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Author: Paul Lorentz

  • Big in France: “Allez! Ola! Olé!” by Jessy Matador (On a Boat)

    So, in a previous “Big In…” episode, I posted a video by Germany’s currently reigning Idol-equivalent champion Mehrzad Marashi and the same show’s most successful alumnus Mark Medlock, doing a pretty horrible dance song together… on a boat. Not to be outdone is one Jessy Matador, the 27-year-old Zairian-French singer-and-dancer who represented France in this year’s Eurovision song competition with “Allez! Ola! Olé!” and gave the country its best showing in years. (France last won the competition in 1977. The last time it placed as a runner-up was in 1991.) The song may only have placed 12th in the Eurovision competition but it’s currently shaking its ass at the top of the French pop chart, and it’s formed a gigantic conga line all over Europe going Top 20 in Germany, and Top 10 in Belgium, Norway (who as 2009’s Eurovision winners hosted this year’s competition) and Finland (suck on that, Dark Metal). It even nicked the U.S. club charts.

    And why not? Its infectious Afro-Carribean beats feel both instantly familiar and alluringly exotic – it’s a song in search of a Bacardi ad campaign, basically. When Jessy Matador calls out “Tout le monde!”, he means, “Everybody!”. But the literal translation of the French is “All the world!” and that applies here too. The song’s got a chorus that blithely defies language barriers by defying language itself. Allez Ola Ole? A two-year-old from Mongolia could sing along to it! The first time I heard this, I just thought it was a goofy song (the video doesn’t help that impression – see about 3:08 in the video for the dorkiest temper tantrum ever) that I figured I’d forget before I had time to close the internet browser. But its infuriatingly simple hooks have proven as relentless as Jaws, and I’ll be damned if I’ve gone a day the last couple weeks without going back to it at least once before heading out on my morning commute.

  • Harvey Fuqua 1929-2010, Last of the Moonglows

    I’d never heard of Harvey Fuqua when I picked up that Moonglows 45 from the Goodwill store where I worked when I was in college. I’d never even heard of The Moonglows really, although, by then, they’d already been inducted into the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame. The reason I bought the single: the label, of course. It was on Chess Records. It looked like it was in good, playable shape, and even if it wasn’t, it was only going to cost me the price of a soda. If nothing else, with that elegant blue and silver label and its stately chess piece logo, it would look cool hanging on a wall, or from the ceiling of my dorm room. Of course, that 45 never had a chance to become such an ornament. I fell too hard in love with both sides of it. I didn’t know which was the “plug” side and which was the “b”. Frankly, I still don’t. They’re both just that great. On one side was “Over and Over Again”, an almost comical recounting of one man’s woeful inability to learn from his romantic miscalculations, delivered with full-throated devotion by Bobby Lester, Harvey’s singing partner since their high school days; on the other side was the quirky love-at-first-sight doo-wop testimonial “I Knew From the Start”.

    “Over and Over Again”

    “I Knew From the Start”

    As it turns out, neither side was much of a hit, although they were both featured in a 1956 movie put together by a rising-star DJ named Alan Freed who had been the Moonglows’ manager and earliest champion, a movie called Rock, Rock, Rock, starring Tuesday Weld which also featured performances by The Flamingoes, Chuck Berry, and Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers. I’d never heard of it either. But when the soundtrack album was re-mastered and reissued on CD a couple of years ago in conjunction with the 50th Anniversary of rock ‘n’ roll’s ascendance, I was very quick to snatch up a copy. Of course, I didn’t wait that long to expand my Moonglows collection. Shortly after I picked up that 45, I was eager to hear more of the group, and special-ordered a 2-CD anthology of the group that had, at the time, just been released via MCA.

    It was from that collection that I learned who Harvey Fuqua was, and learned not just the pivotal role the Moonglows played in bridging the gaps between rock ‘n’ roll, the dramatic vocal pop of their forebears the Ink Spots (Harvey’s Uncle Charlie was a member), and their contemporaries The Platters, and what would soon be called soul music (Marvin Gaye’s first recorded lead vocal was on a Moonglows single); but also the role Fuqua would play in the formative success of the Motown label as a songwriter, producer and A&R man working with the Spinners and Shorty Long (both of whom migrated with Fuqua to Motown after recording for Fuqua’s own Harvey and Tri-Phi labels), along with Marvin Gaye and Tami Terrell on songs like “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough”. (He also married Berry Gordy’s sister.) Even after leaving Motown in the early 70s, Fuqua went on to some of his greatest successes, producing one of the most iconic singles of the disco era in the form of Sylvester’s “(You Make Me Feel) Mighty Real”; and in 1982, closing a 25-year career circle by collaborating with Marvin Gaye on his final album Midnight Love. Few people know his name, but there’s no question that Harvey Fuqua had a direct hand in some of the most enduring music of the last 60 years. He was the last remaining Moonglow when he passed away on July 6, 2010, just a couple weeks shy of his 81st birthday.

    Here’s the song that put The Moonglows on the map, the Fuqua-penned 1954 hit “Sincerely” (which, yes, appeared in Goodfellas – what an awesome soundtrack that is!).

  • Awesome Song Alert! “Credible Threats” by The One A.M. Radio

    According to the lyrics of his latest song, Hrishikesh Hirway, the main man behind indie pop band The One A.M. Radio, isn’t getting much sleep these days. But the chipperness (and consequent awesomeness) of his music has apparently increased in direct proportion to his insomnia. The group’s latest single “Credible Threats” is a modestly upbeat little ditty with adorably wordy verses and a playful, chutes and ladders melody, backed by pretty, ripply guitar parts and anchored by a buzzy retro synth drone. The cumulative effect is vintage Belle & Sebastian as filtered through Devo, the fatalism and urgency of the lyric just barely masked by Hirway’s softly witty, matter-of-fact, slightly detached, but ultimately vulnerable delivery. With its dorky bum-ba-dum breakdown and krautrocky instrumental coda (replete with singalong “oohs” over flying saucer synths), “Credible Threats” is just a funny sounding (but not necessarily funny funny) song about a guy who stays up at night cataloguing all the ways an unspecified “they” say he might die. That Hirway’s an emphatically mild-mannered American living in an hysterically angry America, with a “funny” name and what Sheriff Arpaio might deem a “terrorist complexion”, or at least “illegal” colored skin only underlines his probably-not-for-nothing, paranoia-tinged anxiety. I mean, here’s a guy who’s been watching himself some serious news lately. And then there’s this great couplet at the bridge:

    Tom Brokaw’s talking about a dirty bomb
    I got another call from my poor Mom.

    The song comes with this cute little video by director Andrew Huang. (Dig that choreography!) And James Cameron will be thrilled to know that Huang also did a 3-D version of the video which you can watch here. OR: Better yet, why not get yourself a copy of the 7″ single of the song directly from the band? (I just ordered mine.) In addition to the supercool colored vinyl, you’ll get downloads of the three mp3 tracks as well as the 3-D video, along with your very own set of 3-D glasses with which to watch it. All that for a mere $5.00 ($7.50 with shipping). But it’s only available in a limited edition of 500. So if you like it, you should put a credit card number on it. Like now.

    Here’s the 2-D version: