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!"

A Brief (Ha!) History of the Electric Light Orchestra and the ELO Family of Musical Acts

It all started in Liverpool. There was this group called The Beatles. They were pretty good. And they were pretty influential.

I don't know how far away Birmingham is from Liverpool. (I could probably look it up, but I'm too lazy, and I want to keep this "brief.")(Ha!) But, the music coming from those four guys in Liverpool weighed heavy on the music scene in Birmingham.

There were several budding rock groups playing around Birmingham with varying degrees of success. At some point some musicians from several different bands combined together to form one "super" Birmingham band. The called themselves "The Move," the name signifying their "move" from other bands into one.

Roy Wood was the chief songwriter and bottle washer for the group. (I have no idea if that is accurate or not. He may have washed bottles. He might not have washed bottles. But, he did write songs.) Bev Bevan was the drummer. Carl Wayne would most frequently take the lead vocals. And Trevor Burton and Ace Kefford were around to do Trevor-ish and Ace-ish things, like play guitar, or bass, or sport a poofy blonde afro.

Back Row: Bev Bevan (and his ascot), Roy Wood
Front Row: Blonde afroed Ace (or Trevor), Carl Wayne (and his ascot), Afroed Trevor (or Ace)

The Move started releasing singles and placed several songs on the British charts. Songs like "Flowers In the Rain," "Fire Brigade," and "Night of Fear." They finally reached all the way to #1 on the British charts with "Blackberry Way." Unfortunately, none of these songs even made a dent on the US charts.

As The Move was enjoying their British success, another group started milling about the Birmingham scene. The Idle Race was led by a young lad who was chief singer, songwriter, guitarist, and piano player. (He was not, however, a bottle washer. He never washed a bottle, and still hasn't to this day.) This lad's name was Jeff Lynne.

The Idle Race put out a couple of albums with some really good songs on them, like "The Birthday," "Girl At the Window," "Come With Me," "On With the Show," and "Lucky." But, the Idle Race had about as much success on the British charts as The Move did on the American charts: none.

The Idle Race, featuring some guy, some guy, Jeff Lynne and his 1960's afro, and some other guy.

Meanwhile, there was some moving going on at The Move. Despite (or because of) the success of "Blackberry Way," Trevor and/or Ace didn't like the direction the band was taking, thinking they were being a bit too "pop"-ish. (Sorry, but I get Trevor and Ace confused. Two skinny white guys with afros. My apologies.) In any case, both were soon out of the band.

Jeff Lynne spurned at least one offer to join The Move, but eventually he made the move to The Move. (Probably due to the lack of sales of Idle Race albums.) Also joining The Move around this time was bassist Rick Price. (Don't worry, you don't have to remember his name because it won't be on the test.) (Probably.)

While Trevor and/or Ace were complaining about the band becoming too "pop," singer Carl Wayne was pushing to go even softer than that. Wayne fancied himself a crooner. (Whether he fancied himself a fancy crooner I cannot say.) Apparently, he wanted to be Englebert Humperdinck. (Don't we all!!!) I've seen pictures of Carl Wayne wearing ascots. I'm not sure how frequently he wore an ascot, but the fact that he ever wore one probably contributed to his desire to croon. I just don't know if the crooning led to the ascot wearing, or the ascot wearing led to the crooning. (I wonder if Freddie from Scooby Doo ever had the desire to croon?)

Wayne contributed to The Move's album "Shazam!" But, by the time the next album, "Looking On," came out, he was on the outside looking in.

M: Carl Wayne
O: Roy Wood
V: Rick Price?
E. Bev Bevan

As Carl Wayne was getting phased out, chief songwriter Roy Wood was doing more and more of the lead singing. Roy Wood was never accused of being a crooner. His voice was jagged and raspy, and he had a much harder edge than Carl Wayne's warbling.

As he began singing more, Wood relinquished some of his grasp on the songwriting duties. (He even let Rick Price do some of the bottle washing.) The album "Looking On" was almost evenly split between songs written by Wood and songs written by Jeff Lynne. (Even drummer Bev Bevan managed to write a couple of songs for the album.) Lynne took lead singing chores on his own compositions, and Wood sang the rest.

The Move's next (and final full studio) album, "Message From the Country," also saw the songwriting duties and lead singing split between Wood and Lynne.

They both played around with different instrumental experiments in their songs, most notably Roy Wood's rock and roll oboe on the song "It Wasn't My Idea to Dance." The two talked about trying a sound with full or partial orchestration, citing the influence of "Strawberry Fields Forever" by The Beatles.

