Elmo & Patsy: Hit and Run

 Nuance. Subtlety. Understatement. These are three words that don't apply to the music of Elmo & Patsy.

"Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" was first released in 1979, and with each subsequent Christmas season, the song became more widely known until it eventually became a Christmas standard, like "Santa Baby" and that chestnut song.

Despite being perennially played, the song only charted once, reaching #87 in 1998. Here's the video:

As subtle as a nutcracker's jaws.

I've got to admit, the video puts a little different spin on Grandpa's relationship with Cousin Mel than I would have guessed from just listening to the song. Watching football and playing cards, I was picturing more of a Vic Tayback-ish Cousin Mel, not a woman with cleavage for Grandpa to ogle.

Elmo and Patsy got divorced in 1985. (I'm not sure if Cousin Mel had anything to do with it.) After the divorce, Elmo Shropshire continued to record under the name of Dr. Elmo. (He is a veterinarian.) He even re-recorded "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" without his ex-wife, Patsy Trigg.

Dr. Elmo has attempted many times to score another hit, but without any success. In 1992 he tried to capitalize on the Grandma theme once again with a song called "Grandma's Killer Fruitcake," It was not a popular song.

Ah, the nuance!

But, Dr. Elmo wasn't satisfied with Grandma-related holiday songs. No, he decided to try his hand at a heartfelt, feel-good patriotic holiday ballad. It's a song called "Christmas All Across the USA."

Beware the giant floating head!

When listening to this song, it doesn't take long to come to the realization that Dr. Elmo has a singing voice meant for novelty songs. (Sadly, Dr. Elmo is no Lee Greenwood.) (I doubt Patsy is, either.)

VERDICT: Oh, hell no! Not even Cousin Mel thinks Elmo & Patsy should have another hit.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Alan O'Day: She Said, "Whaaaat?"

 Imaginary lovers never turn you down. (When all the others turn you away, they're around.) 

That's what the Atlanta Rhythm Section says, anyway. (Without the parenthesis. I added the parenthesis.) (I do that occasionally.) And, apparently it's a philosophy that Alan O'Day wholeheartedly agrees with. 

In 1977, Alan O'Day took his ode to making love to figments of his imagination, "Undercover Angel," all the way to #1 on the Billboard charts. It seems his song struck a chord with enough of the lonely record-buying public to outsell every other song in the land for at least one week.

The call him the dream man. (But only because he dreams a lot.)

Really, who among us hasn't dreamed of a fantasy woman demandingly shouting, "love me, love me, love me!"

Oddly enough, this wasn't the first time Alan O'Day had written a number one hit about a person with an imaginary lover. He wrote the song "Angie Baby," which Helen Reddy topped the charts with in 1974. It's about a crazy girl who dances with imaginary lovers in her bedroom at night, until one day when her creepy, peeping-tom neighbor comes over to rape her, but she somehow manages to shrink him down so small that he now lives in her radio. (No, I am not drunk, and no, I did not make up that last sentence.) You don't believe me? Here's Helen to tell you the story:

Living in a world of make believe? Well, maybe.

(Somehow this song goes to #1 in 1974, but that same year "Piano Man" peaks at #25. What exactly were they smoking in 1974?)

So, with two #1 hits about imaginary lovers under his belt (so to speak), the question becomes can Alan O'Day write a hit that doesn't tap into his lonely fantasies? Apparently not. Alan's follow up to "Undercover Angel" was a disturbing little song called "Started Out Dancing, Ended Up Making Love." The song includes these lovely lyrics:

"I can see her body

Pushing at her clothes

Dancing up a sweat now

And I wonder if she knows

That I want her so bad I'm in physical pain

My imagination taking over again

Started out dancing

Ended up making love

That's what I'm thinking of"

"Started Out Dancing, Ended Up Making Love" sputtered out at #73 on the charts, proving that there is a limit to the amount of deluded fantasies people are willing to put up with. (Unless Mr. Roarke and Tattoo are involved.) 

After that, Alan O'Day never made it on the charts in the United States again, although he did have a minor hit in Australia with a song called "Skinny Girls." ("Skinny Girls" sounds like someone put "Short People," Dr. Dimento, and anorexia together in a blender and hit puree.) 

