The Lionhearted - Too Bad

A follow-up to yesterday's post on the 1966 release by The Bad Roads. Today we come back with an ultra low-fi cover of the Flip-Side of The Bad Roads' single, Too Bad. The band is The Lionhearted and the unreleased recording of Too Bad was made in a garage outside of Davis, California during the Summer of 1988. The brief-lived band was Greg Baxter on vocals and a 1952 Silvertone guitar, Jack Hayden on an Epiphone Sheraton guitar, Morgan Young on a 1967 EB2D bass and a guy named Greg on drums. Yeeha!

You can hear another Lionhearted recording from the same rehearsal, this time of The Yardbirds' Honey In Your Hips, here. 

Until next time, we'll see you On The Flip-Side!

Original Song Project - Morgan Young -- Nothing Left To Lose

A quiet whimper offered for your use about a dirty little town of stray dogs, lust and hate. I hope you enjoy.

Photograph (C) Morgan Young, 2011

Original Song Project: Morgan Young - The Jamestown Hop

This song has lyrics, but I've never been satisfied with the vocal performances I've put forth on them. It's now been gathering digital dust for a year and I don't think I'll ever return to trying to do more with it. So, here it is.

Original Song Project: Morgan Young - This Song For Sale

As I mowed the lawn one day while listening to my iPod, I was struck by commonality of lyrical themes in much of the music to which I was listening. Particularly in the older country songs by Mel Tillis, Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson. That got me thinking about the world of professional song writers (to point, not performers, just the composers) and their inevitable approach to music not as a passion play, perhaps not even as an art, but most definitely as a commodity to be traded.

The spew of that thought is this song, This Song for Sale. It was one of those spontaneous compositions that took me less than 10 minutes to write. I didn't do much with it for over a year and finally rediscovered it myself. Upon rediscovering it in my dusty memory, I decided I actually liked it. A quick recording of the song and here I am sharing it with you.

I hope you like.

Original Song Project: Morgan Young - Ride That Stingray!

Here is a song I wrote about a friend's tale of running away from home when he was a young lad. I've embellished with some of my own memories and a little reminiscing about the feel of 21 pounds of steel thunder between the legs and the smell of freedom that is the open road.

I, of course, am talking about the moment we all got our first Schwinn Stingray, cruised the neighborhood with the other ruffians and tried desperately to shake our Born To Be Mild reality.

I'm using a 1967 Gibson EB2D bass, a Gibson J200 acoustic, a Fender Tele and big steaming pile of false rockabilly bravado. Some photos for this post came from the blog, The Selvedge Yard.

I hope you enjoy.

The Lionhearted -- Honey In Your Hips

Okay, you garage rock freaks. Here is one you haven't heard before. It is an unreleased track by a garage rock band out of California in the mid 80s. The band is The Lionhearted and they are covering the very early Yardbirds track, Honey In Your Hips. We're told that this was recorded in "dad's garage" and fueled by copious amounts of RC Cola and Animal Crackers. How's that for authentic?

Let us know what you think.

The hipster flipsters.

The First Flip-Side Birthday!!!

Can it really be? Yep, it's true. One year ago today the brain trust at Flip-Side International posted it's very first Song of the Week. It was the song that drove us to create On The Flip-Side. A song so beautiful, delicate and rare that we couldn't help but climb to the virtual roof top and scream out loud: "you've got to hear this song!" That song was the 13th Floor Elevators' sublime recording of their own composition I Had To Tell You, from their second album, Easter Everywhere. As first postings tend to go, that song was largely overlooked. We're still so in love with that song (and always will be!), that we urge you to go back and listen to it again. Click here to revisit that very first post.

In this first year of On The Flip-Side we have had quite a bit of action. More than we had ever hoped for to be honest. For instance...

• We've never missed a week's submission of Song Of The Week. How cool are we! Thinking back on the 52 Song of the Week submissions we've done, we think we are most fond of this one from January 3, 2009. It's about the Irish band, The Undertones and their kick ass song of false bravado and lust. It's of course Teenage Kicks. Clicky here for a look/listen back to that SoTW posting.

• Speaking of cool, in the past year we've had ten postings of original recordings of Buskers performing on the streets of the San Francisco Bay Area. Music that all too often escapes the ears of commuters and tourists bent on getting from point A to point B. We've had African drummers, traditional Phillipine folk music, bluegrass, rock-n-roll, jazz, country and blues. One of our favorites (it was hard to choose) was this recording from February, 2009 of the blue-grass inflected band, The Human Condition with their original song, Never Again. Clicky herey to hear them perform this wonderful song and stop to pause what you may be missing next time you rush past a busker in San Francisco (or anywhere else for that fact).

• And we've also had ten never before heard songs presented by four different unsigned artists as part of On The Flip-Side's Original Song Project. Songs that can't be heard anywhere else (unless you happen to live in the basement with one of these artists...and if you do, be very careful if they start fattening you up and taking measurements. It's not a good sign). We're smitten with all of the songs but we would like to draw your attention to two in particular. The first is the first song ever submitted. It's by the Street Preachers and the song is called Last Dance At Ipatiev. The second is by River Jack and it is a beautifully finger-picked number he calls Olivia Is Here.

