I’m a big fan of sound effects albums, and also a giant Doctor Who nerd, so this find was particularly joyous for me! It has 30 tracks, some 3 or 4 minutes, while others are mere seconds. This record will transport you to a universe where every alien has a British accent, every turn ends up in an abandoned quarry, and where each machine hums and pulsates with Moog-ish rhythms. The humming and pulsating is what is caught best on this record,

For example, The Mandragora Helix. I can’t exactly remember what it was, but this is what it sounded like.

The Daleks’ Control Room is another exercise in pulsating electronic noises. The Daleks are salt-shaker-shaped robots who are the self-proclaimed “superior beings of the universe,” for all you non-Doctor Who fans out there. If I had to listen to this sound all day, I’d surrender my planet to them in an instant just to make it stop!

I remember this episode: the Zygons were a race of brownish creatures covered with suction cups. The inside of their ship was filled with controls that looked like dried up rubber cement globs with Christmas lights inside. Here’s what it sounded like:

The last one is a collection of sounds: the TARDIS observation screen is lowered, the TARDIS doors open, a sonic screwdriver, a fission gun from the Ark in Space, the Tesh gun from The Face of Evil, and finally a Gallifreyan staser gun:

The album’s liner notes give a helpful tip:
Time-Lord Note: A source of jelly-babies is recommended to complete the illusion of time travel.

This record is a journey back to a simpler time. The needle on the grooves transports you to a time when the word “gay” meant “frolicsome,” racism was quaint and funny, and 6-foot orange kangaroos wearing green eye shadow on ice skates were entertaining, instead of just mildly disturbing.

For your enjoyment is the story of one man who is “Little Brave Sambo” on the cover of the album, but reverts to his original name of “Little Black Sambo” once you hear the actual story.

Squaw: “This record heap big pile of buffalo dung. Maybe we save it.”
Brave: “HOW?” (har har har)

Ostriches never struck me as being very feminine or graceful. I guess I was wrong.

::shudder:: This is going to give me nightmares.

I was fascinated by the fact that this one record boasts *80* musical stories, games, and songs. 80 seemed like an awful lot. Then I realized, it takes about 10 seconds to sing “London Bridge,” so it makes sense that each cut on this record contains 3-4 songs. Anyway, probably because of the short attention spans, Uncle Tom (though he always introduces himself as Uncle DON), introduces every track by saying something like “hello there, this is Uncle Don. Let’s sing a song today, shall we”? Maybe Mom played only one track for Timmy every day. Or, maybe kids forget what they’re doing over the course of 3 minutes. Who knows?

The thing that makes this entire record the aural equivalent of a giant “bad touch” to me, though, is how Uncle Tom/Don giggles semi-maniacally throughout and after each track. I can’t decide if he’s being held at gunpoint and trying really really hard to sound jovial, or if he’s just totally insane. I completely dig his use of the word “humdinger,” though. Plus, there’s a song called “I Love My Pussy,” but unfortunately, my record is way too warped to record it. This record is so warped, in fact, that I can’t play side 2 at all because the warping is so high the record doesn’t even touch the spindle on that side.

So, put yourself in the shoes of a child on a rainy day who enjoys reading books in your perfectly-styled hair and pajamas, surrounded by candelabras and sinister looking sock puppets. The scary thing is that I have the very book that the children are so intently looking at– it the ~some company you wouldn’t expect~’s (Firestone tires?) Treasury of Folk Songs. He’s on the page that’s “Joy To the World.” I know because we used to sing from that book all the time when I was a kid, and I was obsessed with “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” probably because of its images of trampling grapes and its verse about “John Brown’s Body lies a mould’ring in the grave” (I was a morbid kid).

Look at the lower left-hand corner of the album cover. Santa Claus is embarassed by the fact that they say “cock”, “ass”, “gay” and “pussy” on this record more than on a whole season of South Park!

This track contains a fun little ditty about a man who gouged his eyes out on a thorn bush (Uncle Tom/Don explains why it’s funny at the end), a lesson in how domestic violence can be hilarious (as Punch and Judy have been demonstrating for hundreds of years), as well as a lengthy “This is the House that Jack Built”

the Queen of Hearts tells children that stealing is wrong (”I Wouldn’t do that either, would you?”), while “The Sixpence” is a lesson in the joys of consumerism, matrimony, and fiscal responsiblity. Lastly, “The Vegetable Song” celebrates our unsung heroes– vegetables.

This song is about “a funny little king” who lives on “Cannibal Isle.”

A cool thing about this record is that each cut is *exactly* the same length:

Johnny Denis & Netta Rogers - Studio and Stage

A Vegas lounge act.  I was… surprised by the timbre of Netta Rogers’ voice.  The back of this record contains an apology: “We took out the comedy patter which we feel does not improve after continued playing and we do hope you will play our record more than once… please!”

Dale McKenzie - Musically & Vocally Yours

Another lounge act, this time from Cleveland.  Dale “can adapt to any song of any era with tones of such sweet quality that you beg for more.”  The front of this record is signed  “To Deb, I hope you enjoy my humble efforts.”

Betty Bond Sings Pop

An album of “song-poems.”  Betty is more infamous for her ode to heroin addiction, Till Death Do Us Part (which you can hear here) but I was amused by this schlocky rip-off of Harper Valley PTA.  “Presently single, she has four children and has done secretarial work in addition to professional singing.”

Joe Barone and Lily Ann Carol Play For Their Friends

This album is subtitled “Live From Jupiter’s” and features Joe and Lily’s faces glued to shooting stars, orbiting a big orange planet.  Lilly sort of sounds like Cher crossed with Maya Rudolph doing Whitney Houston.