But just because he didn't chart again, it doesn't mean his musical career was over. Alan O'Day would go on to co-write almost 100 songs for the television show Muppet Babies, including a song titled "Good Things Happen In the Dark," which, thankfully, does not include any verses about imaginary sexual partners.

VERDICT: Deservedly a one-hit wonder. (Although that's not saying he didn't imagine he had more hits, many of which he might have made love to.)

Strawberry Alarm Clock: Time to Wake Up!

 "Incense and Peppermints" is one of the best songs to come out of the psychedelic sixties music scene. It's a damn fine song! Just take a listen (and a look) and you'll find that it's a finely crafted song.

It's psychedelightful!

It's got a groovy organ, jamming guitar, and even a quick little hint of cowbell. (At 1:04 of the video.) Some great lyrics. ("Who cares what games we choose? Little to win but nothing to lose." "Beatniks and politics, nothing is new. A yardstick for lunatics, one point of view.") And then there's the "sha-la-la" wind-down outro. Surely with a song this great, the Strawberry Alarm Clock would be around for a long time, making hit after hit!

Nope. Just the one hit.

When I did some digging, the reason the Strawberry Alarm Clock remained just a one hit wonder seemed pretty obvious: they didn't sing their own hit! "Incense and Peppermints" was sung by a 16 year-old named Greg Munford, who happened to be in the studio when the band was recording the song. Why did Greg sing it instead of someone from the band? Either because the band hated the lyrics, or because "the song wasn't fitting any of" the band members. 

Anyway, the fact that nobody from Strawberry Alarm Clock sang the one hit by the group is a pretty obvious reason why they only had one hit, right? Subsequent releases leaned into the psychedelia a little too much, like the single "Sit With the Guru," which is about as pretentious as you might guess from looking at the title. And then there's "The Birdman of Alkatrash," the song that "Incense and Peppermints" was supposed to be the b-side for. It's slightly amusing, and has a good organ solo, but the rest of the music is so repetitive that its 2:10 running time seems like a prison sentence. 

So, that was it--Strawberry Alarm Clock most definitely deserved their one hit wonder status. No doubt about it.

But then, I listened to one more song, "Tomorrow," which managed to get as high as #23 on the charts in early 1968. And I changed my mind.

Guru optional.

Why wasn't this a bigger hit? The drums alone should have carried it into the top ten! And the there's the organ/guitar/drum instrumental break, and the echo "wow" ending. It's a fine little example of psychedeliciousness.

VERDICT: Should have had at least one more hit. (Maybe even more if they could have found more random teenagers to sing all their songs.) 

Chumbawamba: Re-Thumping the Tub

 You've sung it. I've sung it. Pretty much everyone you know this side of Aunt Bev has sung it. (Yes, even Homer Simpson has sung it.)

"Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba is one of the all-time best sing-along songs. It's so great that it has two distinct sing-along choruses, the "I get knocked down" chorus, and the "I drink a whiskey drink" chorus. It's really surprising that the song only reached #6 on the Billboard charts. I doubt there are five more memorable songs came out that whole year.

He'll be singing, when he's winning.

But that's par for the course for Chumbawamba. The band had been together since 1982, but I had never heard of them until "Tubthumping" grabbed my attention in 1997. Because I liked the song so much, I bought the album it came from, "Tubthumper." (1997 was in that no-man's land when if you liked a song you had to buy the entire album, because it was after the time of 45 singles, after the time even of cassette singles, but before the time of iTunes.) (Sure, there was a Napster time in there somewhere, but not for me because I was too computer illiterate and not hip enough to steal music off of the interwebs.)

When I listened to most of the songs on the album, I wasn't overly impressed. Chumbawamba was an odd group, and they filled in the moments between songs with strange rantings and bizarre noises. That said, I did find two other songs on the album to be quite good. One of them, "Amnesia," was the song Chumbawamba released as the official follow-up to "Tubthumping." It's a solid song with some good horn work, some rocking guitar, and a nice tempo, but it was only able to reach #60 on the charts. (The people of 1998 were too busy gettin' jiggy with the song from Titanic to pay attention to an actual good song.) To be fair, though, the chorus of "Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?" is not as sing-alongable as "I get knocked down."

"I don't remember." (And neither did enough other people.)

