otherwise politically incorrect. When it comes to popular music, though, it’s hard to believe that there’s much you couldn’t do these days. A random survey of rap lyrics should convince you of that — that is, if you consider rap to be both “popular” and “music.” But something I heard the other day on Tom Petty’s Buried Treasure sat radio show, as is often the case, set me to thinking. And I had never before heard “He Hit Me (and It Felt Like a Kiss),” released in 1962.

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