As they pounded out a few more singles for The Move, Wood and Lynne worked on this side project idea. (One of those last singles The Move pounded out was a Jeff Lynne song called "Do Ya," which turned out to be the only song by The Move to ever chart on the American Billboard Hot 100, climbing all the way up to #93.)

Finally, The Move's side project, called the Electric Light Orchestra, featuring Roy Wood, Jeff Lynne, and Bev Bevan, was ready to be unleashed upon the world! The world didn't really care too much. Response was tepid. (Or, as the kids today would say, "meh.")

The album's name, like many debut albums, was supposed to be the self-titled name of the group, "Electric Light Orchestra." (Personally, I can't stand or understand this trend. Come on! You are creative people! You have a finite number of albums you'll be able to name over your career, please think of something clever!) But, because of a mix-up on a missed call and a message, the album ended up titled "No Answer" in America. (Which, in my opinion, is a much better name than just rehashing the name of the band.)

Like the last two albums from The Move, there was a pretty equal split between Jeff Lynne songs and Roy Wood songs, "10538 Overture" and "Mr. Radio" representing the best of the Lynne stuff, and "Jumpin' Biz" and the bombastic "Battle of Marston Moor" being the best by Wood.

As they made the album and spent much time in the studio dubbing and over-dubbing the violins, cellos, oboes, and such, Wood and Lynne came to the conclusion that there were "too many cooks in the kitchen." Everything I've read makes it seem like it was a mutual decision. Roy Wood left the band, leaving ELO to be Jeff Lynne's baby. (With Bev Bevan on the drums.)

Roy Wood put out a few solo albums and formed his own band, named Wizzard (and later "Wizzo.") He had a few minor hits in England, but nothing on the level of his success with The Move, and certainly not in line with what would happen later with ELO in America and around the world.

Not someone you want to meet in a dark alley.

That's not to say Roy Wood wasn't influential. His use of face painting pre-dated KISS by several years. And, early Rob Zombie sure looks like a Roy Wood wannabe.

Out of the Woods

The Electric Light Orchestra's second album, titled "Electric Light Orchestra II," (come on, Jeff! Show a little creativity!) was all Jeff Lynne all the time. (Almost.)

It's mostly forgettable, except for three songs. "Mama" is a nice ballad. The eleven-minute long anti-war screed "Kuiama" is actually pretty good. And then there's "Roll Over Beethoven." Chuck Berry's old hit was the perfect song to show the world what Jeff Lynne was trying to do with ELO. It was a masterful blend of orchestration and rock and roll. And, people finally started paying attention! "Roll Over Beethoven" actually got some play on American radio stations! This weird experiment just might work.

The next album, "On the Third Day," was musically excellent, even though most people still didn't grasp it yet. (They might have been turned off by the silly let's-point-at-our-belly-buttons album cover.) "Showdown" was a moderate success, and the instrumental "Daybreaker" also charted. What I don't understand is how the rock and roll gem "Ma-Ma-Ma Belle" failed to catch on. What is wrong with you people?

Their fourth album, "Eldorado," further emphasized the marriage between orchestra and rock and roll. It was sub-titled "A Symphony by the Electric Light Orchestra," and included an incredible opening overture arranged by conductor Louis Clark. And, ELO finally had their first Top 10 American hit in "Can't Get It Out of My Head."

Next came the album "Face the Music," and an even bigger hit, "Evil Woman." Another hit, "Strange Magic," explored the dreamy pop sound that Jeff and the gang were perfecting.

The next album, "A New World Record," featured more Top 40 hits, with "Telephone Line," "Livin' Thing," and an ELO-ified version of The Move's "Do Ya." But, perhaps just as importantly, it also featured the new ELO logo: the juke box inspired spaceship.

It's an old cliche when something is unsuccessful to snidely chide, "Who's the marketing whiz who came up with this one?" Well, in this case I'd honestly like to know who the marketing whiz was who came up with the ELO spaceship logo, and I'm not chiding snidely! The brilliantly designed spaceship, cleverly and colorfully based on the form of an old juke box, did a lot to sell ELO to the masses. In a time near the height of the popularity of Star Wars, it gave the band an iconic image much more vibrant than their not-so-flashy songwriter/lead singer. (Yes, the afro and the goatee were somewhat distinctive, but as a showman Jeff Lynne was no Elton John.)

The cover of the next album, "Out of the Blue," further exploited the out of this world motif with a fantastic fold-out close-up of the spaceship. It helped that the music was incredible, too! "Out of the Blue" was a double-album overflowing with excellent songs, including the hits "Turn To Stone," "Sweet Talkin' Woman," and "Mr. Blue Sky." (And while "Mr. Blue Sky" wasn't ELO's biggest hit at the time, it is probably their most recognizable and influential song, and the one most identifiable as the "ELO sound.")

