Song of the Week: "Golden Clouds", Flamin' Groovies

Listen - The Flamin' Groovies perform Golden Clouds.

San Francisco's Flamin' Groovies are one of those bands you have probably heard of, but never quite sure if you have heard them. Their albums were spotty, showing signs of brilliance right next to signs of "well, that was an interesting". Then their was the whole issue of being hard to peg in time. Some of their 70's albums sound very bluesy. Others sound like 60's power pop. Others sound like early punk. And then you add on that they had two different singers through the 70's and the Flamin Groovies brand becomes very hard to identify.

I first started poking around the periphery of the Groovies' record catalogue in the 80's. Flip-Side's Western Front Commander, Jack Hayden, and I used to take in many shows of groups like the Long Ryders, the Morlocks, and the Seahags in and around San Francisco. The Flamin Groovies' lead guitarist, Cyril Jordan was a regular at those shows, and, as he did with the Long Ryders one night at the long closed Keystone in Berkeley, he would occasionally jump on stage to perform a song. That night at the Keystone Jordon performed with the Long Ryders doing songs like the 1976 classic, Shake Some Action. Cyril Jordon later came up to me, Jack Hayden and a gal that was with us named Emily Owen and introduced himself. He was digging on our spot-on 60's look. He was a very unassuming man and high in energy. All that fueled me to look deeper at the Groovies.

My favorite song of theirs was immediately, and has remained, a song off of their self recorded debut 10"EP, Sneakers. It was recorded at San Francisco's Coast Records, the same place the Beau Brummels had churned out hits with Sly Stone at the board. The song is Golden Clouds and it opens with a buzz saw of fuzz guitar and then gives way to a bouncing Hofner bass and a beautiful warbly Telecaster playing a little Byrds like riff. Jordon's fuzz guitar remains but now recedes deep into the background. That is, until it gets to the multiple blistering leads. Frontman, Roy Loney sings with a cool understatement and gets some nice harmony support. It's just a damn cool song that I can listen to over and over again. I hope you dig it as much as we do here at Flip-Side's Rocky Mountain offices.

Have a groovie week.

Busker Days: "For a Ton of Gold" Vinnie 'Blue' De La Pruce

Vinnie, or Blue to his friends, is the first busker I recorded who relied greatly on his take. Hailing from New Orleans, he was displaced by the devastating flood of October 2005 we've come to know as Katrina. Somehow he ended up in San Francisco and he aint going back. To be precise, lately he finds himself laying down some blues right in the epicenter of SF, the Powell Street cable car turn-around. (That's right, he's street level to where I recorded the African musicians which can be heard here). Vinnie parks himself right next to the end of the line of Euro-touros eager to hop on a cable car, and maybe its because they've already endured the onslaught of mega-loud raptap dancers or the silver painted robo-mimes atop the milk cart, but these touros are mostly holding on to the green when they see Blue. He says lately money is slow and hard, the same I've heard from others. And I've watched them. Most pass by Blue, just another curiosity. I say, throw him some coin!

Blue plays a harp and sings through a combination of a small amp and a speaker phone, all powered by battery. Enjoy his minimalist blues tune, For a Ton of Gold, here.

Busker Days: "Anywhere in Love", The Ferocious Few

As I approached my usual stairway down to Montgomery BART the other day I was distracted by some noise from across the street.  Sounded like music.  What I found were two guys cranking out some hard-driving rock and roll with Market Street as their backdrop.  They go by the name Ferocious Few and consist of Daniel Aguilar on drums and tambourine and Francisco Fernandez on guitar and vocals.  Here's their number Anywhere in Love.  Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Busker Days: "It's Only Make Believe"

When I enter the Montgomery BART station in San Francisco’s financial district on my way home from work it’s a game of busker roulette. Sometimes there’s a guy delivering inspired gospel, clapping the beat in the main station, while other times I hear a distant garbled guitar and vocals in the opposite pedestrian tunnel. Many times it’s silent, save the shoeshine guy’s radio or the sudden BART agent announcements. Yesterday a scrawny weathered guy with cowboy boots and hat was swooning in tagalog (my guess) and recently there’s been an old man playing an erhu, a two string traditional Chinese fiddle. You never know.

If I’m real lucky, a couple of guys, one on a Gibson mandolin, the other on a Gibson LG1 or J200, will be plying their trade down in the tube station. Their musicianship is solid with the mandolin offering thoughtful fills and leads, but the showcase is the guitarist’s voice, in particular his upper register. When I hear it, inevitably my first thought is ‘liquid gold’ followed by the thought ‘get this man an agent!’ I always feel compelled to stop and listen (and donate, of course).

Recently I came with my digital recorder ready and asked the duo for permission to record, which they readily gave. The mandolinist prefaced the song by warning that it didn’t adequately showcase his partner’s voice. I beg to differ! Give a listen to their rendition of the first number 1 hit by Conway Twitty, It’s Only Make Believe, a b-side released in 1958.