But, as much as I like "Amnesia," the song that really should have been a big hit was "Scapegoat." Again, this song has some rocking guitars, nice use of some horns, and a very danceable techno beat. (Well, danceable by someone who can actually dance, I'm assuming.) And then there are the lyrics, which are quite applicable in today's society, with a chorus of "There's always someone else for you to blame."

I am not to blame for the fact that the baby on this album cover photo is not centered.

So, who do we blame for Chumbawamba's one-hit wonder status? Someone else, because "Scapegoat" and "Amnesia" are both quite worthy of being mega-hits.

Chumbawamba kept releasing albums until finally calling it quits in 2012. That's thirty years together as a band, with only one real hit. I've taken a quick listen to a few of their songs from before they thumped any tubs, and there's some decent stuff, like "I Never Gave Up," "The Digger's Song," and "Enough Is Enough." And, after they thumped their tubs, they had a few more good songs, like "El Fusildo," "She's Got All the Friends That Money Can Buy," and "Add Me." Chumbawamba had a good sense of humor, fine songwriting ability, and excellent musicianship. 

Verdict: Chumbawamba should have thumped many more tubs than they did.

Joey Scarbury: Definitely Believable

 "The Greatest American Hero" was a delightful television show. It had a lot going for it: a cool, original premise; a grumpy sidekick; a beautiful, no-nonsense girlfriend; and a phenomenal blonde afro! But that's not all--it also had a fantastic theme song. 

Mike Post composed the theme song to "The Greatest American Hero." That's no surprise, because Mike Post wrote or co-wrote a plethora of great American television theme songs, from "The Rockford Files," to "Magnum, P.I.," to "Hill Street Blues," to "Law & Order." 

Most of those songs were instrumentals, but for "The Greatest American Hero," Post's cohort Stephen Geyer busted out some lyrics, too. I don't know why Mike or Stephen didn't sing the song themselves, maybe they don't have good singing voices; maybe they owed somebody a favor; maybe Mike was too busy writing the theme song for "The A-Team" with his usual writing partner, Pete Carpenter. For whatever reason, the chore of singing the theme to "The Greatest American Hero" went to Joey Scarbury. And he did a great job with it.

You will believe a dude with a blonde afro can fly! (Unless you're the two unimpressed girls with similar hairdos from this absolutely odd video.)

The song flew up the charts, peaking for two weeks at #2 on the Hot 100, kept out of the top spot only by the "Endless Love" of the record buying public for the music of Diana Ross and Lionel Richie. It's an excellent song--upbeat, optimistic, and sing-alongable. 

Unfortunately, Joey's follow-up attempt was not upbeat, optimistic, or sing-alongable. Or good. "When She Dances" is a song about a woman who is completely plain, unnoticeable, and non-descript--except for when she is dancing. The song has a bit of a country feel to it. It almost sounds like a song Ronnie Milsap would record as a b-side, only to leave off the album because it's not quite good enough. "When She Dances" did manage to inch its way up to #49 on the Billboard Charts in late 1981, but no one has given the song a single thought since.

To be fair, Joey does hit a pretty impressive note at around the 2:30 mark, but other than that....

You might be thinking, well, what Joey Scarbury needed to strike lightning twice and get another hit would be to team up with Mike Post and Stephen Geyer again. Except he did team up with them again, and the result was the worst television theme song in the history of television theme songs!

In September of 1983 the television show Hardcastle and McCormick, about a retired judge and his ex-con buddy tracking down criminals, premiered. It featured a hard-rocking theme song, "Drive," written by Post and Geyer, and sung by a man named David Morgan. It was an excellent theme song. But then, for some unknown reason, the start of the second season featured a different theme song, "Back to Back," which was also written by Post and Geyer, but this time sung by Joey Scarbury. 

Compared to "Drive," Scarbury's "Back to Back" was a snoozefest. Fans of the show complained loudly enough that by the 13th episode of the second season, "Back to Back" was removed and replaced again by the rightful theme song, "Drive."

Really, which show would you rather watch? This one:

Drive!

Or, this one:

Snooze.

There is a reason the public demanded to have the first song back again.

After the Hardcastle and McCormick debacle, Joey Scarbury's next highlight was being the co-lead singer for the song "It's Flashbeagle" from the It's Flashbeagle, Charlie Brown television special. Do you think I'm making that up? I assure you, I am not.