Awesome spaceship! (Thanks, marketing whiz, whoever you are.)

Spurred by the success of "A New World Record" and "Out of the Blue," ELO embarked on a big world tour with a massive spaceship stage. Apparently, it was quite a sight to see. Unfortunately, I was 12 years old, had no money, and lived in Idaho. I didn't see the spaceship tour.

ELO's hot streak continued with the next album, "Discovery." (Get it? Disco-Very. Simple, but still much more clever of an album title than "Electric Light Orchestra II.") The album featured the hits "Don't Bring Me Down," "Shine a Little Love," "Confusion," and "Last Train to London," plus the fantastic "Diary of Horace Wimp." But, it was also the first ELO album without full orchestration. (The first sign of trouble.)

Twilight: I Only Meant to Stay Awhile

"Hey, let's do a movie musical with Olivia Newton John!" said John Travolta. And Jeff Lynne. The soundtrack to "Xanadu" was a bit of a strange arrangement. Side 1 was all Olivia Newton John, and Side 2 was all ELO, except for the last song, the title track, which combined ONJ with ELO. (ELONJ?) "I'm Alive" and "All Over the World" were Top 20 hits for ELO, but they didn't do as well as Olivia's songs. (A movie musical? The second sign of trouble.)

You know what's a sure sign of trouble? (In this case, the third sign of trouble for ELO.) A concept album. Concept albums are often the result of creative boredom. Artists will often try to jolt their own creative juices by doing an entire album based on a particular theme or story. Sometimes it works, (see Pink Floyd's "The Wall,") but more often it doesn't (see Queen's soundtrack to "Flash Gordon," which, aside from the title track was immediately forgettable.)

Concept albums can vary greatly in their subtlety. Billy Joel's "An Innocent Man" was a fairly subtle concept album. Apparently, "Paradise Theater" was a bit too subtle of a concept album for Styx, so Dennis DeYoung went super-batcrap-crazy concept for his next album, "Kilroy Was Here," complete with scripts, stage names, and robot masks.

ELO's "Time" wasn't quite that concepty, but it was very, very, very much a concept album, featuring a story about a guy who is trapped in the future. There are some good songs here, like the Top 10 hit "Hold On Tight," and Bev Bevan's extraordinary drumming on the underrated "Twilight," but overall as an ELO album it relied too much on the "E" and was light on the "O."

Each successive album was getting less and less satisfying. "Secret Messages" has several nice songs, but no real cohesion as an album. The one hit, "Rock 'N' Roll Is King," is little more than a stripped down clone of the previous album's "Hold On Tight."

ELO's final album, "Balance of Power," hardly seems like ELO at all, full of bitter break-up songs and saxophones. (Saxophones? I believe Billy Joel put it best when he asked the musical question "Where's the Orchestra?")

And then, ELO broke up. And that was the end of ELO. Or was it?

The Guys Not Named Jeff

Over the years a lot of musicians plied their trade in ELO, and they liked making music, too.

Up to this point I've only mentioned the founding members of ELO, Roy Wood, Jeff Lynne, and Bev Bevan. Wood left after the first album. From there, many musicians entered the fold. Some stayed briefly; others were in it for the long haul.

The most consistent other member of ELO was keyboardist Richard Tandy. He joined early and stayed to the very end. Kelly Groucutt played bass and contributed backing vocals. (By the time of the first non-orchestrated album, "Discovery," ELO was credited as a four-man operation of Lynne, Bevan, Tandy, and Groucutt.)

Violinist Mik Kaminski and his trademark blue violin was a solid contributor. Other string players included Hugh McDowell and Michael de Albuquerque. And, while never officially a member of the band, conductor Louis Clark helped provide orchestral arrangements.

After they left the group, some of these folks continued to make music that was clearly ELO-influenced.

One of the earliest was the group Violinski, featuring Mik Kaminski and his blue violin. This group had a minor hit in England with an instrumental called "Clog Dance." The album featured the fun, fast-paced song "Caped Crusader," and a very memorable, truly bizarre song called "Cow." "Cow" was musically intriguing, but the lyrics seemed to advocate domestic violence. Sure, it's good advice to "don't call your lover a cow," but I really don't think it's wise to advise listeners to "just smack her one in the face," or "kick her all over the place." (When Violinski's two albums were re-released as a compilation retrospective CD in the 2000s, the song "Cow" had been changed to "Princess of Darkness," and all of the lyrics had been removed.

Congratulations! It's a three-pound baby-blue violin!

