A glance at the covers of Weird Summer's first two albums, Homer and Cry For the Moon would probably inspire you to plop them right back into the dollar bin where you found them. They look just like literally dozens of other mid-80s lo-budget releases from Collegetown, USA. But if you bothered to take them home and perform some experiments on them you might be surprised at the depth and subtlety of this Champaign, Il. band. You might think, "Wow, that singer has a great voice," and turn the jacket over to find the name of Bob Kimbell whose voice is similar, but pitched slightly higher than, Michael Stipe's. (I know people have a lot of different opinions re: Stipe, but I think the tonality of his voice is gorgeous.) You might also notice that the guitar interplay of Kimbell and Nick Rudd (Turning Curious, Blown) recalls Felt and the Byrds. And after a couple of spins you might be amazed to find that all of the songs are really really good, with fetching melodies, thoughtful lyrics, and simple but effective arrangements.

I was a pretty ravenous consumer of fanzines during the latter half of the 80s, and I don't remember anybody mentioning Weird Summer. I didn't know they existed until Parasol Records re-issued their first two albums as a single CD in 1994.

is Charlotte Hatherly's "Bastardo." It's funny and sad and we keep playing it over and over in rotation with the Futureheads.

Terrific punk rock single, or goofy knock-off of the Rezillos "(My Baby Does) Good Sculptures?" Who says it can't be both? This is one of many fantastic records that first came to our attention via the Teenage Treats compilations of rare UK punk/powerpop/mod/DIY.

Whenever anyone mentions Something Pretty Beautiful it always seems to be in one of two contexts. The first is that Julian Cope's brother is in SPB; and he must be very disappointed that they never became as famous as the Teardrop Explodes, so much so that he can't be bothered to comment on Krautrock or Stonehenge. The second is in the context of demonstrating that not everything Creation Records touched turned to gold. "Yeah, I'll give you Teenage Fanclub, the Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine, but what about Something Pretty Beautiful?"

We don't care. At Little Hits you can be in our Hall Of Fame if you have that one song that makes us laugh or cry or try to sing like Frankie Lymon. Or in this case Scott Walker. It's a big grandiose pop number, brimming with the possibilities of spring and the notion that things will get better, however eventually.

More Australian guitar pop from the 80s. One might think that once he or she has amassed all of the great 45s from the more prominent indies like Citadel and Waterfront and Greasy Pop and AuGoGo that there couldn't possibly be much left. One would be very very wrong. Here's a tip of the iceberg from the perhaps-inappropriately named Spliffs; their breathless pop doesn't suggest marijuana nearly so much as grape soda. This is from their first 7", a three-song disc in an oversized pic sleeve. Three other singles and an LP, House Of Seven, followed.

Some of the best sixties punk records are barely comprehensible, especially if they're by a Texas band. These San Antonio kids already had one future classic, "I'm In Pittsburgh (And It's Raining)" to their credit by the time they waxed this 45 in early '67, but this one is a giant leap sideways. Actually several giant leaps sideways in one song. After weaving all over the road doing 50 in a 30 mph zone it pulls over and barks nonsense at you, then roars off again. Sort of like "7 and 7 Is" but with no attention span whatsoever.

We're big fans of this Boston combo's massive rendition of the Sparkle Moore rockabilly obscurity "Skull and Crossbones." In fact we'd go so far as to say that this EP easily blows anything the Cramps have done since they left IRS out of the stagnant, slimy water. While Jack Hickey's guitar steals the show, it's worth noting that frontman John Hovorka made several strange DIY records in the early eighties that bear no resemblance to this. There was a full-length LP that followed called Magic Fingers and Hourly Rates on New Rose (France), which I sold about 15 years ago for the price of a pack of cigarettes. Wish I hadn't.

What's more mod than having a Batman sticker on your Rickenbacker? The Reactions were a swell Cleveland combo who made a pair of singles and a solid EP for Homestead before they decided that their dreamed-of youth explosion was never going to ignite. This was their first effort, a great flower-pop song with just enough dirtiness to the jangle that even mean guys like Byron Coley and Gerard Cosloy liked it. Current whereabouts: Dave Swanson has been involved with the New Salem Witch Hunters, and Swanson and bassist Brian McCafferty are garage-folk-rocking out in the Rainy Day Saints. The RDSaints will release a second LP this year on Get Hip. For more details check the excellent Clepunk site, dedicated to Ohio's long and amazing history of great punk bands.