Come And Dance With The Tolmans to Johnny Brogan’s Orchestra

“For Ballroom Dancers and Musical Gourmets,” this record hails from Springfield, Massachusetts.  Ballroom Dancing records usually put me to sleep, but this whitebread version of One Note Samba drew me in with its hot dual guiro action.  I also wish I could show you Phyllis Tolman’s wig right now, which I absolutely promise to post a photo of at a later date.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, folks!  More to come…

When I was a little kid, we’d sometimes go to church with my grandparents on the weekend. Their church was a little tiny place in the middle of the woods where mostly farmers and poor people went. There was a Hammond instead of a pipe organ, the carpets were faded crimson red polyester, and the walls were lined with cheap wood paneling. My grandmother sang tenor (!) in the church choir, and my grandfather would play fiddle or musical saw along with the organ and piano. Anyway, the brash, earnest crooning of the Television’s Soul’s Harbor Singers reminds me of this church.

Google’s got nothing on these folks, but apparently they’re from Charleston, Maine. I love the Country Western arrangments, steel guitar, stiff postures and crazy hairdos. I also love how each little group of singers has its own stage name, like “The Singing Faloon’s.” Also check out Pastor Ronnie, who I’m sure caused impure thoughts in more than a couple parishioners. The track below appears to be sung by his dad.

Get it here (about 59Mb)

Jo Ann Castle was a staple on the Lawrence Welk show. She developed her lightning-fast keyboard skills at the age of five and was just as proficient on the accordion as the piano. Here’s one of her better albums– old Hawaiian standards played with a ragtime flair! Surf guitar rounds out the mix and gives a few of the tracks a slightly rock ‘n roll flavor– my favorites are “Lovely Hula Hands” and “Little Grass Shack.” You can visit Jo Ann’s official website here, and read about her (somewhat tragic) life story here.

Disclaimer: I found this record in very poor condition and even after agressive cleaning (with Windex, no less) and some digital noise reduction, some of the tracks aren’t as clean as the preview below. The music is so much fun, though, that you might not much care.

Grab it here (about 47Mb)

No, not that kind of foursome. But pour a few Martinis down these swingers’ throats and who knows what might happen? Tony definitely looks like he’s harboring a few dark secrets, and you just know Joe’s got a kinky side. Just remember that what happens at The Highlander Lounge stays at The Highlander Lounge. Featuring the sleaziest version of Light My Fire you’ve ever heard.

Get It Here (about 64Mb.)

from 1930 to 1979, Boston’s Native son Arthur Fiedler conducted the Boston Pops orchestra. In this time, he recorded a buttload of albums, including Fiedler on the Roof

and Irish Night at the Pops:

which both boast punny names and/or silly covers.However, the granddaddy of them all is Saturday Night Fiedler. In this album, Aahthah Fiedlah conducts disco arrangements of classical music pieces. *This* is why the man has a footbridge named after him (or did until recently when they pulled it down in the name of some construction project). Think “A Fifth of Beethoven” is good? Wait until you hear:

Meanwhile,

contains booty-shaking interpretations of Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in g Minor” and “Air on a G String.” Perfect for your next Bach-analia, I know this piece has turned me into a total Bachamaniac.

Recorded in 1979, when Arthur Fiedler was 84 years old, this is the last album he ever made, and the first and last disco album the Boston Pops ever recorded. He died a month later. About this album, Fiedler says (on the back cover):

From the moment I conducted the “Saturday Night Fiedler” suite on television in May, I knew the youngsters had done it again: disco–a marvelous, insistently rhythmic dance form to which all manner of music can be adapted from Bach to the Bee Gees. And this span of musical poles truly accents the universality of music.

Remember Dr. Ruth Westheimer? She’s the dwarf holocaust survivor who went from being an Israeli sniper in the 1950s to teaching us about “Good Sex” in the 1980s. She brought sex to the mainstream with her frankness and funny accent which everyone loved to mimic… I found this 45 at the Ithaca, NY Friends of the Library Book Sale several years ago. I was tickled, because not only was finding a rap song about Dr. Ruth too good to be true… but I went to high school with Laura Gersh, the Dr. Ruth impersonator on the record! She went from a rapping Dr. Ruth (she must have been 14 or 15 when this record was made) to playing the lead in a couple of school musicals, as I recall. Also, her mom was my guidance counsellor one year!

So, sit back and take in the Casio Tones and double entendres of this song. It’s really quite amazing. Don’t miss all the 80s references, like Madonna’s marriage to Sean Penn…

The B-side of this 7″ is The Hot Lunch Lady Blues, which was recorded live in the very same cafeteria where I ate lunch (or would be eating lunch, since I was too little for high school in 1985) every day.

Don’t forget to read the pun-tastic liner notes:

Were it not for the amazing fashion sense of our favorite be-mulleted keytarist, this record would not be on here. Mr. Bugnon plays amazingly Muzak-esque jazz lite that will guarantee you will be begging for the music you usually listen to in elevators. Complete with synthesized handclap beats, fake whipcracks, that drum machine beat that sounds like someone bouncing a basketball in a gym, Alex Bugnon delivers a full array of sounds you haven’t heard since the 80s. He even uses that little chirping sound that my Casio-imitation keyboard makes to keep time! Oh yeah, and don’t forget the gratuitous use of cowbell. Over all of this synthesized cocktail, Alex plays his fabulous keytar.

This piece is called “Dance of the Ghosts,” and is a good example of A.B.’s keytar-hero madness.

In “Human Epilogue,” there are some gospel singers which almost make up for the track’s spectacular un-funkiness. Almost.