Bass player/back-up vocalist Kelly Groucutt release a solo album, cleverly titled "Kelly." (Oh for crying out loud, people!!!) I actually remember Kelly appearing on the outstanding television show Solid Gold to perform his single "Am I a Dreamer?" I don't think I ever heard it on the radio, though. The album has a few decent songs on it, most notably "Dear Mama," "Old Rock and Roller," and the very ELO-esque "Sea of Dreams."

Later in the 80s, Groucutt and Kaminski teamed up to form a group called OrKestra. (Yes, that's like "orchestra," but with a capital "K" in the middle.) They put out an album or two. But, they had so little success that I, a self-professed ELO lunatic, didn't even hear of their attempt until over ten years later. (Eventually a retro-CD came out. Similar to the earlier work by each of the men, the songs were decent but not great. "Beyond the Dream" is probably their best song.)

As important as Kaminski and Groucutt had been to ELO, neither of them were there for the whole ride. Bev Bevan was. He was a founding member of ELO. There came a time when Bevan wanted to make more ELO music, but Jeff Lynne didn't. And the two didn't exactly see eye to eye on the subject.

Eventually, Bevan formed a new band. He wanted to continue to call it the Electric Light Orchestra, but Jeff Lynne didn't. Lawyers became involved, and eventually Bevan's group settled on the name "Electric Light Orchestra Part Two." ("ELOPT?") Five words would make a pretty concise sentence, but for a band name it's about three or four too many. Eventually most people (or at least the relatively few who even knew they existed) would refer to them as "ELO II," which isn't confusing at all because that also happens to be the name of the original ELO's second album.

In fact, the first time I ever knew of the existence of Electric Light Orchestra Part Two, I was at the Budget Tapes and Records store in Pocatello, Idaho when I saw the cassette version of their album in the "Miscellaneous E" section of the store. The album by the group Electric Light Orchestra Part Two was titled "Electric Light Orchestra Part Two" because heaven forbid they actually use their damn creative minds to actually think of an actual damn album title!!! When I first saw the album, I wondered if it was a repackaged re-release of the original ELO's album "Electric Light Orchestra II."
(It was all very confusing, and all the confusion could have been avoided if either group had been forward thinking enough to give their album a title different than the name of the group!) (Morons!!!)

Nice spaceship! (What spaceship? I don't see any spaceship.)

Eventually I realized it was a new album, so I bought it. When I listened to the first two songs, "Hello," and "Honest Men," I was blown away. Both songs sounded like ELO songs, with the wonderful orchestration that had been missing from the final four or five ELO albums! ELO was back!!! Except, they weren't. After that initial wave, the rest of the album generally sucks, with only a couple of other songs sounding even remotely like ELO.

When Bevan originally formed ELO II, he didn't bring in any other former members of the original ELO. It was mostly just a bunch of forgettable guys. The lone exception was a songwriter/singer named Eric Troyer. Troyer had toiled for years as a back-up studio session singer. He had sung on albums by the likes of Billy Joel, Elton John, and Bonnie Tyler. His songwriting and singing were definitely the bright spot of the "Electric Light Orchestra Part Two" album.

It didn't take Bevan long to realize that his new ELO group would be better if it actually included more former ELO members. Before long, Kelly Groucutt and Mik Kaminski came into the ELO II fold, as did former ELO conductor and arranger Louis Clark. (Clark, as the conductor of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, had a good hit in 1981 with the medley "Hooked On Classics.")

With Eric Troyer and Kelly Groucutt splitting the lead singing chores, Electric Light Orchestra Part Two released a second album, titled "Moment of Truth." It started and ended with nice instrumental orchestration pieces written and conducted by Louis Clark. Several of the songs were filled with lyrics that were thinly veiled jabs at Jeff Lynne, like, "I'm so glad you're gone! I'm so glad you said goodbye!" The album as a whole was much better than the first Electric Light Orchestra Part Two album, but it still wasn't as good as any album by the actual ELO (except for maybe "Balance of Power.")

Truthiness!!!

During this time Electric Light Orchestra Part Two was doing a lot or touring, and they even released a couple of live albums featuring one or two of their own songs plus the hits of the original ELO. Neither the touring nor the live albums sat well with Jeff Lynne. In promotion materials for the tours, often the "Part Two" part of the name of the band would be left off, which greatly irked Lynne. Lawyers were frequently involved. Also, whenever ELO Part II would release an album, a wide variety of re-issues and strange compilations of ELO cds would appear, seemingly to confuse the buying public as to what was a new release by the "new" group and what was just old rehash from the original group.