Who wore it better, Snoopy or Jennifer Beals?

VERDICT: Believe it or not, while he had a well-earned, long career as a talented session singer, Joey Scarbury is deservedly a one-hit wonder.

Eiffel 65: Da Ba De, Da Ba Don't

 Sometimes a song comes along that demands to be heard because the lyrics are so insightful and thought-provoking that they can't be ignored. "Blue" by Eiffel 65 is not one of those songs.

What color was that again?

No, what Eiffel 65 did with "Blue" is they found a great dance beat and topped it off by saying the word "blue" about a gazillion times. (30 times, to be exact.) (And yes, 30 is much closer to a gazillion than you had previously thought.) And then, they finished it off with the nonsense lyrics "da ba de" repeated ad nauseam. 

And there's nothing wrong with that. This formula led to a song that reached all the way to #6 on the Billboard charts in the United States, and is instantly recognizable to anyone who has ever heard it more than once. 

The problem comes when trying to replicate that formula. "Da ba de" lyrics are fine once, but that's not a well that can be dipped in again. So, with nonsense lyrics off the table, Eiffel 65 decided to try the next best thing: repetition, repetition, repetition!

The follow-up to "Blue" was called "Move Your Body." If you thought the usage of the word "blue" was excessive in "Blue," you'll be driven mind-numbingly mad by the sheer number of times the word "body" is used in "Move Your Body." (I started to count how many times it was used, but I gave up because my brain started to hurt.)

Wonder Triplet powers: Activate!

 "Move Your Body" turned out to be a huge hit--in some parts of the world. It reached #1 in Austria, Denmark, France, Italy, and Spain. (Proving, once again, that Austria, Denmark, France, Italy, and Spain are not perfect.) The song, however, did not crack the Billboard Hot 100 in the United States. (Proving, once again, that I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free.) (The song did reach #36 on something called the American Contemporary Hit Radio Chart, proving, once again, that if you make enough lists, everything will eventually be on at least one of them.)

VERDICT: Despite what the Austrians, Danes, French, Italians, and Spaniards think, "Move Your Body" is a horrible song. Eiffel 65 deserves to be a one-hit wonder.

Before I leave Eiffel 65, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that the little blue alien from the videos has a name: Zorotl. [WARNING: Prolonged exposure to Zorotl may result in heart palpitations, diarrhea, and skin discoloration. Stay away from Zorotl if you are allergic to Zorotl. Before dancing with Zorotl, please consult your physician.]

Starbuck: Masters of the Mallet

 Before we get started here, let me first clear up something about Starbuck. Starbuck is the name of a band--it is not the name of a large chain of coffee shops. That would be Starbucks, with an 's' at the end. (Try to Google the band 'Starbuck' and you'll see a lot of images of coffee cups.)

Also, the Starbuck I'm referring to here is a band, and not a character from the television series Battlestar Galactica played by the unabashedly handsome actor Dirk Benedict. Nor am I referencing the character named Starbuck played in the reboot of Battlestar Galactica by the actress Katee Sackhoff. (Why is it that sci-fi nerdboys get so upset when a character is changed from a male to a female? What is so bothersome about it? Heck, I think it's usually a great choice.) (And now I've got myself wanting to see a female version of Scotty from Star Trek.)

No, I'm talking about the pop-rock music group. Starbuck shot all the way to #3 on the charts in 1976 with a smooth little song called "Moonlight Feels Right."

Everyone should have a giant neon sign with their name on it following them around wherever they go.

If you watch the video, the first thing you'll notice is that the lead singer, Bruce Blackman, bears a passing resemblance to the watermelon whacking comedian Gallagher. The similarities are amusing, but whatever you do, do not try to find out more background information on Gallagher, because you might find yourself down a Google rabbit hole involving feuding brothers, lawyers, court battles, two comedians hitting watermelons with mallets, and possibly even England's strange lingering fascination with the rock band Oasis and even more feuding brothers.

And speaking of mallets, the most interesting thing about the band Starbuck and the song "Moonlight Feels Right" is the extended marimba solo.

Here is where I cop to my ignorance: before researching for this post, I had no idea what a marimba was. Oh, I had heard of the marimba.  I even had an album or two by the Baja Marimba Band in my record collection. I was pretty sure the marimba was a musical instrument, but I didn't know what kind of a musical instrument it was. To be honest, I thought it was some kind of Mexican tambourine. (And no, I have no idea what the difference might be between a Mexican tambourine and an American tambourine.) 