• And we've also had specials, like our Seven Days of Summertime which featured a distinct take on the George Gershwin classic. You can revisit that here.

Lastly, we would like to complete the circle of our anniversary by giving you the option to hear another song from the artist and album that started the entire idea of us giving you the gift of music. So, without further pause, we present the 13th Floor Elevators performing their original number, (I've Got) Levitation. Enjoy and thank you for taking a look, a listen, and most of all for taking time to join the conversation and leave a comment.

See you on the flip-side.

Original Song Project: Morgan Young - La Ranchera

Back in the saddle after far too long not playing. All work and no play makes flip-siders a dull bunch. Today's entry is something that is inspired by, but far removed from, The Zombies' I Remember When I Loved Her and The Who's The Good's Gone. I also should also throw a tip of the hat to the 13th Floor Elevators' Rollercoaster which I have been listening to a ton recently. Duane Eddy and Hugo Montenegro should get some props too. This little number is called La Ranchera. I hope you like.

Original Song Project: "Tres Piedras", Morgan Young

Here is a tune I have had kicking around my head since about 1994 when I was just a wee pup. I finally put it down on tape about 2 months ago. It's called Tres Piedras, which is a tiny town in northern New Mexico I used to frequent.

The Flip-Side Original Song Project: "The Last Dance at Ipatiev" by Morgan Young

In the spirit of "never ask someone to do something you yourself are not willing to do," I'll be the first to post an original song. The song is an instrumental entitled The Last Dance at Ipatiev,
and, in addition to my "musicianship", features a one-word contribution from my daughter, Olivia. It includes two guitar tracks, one piano track and one triangle track. (Yep, a whole track for my son's toy triangle.) The guitar is a 1999 Gibson SJ200 and the piano is an 1800's era piano that came with our house. She's out-of-tune, but I kinda like it that way. I hope you enjoy. Bonus points for anyone who can decipher the title.

Song of the Week: "Thunderstorms & Neon Signs", Wayne Hancock

Imagine for a moment, you are traveling alone. It can be anywhere you want. Anywhere in the World. You've been traveling this path for days now. This is a lonesome travel. Not an "ideal vacation" travel. I don't care your mode of transportation. You can be gliding along in a '63 Cadillac, or saddled high upon a palomino, or running on cruise control in your minivan, or walking with a pack on your back. That's entirely up to you. Imagine again, you come over a gentle hill and take in the landscape ahead of you. Nobody is in sight. Your mind fills with a strange mix of emotions: awe, emptiness, a sense of being, loneliness, purposeful, separate, grandeur, insignifigance. Now tell me, where are you? And tell me one more thing, to what are you listening?

Me? I'm in sight of the lonely little town of Austin, Nevada. It's just off of isolated Highway 50, on the Eastern edge of the Silver State. It's just a speck of a town perched on a red, dusty hill and it looks as if it was created by Hollywood set builders making the next great Western film starring Glenn Ford. This is nobody's destination. At least not on purpose. But to be sure, it grabs your attention. And to be sure, at this sight I'm listening to some good old lonesome Western Honky Tonk music. It's a unique form of music. It's American. Nobody else does it and nobody else can. The British can't do it. Nor can the French. They don't have the same history with the Manifest Destiny experience. This is the music of open plains, diesel driven roads, burnt coffee, and beer soaked hardwood floors. This is the music you listen to as you drink to celebrate hard fought memories that keep you going late at night. But it's also the music to which you drink to forget all those other memories. The memories that put you on this lonesome road in the first place.

This is the music of Wayne Hancock. And this is the title song from his 1995 debut album, Thunderstorms and Neon Signs. In one breath, it's celebration; in the next despondence. It's up to you to decide which emotion. "There's a big black cloud blowin' in from the West. I've been drivin' all day, I sure could use some rest. There's a motel up ahead where I can unwind, 'cause I sure do love thunderstorms and neon signs."

Make no mistake, in a world of pretenders, Wayne Hancock is the real deal. Hancock's voice and dusty accent naturally take the listener, to paraphrase the song, to another time. What time that is, I don't know. But it's a voice from the past. A voice you used to know but can't quite pinpoint. It's a voice that says more in the one second of Buddy Holly-like hiccup or off note twang accenting the last gasp of a syllable than most artists can say in an entire album. And the band is first rate. What more does a weary traveler need? A hard slapping upright bass, country-swing guitar runs which impeccably blend that improbable mix of hillbilly and jazz, and, of course, that most lonesome of all the instruments, the pedal steel. A guitar that bends your heart as hard as it bends the gliding notes. 

To note, unlike each of the previous song of the week entrants, you can go see Wayne Hancock at your local bar. He's alive, he's touring, and he's damn good.

So, give Thunderstorms and Neon Signs a quick spin and let me know exactly where your imagined solitary-travel exercise took you...and what song you are listening to. Really, I would love to know.