While to my knowledge neither of the major political parties ever formed an exploratory committee regarding the Presidential chances of Curtiss A, he nevertheless felt it necessary to nip any such notions in the bud via this number which sounds a bit like some journeyman soul shouter fronting the Damned. If you're geek enough to handle it, Twin/Tone Records has an incredibly detailed website, where they provide information on their early releases including to the exact number of copies sold. Several of these early records were by Curtiss A (real name, Curt Almstead), and feature his punk/R 'n' B fusion that surely must have made him at least a local legend. He made three LPs for Twin/Tone during the 80s which were once fairly ubiquitous in Midwestern used-record stores, but are no longer so common, especially the first, Courtesy.

Please excuse the sound quality; this file was converted from a nearly twenty-year-old cassette that had been dubbed off of a flexi-disc. The Garden Path were an interesting footnote in the mid-80s explosion of cool Australian bands, a little bit loud guitar pop, a little bit psychedelic, a little bit garage. I'm currently in the process of tracking down their Greasy Pop LPs. If memory serves there was also a spinoff thing by the name of the Dust Collection, but I could be making that up. This song would be on my A-list of tracks for a CD compilation of the best stuff from the Bob flexi-discs, along with R.E.M.'s version of "Femme Fatale," Robyn Hitchcock's "Surgery," and the Feelies' awesome cover of "Dancing Barefoot."

Both sides of this Oklahoma 45 are great, so it was hard to pick one. Very little information afforded by the sleeve, other than they appear to have been a three piece. Insert shows band looking like fairly typical purveyors of skinny-tie pop, perhaps a bit like fellow Okies 20/20 whose relatively modest success the Jacks would probably been grateful to duplicate. Currently kind of pricey as these things go, as it is a fairly recent discovery of the collecting fraternity and is of very high quality.

Lois Maffeo is a national treasure, and the three 7"s she made with Patrick Maley (drummer and YoYo Studio guy) under the name Courtney Love (two on K, One on Feel Good All Over) are all to be prized. (Someone really ought to round them up on a CD.) Her peculiar haunting melodic sense and beautiful wordplay have touched us many times, but this song is probably our favorite.

No relation to that other Courtney Love, that one whose band sounded like Sonic Youth until grunge took over and she realized she'd hopped on the wrong carousel. The one who represented the very apex of alternarock self-absorption with "Doll Parts." The one who sold millions of records and landed a spot on Spin's "Top 100 Alternative Albums" list. The one who was so traumatized by the death of her husband that she no longer appears to be able to write songs. The one who at present amounts to nothing except a punchline of a joke that is now more pathetic than funny.

I was blasting this in the car on the way to school, and it reminded me that it really needs to be on Little Hits. In another instance of horrible timing, this brilliant 45 came out during the period when there was an absolute glut of 7-inch discs by bands wanting to be the next Pavement or Stereolab (both great bands, but one of each is probably enough) or Sebadoh or Slint (one of each is about 50% too many). Perhaps that's why it was unceremoniously dumped at the used record shop by the kid from the college radio station. This would be a terrific record just on the strength of it's melody and chorus hook. What really pushes it over the top are some very finely wrought lyrics with considerable humor and admirable attention to detail.

"My Danger" was written by one Tom Beaujour; I don't know much about him, but I can divulge that his bass-playing/singing/songwriting comrade, Mr. Marcelo Romero, spent some time in the Wishniaks. But that is a story we will tell later. Shake Appeal also have a full-length CD on Go-Kart called You're Too Rich. Meanwhile, copies of this very single are available on the Deep Elm website for a buck. Think I'm gonna order another handful.

I just wanted to make a quick post to tell all of you who have left comments how much I enjoy it, and to encourage everyone to feel free to throw their two cents in any time they'd like.

Best wishes,

Jon

Folks who live for that UK powerpop sound as featured on the Shake Some Action series of CD compilations absolutely lose their composure over the Tours "Language School" 45. And it is indeed a great record. But, man, this one's awfully good too. I have a suspicion that we haven't heard the last of vocalist/singer Ronnie Mayor on Little Hits...

BTW, I would highly recommend the Shake Some Action CDs, especially the UK volumes, to our visitors who liked our selections by the Donkeys, Dazzlers, Tonight, etc. Does anyone know where to find track listings for those discs online?

Shamrock J. says that the vocals on this song are just about the punkest thing he can think of, and we appreciate what he means. Tuff and teenage. At Little Hits we have a special place in our hearts and on the stereo for that particular breed of 60s teenagers who had cheap gear and a sneering lead singer, but still carefully rehearsed their three-part harmonies. The Intruders were from Pittsfield IL and managed just the one disc before psychedelia kicked in and they were forced to change their name to something ridiculous (not The Something Ridiculous). The scan is from the late 90s re-issue on MCCM records; they also did a re-ish of one of the all time fuzz monsters, Gonn's "Blackout Of Gretely," which must be heard on Rhino's Nuggets Box. This was one of a very, very small percentage of garage 45s that was originally issued in a pic sleeve.