So, when I heard this song and watched the video, I thought the guy in the black tights with his chest exposed was playing the xylophone. I was, of course, wrong. Bo Wagner of Starbuck plays the marimba, not the xylophone. Could he have played the xylophone? Probably. But, apparently there are strict lines drawn in the world of mallet percussionists, with the marimba, the xylophone, the glockenspiel, and the vibraphone each having their own adherents. Each instrument is distinct, and you darn well better not get them mixed up or you might take a mallet to the noggin! (It's kind of like calling a West Virginian a Virginian--you will hear about it!)

All keyboard instrument photos from lonestarpercussion.com (photos not to scale)

[For more information about the differences between these instruments, you can read an informative and whimsical post at this link: https://whimsicallytheoretical.com/2017/04/10/sta-khux-10-secret-whispers-keyboard-mallet-percussion-family/]

Of course, there are some who say that all marimbas are part of the xylophone family, so if you want to say Bo Wagner from Starbuck plays a mean xylophone, who am I to stop you? Just know that you might incur the wrath of a certain subset of marimbaists. (Bo is also a snazzy dresser, a fact that no one can argue!)

So, after you have hit it big with a song featuring a lengthy marimba solo, how do you follow it up? Why, another song with a marimba solo, of course! And if that doesn't work, try another song with a marimba solo. And another. And another. 

Starbuck struck the charts four more times with marimba-laced music, but only one of those songs climbed high enough to get a mention on Casey Kasem's weekly radio countdown. "Everybody Be Dancin'" peaked at #38 in 1977.

 

Not only does this song have a marimba solo, it also features frequent usage of the vocoder, for that wonderful 1970's robotic voice special effect! The song has a bit of a Doobie Brothers/Steely Dan feel to it, plus there's marimba and robot voices. What's not to love? Heck, it even be having some poor grammar! But, there's something missing. It's almost like they're trying a bit too hard to piece together another hit.

Verdict: #38 is about right for "Everybody Be Dancin'." It's like if someone hit a watermelon with a sledgehammer, but the watermelon wasn't quite ripe enough to produce as big of a splatter as desired. (Maybe if they unleashed a Cylon on the marimba they'd have fared better.) (A female Cylon, of course.)

John Stewart: (Not That John Stewart)

Hey, it's John Stewart! The famous comedian most widely known for his long-running stint as the host of The Daily Show! His quick wit and self-deprecating style was instrumental in making the fake news more important than the real news long before "fake news" was even a thing! He's beloved by many and...wait, what's that? Not that John Stewart? There's another John Stewart. Oh, yeah, I remember that song.

"Well my buddy Ken Bass
he's a workin', fartin' gas,
and he lets 250 in an hour.
He's got rhythm in his butt
and he sounds just like a slut,
even lets 'em go in the shower.

Farting up the freeway, stinkin' up the road.
'Cause people out there really let them go.

Driving to McCammon, stinkin' up the road.
'Cause people out there really let them go.
Ewwwww, yeah!"

There's Gold in them there sunglasses!

John Stewart (no relation to John Stewart) went to #5 with the song "Gold" in 1979. In one sense, it was kind of amazing, because John Stewart looked a lot like Garry Shandling, and there's not really room enough for two people who look like Garry Shandling to make it big.

On the other hand, maybe the reason John Stewart (no relation to Stephen Colbert) had a big hit was because he had Stevie Nicks singing backup vocals. (She was kind of a big deal.) So, how does an unknown like John Stewart get a big star like Stevie Nicks to sing background vocals for him? Well, John Stewart (no relation to Martha Stewart) wasn't exactly an unknown. He spent many years in the 1960s as a folk music hero as a part (one-third, to be exact) of the Kingston Trio. (Actually, it was more like one-sixth, because he took the place of founding Kingston Trio member Dave Guard, who left the group to do other folk-singy things.) Aside from that, John Stewart (no relation to Rod Stewart) wrote the huge hit "Daydream Believer" for the Monkees!

After the success of "Gold," Stewart (no relation to Stewart Copeland) had a couple of minor hits, with "Midnight Wind," featuring more background singing from Stevie Nicks, getting to #28, and "Lost Her In the Sun" peaking at #34. I listened to a lot of radio back in 1979, but "Midnight Wind" doesn't sound the least bit familiar to me. To be honest, aside from some wailing from Stevie and an opening lyric of "Come on down, Miranda," the song doesn't really have a lot to offer. (Although, I'll admit that "Come on down, Miranda," is a helluva way to start a song!)

Instead, I'm going to focus on the song that I do vaguely remember: "Lost Her In the Sun."

Maybe he wouldn't have lost her in the sun if he was still wearing those shades.

I don't think I had heard or thought of this song for almost 40 years, but when I read the title, the chorus came back to my mind. That should count for something, shouldn't it? It's not a great song, but it's not a bad song, either.

Stewart (no relation to Howard Cosell) would go on to release well over 30 more albums before he passed away in 2008, but he never hit the charts with any of them. According to Wikipedia (no relation to Encyclopedia Brown) in his later years he grew to hate the song "Gold" and refused to sing it when he performed at concerts. Can you imagine going to a John Stewart concert and not hearing "Gold?" Or at the very least not hear him make fun of Bill O'Reilly?

Verdict: iffy. "Lost Her In the Sun" is rememberable, but not memorable.

Deep Blue Something: And I Said, "What About Another Hit Song?"

I've never seen the movie "Breakfast At Tiffany's." It was a very popular movie, A lot of people have seen it. It put Audrey Hepburn on the map. (Go ahead, look at the map. I dare you.) Of course, these days it's almost best known for Mickey Rooney's offensive portrayal of a Japanese man. (No one has ever accused Mickey Rooney of subtlety.) (Not even George Peppard.)

When the band Deep Blue Something released the song "Breakfast At Tiffany's" in the summer of 1995, it got a lot of airplay. It had some peppy guitar work; repeatable, sing-a-longable lyrics, and lots of mentions of a 34 year-old movie that most of the people singing along had heard of but never seen. It peaked at #5 on the Billboard charts.

Deep Blue Something is led by the brothers Todd Pipes and Toby Pipes. Nice pipes, Pipes!

The album the song came from, "Home," is really quite an excellent album. The title song, "Home," sets a nice, melodic mood. "Gammer Gerten's Needle" (yes, I said "Gammer Gerten's Needle!") is a nice instrumental song, the kind no one makes anymore. While "Red Light," "Done," and "Song to Make Love To," are all fast-paced rockers that are excellent to exercise to. (Although I must admit I've never tried to make love to "Song to Make Love To.")

Unfortunately, Deep Blue Something (or their record label) decided not to release any of those songs as the follow-up to "Breakfast At Tiffany's." They instead went with the unorthodox decision to release the seventh best song from the album next. "Halo" was not a hit, bubbling under the Hot 100 at #102. (It wasn't helped by the non-descript, camera-jerking, short attention span video.)

Deep Blue Something then fell into some legal and label problems, and didn't release another album in the United States until 2001, an album they titled, "Deep Blue Something." (Don't even get me started on how I feel about self-titled albums! What a waste of a chance to come up with a creative album name! A waste, I say!) To promote the inadequately-named album, the band made some appearances at alternative radio stations. That's where I heard them do an acoustic performance of their would-be next hit, "She Is." And hey, it's a fantastic song! It grabbed me on my first listen, and I ran directly to the store and bought the album. (Well, I may have stopped at Arby's first.)

"She Is" was co-written by fellow one-hit wonder Matthew Wilder.

It's an excellent song, but the rest of the album is pretty pedestrian, with the exception of "Page Me Wolverine." And that was pretty much the end of Deep Blue Something.

Verdict: It's too bad Deep Blue Something is a one-hit wonder, because they definitely had songs worthy of more hits.

Henry Gross: More Than Just Songs About Dead Dogs

Henry Gross is best known for writing and singing a song about a dead dog. It wasn't even his own dog--he wrote and sang about someone else's dead dog. Sure, the fact that the dead dog belonged to Carl Wilson of the Beach Boys does make things sound a little more interesting, but it's still a song about someone else's dead dog.

Un perro de mi amigo es muerte.

"Shannon" went all the way to #6 on the Billboard charts in early 1976. People really liked it when Henry Gross sang about someone else's dead dog.