It's hard to imagine now how profoundly R.E.M. shook the indie world in the early-to-mid 80s. After Murmur it seemed that college students all over the US instantly formed hundreds of bands with thin, trebly guitars and vocals mumbled and slurred to the point where one couldn't make out how precious the lyrics were. Many of them found their way into a recording studio with either Don Dixon or Mitch Easter. Bands like One Plus Two, the Connells, Turning Curious, Blue TV, Kilkenny Cats, and Dreams So Real all made pleasant but generally insubstantial contributions to the racks of well-intentioned indie stores, and I should know because I bought all of them. Unfortunately the proliferation of this very derivative style caused some fine bands who had one or two things in common with Stipe and friends to be tarred with the R.E.M.-alike brush by lazy fanzine writers.

Since they were form the South, occasionally made use of Rickenbacker guitars, and worked with Mitch Easter, The Windbreakers were often dismissed as one of these imitators. This was absolute blasphemy. The Windbreakers were a fine southern pop band in the tradition of Big Star and the dB's with two great songwriters: Bobby Sutliff, whose swoony melodies and aching upper register recalled Chris Bell, and his partner Tim Lee, who played a world-weary everyman character not too far from Peter Holsapple at his most conversational. After a half-baked 7" EP in a fairly standard new-wave/skinny tie pop vein they lost a couple of band members and made their first great record in 1983, a 12", 6-song EP called "Any Monkey With a Typewriter." Many others were to follow; solo LPs and Windbreakers LPs, and even solo LPs made as the Windbreakers. (1987's A Different Sort is the work of Tim Lee without Mr. Sutliff.) Run, the album from whence we get "Visa Cards..." is perhaps their best. This track gives you some idea of the glorious range of psychedelic guitar sounds they could conjure up; their heartbreak came in bright colors.

Bobby Sutliff is scheduled to have a new album this year on Not Lame; tracks I've heard suggest that it might be the most winsome collection of his career, with a gorgeous version of the Carter Family's "The Storms Are On the Ocean" providing a highlight.

Beginning with Haircut 100's "Love Plus One," Nick Heyward's career has seen its share of artistic triumphs, but it's possible that The Apple Bed represents the pinnacle of his acheivements. This album, which was released on Creation in the UK, was licensed to the defunct Big Deal records in America and can probably be found for cheap in many record stores with huge sale bins. This particular track reminds me of Crowded House, and features a particularly memorable chorus.

Since they were a Chicago band, and were active as the 70s became the 80s, it seems safe to assume that the Kind had heard and enjoyed Cheap Trick. I've seen one other Kind 45 and an LP on this same label, but this is the one you want. The versions of these songs on the LP are a bit smoother, and not quite as exciting. The Kind were a pretty good club draw back in the day, and there are still plenty of copies of this one floating around the Chicago area. Mark Henning (ex-Zoom) scored this one for me.

Steve Mitchell was relating a story of a discussion he once had with Clare at Sarah Records. She told him it was annoying that people so frequently said that the best Sarah single was the first one, "Pristine Christine" by the Sea Urchins. "Well, it is," Steve repiled. And he might be right. It's pretty hard to top something like that. That said however, my favorite Sarah single is the grandest one, St. Christopher's "Say Yes To Everything." I remember getting this home and thinking how remarkably huge it sounded compared to most of the other Sarah 45s, with the big electro drums, tympani, and crashing bass notes on the piano. Fortunately, St. Christopher, a band who went so far as to name one of their EPs "Bacharach," composed a song that would have made their chief influence proud. The result is undeniably "indie", yet atypically bold, big, and ambitious.

It was the Bandables' misfortune to present their strongest material at a juncture in US rock history where their most obvious strengths cut no mustard with hipsters. They had two talented songwriters. They had nifty boy-girl harmonies. They had smartly strummed and jangled guitars. They were cute. In 1990 the latter alone immediately wiped them off the cool radar, as the influence of the early 70s was about to re-emerge via grunge, and bands like Pussy Galore were spazzily raved on by every Forced Exposure-wannabe fanzine. Can you imagine what it must have been like to be a pop band in New York at that time? 10 years earlier they might have been hanging with the Bongos and dB's and perhaps received a bit more attention (although they did release a swell 45 as early as 1984), but such are the cruelties of the calendar.

Jerry Kitzrow and his mates are planning a Bandables retrospective for release later this year. We'll try to keep you posted. Should be very cool.

Hey! Everybody should go check out the video for the Futureheads' cover of Kate Bush's "Hounds Of Love" at the NME site. It's just frigging adorable.