You would think "Shannon" would be the highlight of the musical career of Henry Gross. What could be better for a one-hit wonder? Well, how about that time he opened for Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock? You see, Henry Gross was a founding member of the group Sha-Na-Na. And yes, Sha-Na-Na opened for Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock.

After "Shannon," Henry Gross next biggest hit was "Springtime Mama," which went to #37 in the summer of 1976. (Maybe it would have done better if it had been released in the springtime? Just saying.)

What, exactly, is the difference between a Mama and a Momma?

It's not a bad song. With a fun piano flourish at the beginning, it's a little reminiscent of early "Cold Spring Harbor" Billy Joel. Unfortunately for Henry, singing about being horny in the spring is not as commercially viable as singing about someone else's dead dog.

Verdict: Deserving of his one-hit wonder status. (Perhaps he should have gotten himself acquainted with John Fogerty's cat.)

The Second Hits of One-Hit Wonders

It's not easy to create a hit song. (Just ask Danglecrotch, the Seminal Fluids, Buck Tucker, or Phillip Michael Thomas.)

But, even if you are able to make a popular song that shoots its way up the charts, it's still not very easy to create a second hit song. (Just ask Peter Schilling, Chumbawamba, Dexy's Midnight Runners, or Don Johnson.)

With this series of posts, I'll be attempting to take a look at some one-hit wonders to see if any of them had any other songs that might have been good enough to garner some public attention. It might be the song they released right after their hit, or it might be a song from several years later.

And, for my purposes here, I'm going to be the one to determine what constitutes a second hit. Just because a song made the charts doesn't mean it was a hit. Sure, Vanilla Ice may have made it all the way to #4 on the charts with "Play That Funky Music," but does anyone even remember his version of that song? No. Vanilla Ice had one hit, and that hit was "Ice Ice Baby."

If you take this journey with me, we might discover some very good songs. Or, we might be listening to a whole lot of derivative drivel. But maybe, just maybe, it might be interesting and/or fun.

My Response To Your Response To "It"

For over seven years, my friend Nardo and I have been pestering each other with lists of our 200 favorite songs. It's been amusing, fun, and only occasionally dangerous. When Nardo posted a write-up about his favorite song ever--an obscure ditty by a talentless hack--I thought we were finished with the odd little lists of songs. I was wrong.

Nardo recently sent me a new list of several songs. These were songs that he liked, but thought I might not be familiar with. It was a brilliant idea! I wonder who came up with it? Oh, that's right, it was me, many, many years ago, when I sent him tapes full of "The Best Songs You Ain't Never Heard."

I must admit, over the past several years I have learned (or been reacquainted with) a number of excellent songs by Nardo, including, but not limited to: Ca Plane Pour Moi by Plastic Bertrand, Foux Du FaFa by Flight of the Conchords. Be My Baby by Complex, Uncontrollable Urge by Devo, Hocus Pocus by Focus, Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider, SIM Hagar by Jerry Martin, and many, many more. So, the thought of him expanding my musical knowledge with even more fun, great and/or interesting songs has me very excited.

But, the next question became, "How do I respond to this?" The obvious answer would be to blatantly rip off Nardo's idea and list of few of the songs that I know which would most likely fit under the heading of "Best Songs You Ain't Never Heard." Songs like: One More Time by Jeff Lynne's ELO, Chemistry by Semisonic, The King Is Half-Undressed by Jellyfish, Hiroshima by Ben Folds, and/or Time of Our Life by Jeff Lynne's ELO. But, no, that's what would be expected. And the last thing I want to be is predictable. [EDITOR'S NOTE: That statement is not true. The last thing HondoJoe wants to be is a stripper working in a club that shares a parking lot with a 7-Eleven.]

So, I thought I'd change things up and go with a project I've pondered about over the years. We're all familiar with the one-hit wonders of popular music. But, have you ever wondered what the songs were that these one-hit wonders released in an attempt to have a second hit? Were they good songs that just never were able to catch on? Were they totally crappy songs that showed why the artist only had one hit? Is the reason these artists were one-hit wonders because they couldn't get another break, or because they didn't have any other songs that anyone wanted to listen to? It's an interesting question.

So, strap in and prepare yourself for: "The Second Hits of One-Hit Wonders!"