After a while, Bev Bevan grew tired of the fight. He quit ELO Part II and sold his rights to the ELO name back to Jeff Lynne. The other members of the band weren't ready to hang it up yet, though, so they got a new drummer (Gordon Townsend), a new guitarist/singer/songwriter (Parthenon Huxley), and a new name for their band.

The name they chose for their "new" old band was "The Orchestra." On the surface, it seems like a good name. It brings to mind the Electric Light Orchestra without any annoying legal battles with Jeff Lynne. Unfortunately, the band didn't really take into consideration internet search engines when deciding on the name "The Orchestra."

(Newcomer Parthenon Huxley had had fleeting success as a solo artist and as a member of the group "P. Hux." His solo album "Purgatory Falls," written about the death of his wife, is one of the most beautiful and sad pop-rock albums you'll ever hear.)

In 2001 The Orchestra released an album of (almost) all-new songs, titled "No Rewind." It is a fantastic album!!! (I still refer to it as my favorite album of this century.) Parthenon Huxley and Eric Troyer wrote and sing most of the songs, all of which are power-pop gems. I can't say enough good things about the songs "No Rewind," "Jewel and Johnny," "Can't Wait to See You," "Over London Skies," and "If Only." The album also contains an entertaining slow-fast cover of the classic rock song "Twist and Shout."

Unfortunately, the album is pretty obscure and only known to a relatively few hardcore fans. (When I first heard of the album I had to mail-order it from England in order to get a copy for myself!) It's too bad, because it is just a phenomenal album. (Did I mention that I like the album?)

The best album of this century!!! (Unfortunately, it's a "Limited Edition" because not many people bought it.

To the best of my knowledge, The Orchestra has not put out any new music since "No Rewind," but they have continued to tour. In the interim, Kelly Groucutt passed away. He was replaced by Glen Burtnik, who spent some time in the rock group Styx.

In July of 2014 I was fortunate enough to actually get to see The Orchestra in concert in Park City, Utah. (It says something about the band's lack of promotional skills that I, undoubtedly one of their biggest fans in Utah, didn't hear about their scheduled nearby concert until just a few days before the performance, and even when I did hear about it, it was pretty much a lucky fluke.)

Despite the fact that Louis Clark had to use a walker to get to his spot behind his keyboard, it was an excellent concert. They played all of the greatest hits of the Electric Light Orchestra. The crowd loved it, and so did I, even though I was one of the few there who would have liked for them to play a song or two of their own.

I still hold out faint hope that someday they'll put out another album of new music.

Jeff Did Some Things

Meanwhile, after the break-up of the original ELO, Jeff Lynne didn't just sit around pouting on his couch watching reruns of Dr. Who. He actually stayed pretty busy.

Before the break-up of ELO, Lynne had started a side career of producing and writing for other acts. He did those things for Dave Edmunds on his albums "Information" and "Riff Raff." He also worked with George Harrison on "Cloud 9" and Roy Orbison on "Mystery Girl."

Lynne then wrote and performed with the super-group the Traveling Wilburys along with superstars Harrison, Orbison, Bob Dylan, and Tom Petty. The group release two albums and had a few nice hit songs.

Lynne then worked his magic on the Tom Petty album "Full Moon Fever," which produced hit song after hit song and undoubtedly represented the zenith of Petty's career. Lynne also worked on Petty's follow-up album, "Into the Great Wide Open."

After all of this success working with others, it was finally time for Jeff Lynne to put out his first solo album. He released the album "Armchair Theater," and it was...okay at best. The single "Every Little Thing is a very good song, but it didn't catch on as a single, and sales of the album were disappointing.

Maybe Jeff should have gotten out of the chair and worked a little harder on the music.

And, to be honest, as a fan of ELO the songs on "Armchair Theater" were very disappointing, too. There were only two or three songs that would have been worthy of making the cut as filler on even the least of ELO albums.

Lynne went back to work producing, working on the hugely successful "The Beatles Anthology," and the "new" Beatles song "Free As a Bird." He also worked with Paul McCartney, producing, writing, and performing on McCartney's fun album "Flaming Pie."

In 2001, Lynne decided it was time for a new ELO album. It was essentially another solo album, but he decided to release it as ELO instead of as Jeff Lynne, probably because more people were familiar with the name "ELO" than they were of "Jeff Lynne."

The album was titled "Zoom," and it was much, much, much better than "Armchair Theater." It featured two excellent songs ("Ordinary Dream" and "Moment In Paradise,") and three or four other good songs, including the single "Alright." Unfortunately, the rest of the album was pretty much just filler.

Lynne thought "Zoom" would be the catalyst to launch a big ELO tour, but album sales and ticket sales didn't live up to expectations, and most of the tour was cancelled.

Interestingly enough, the ELO album "Zoom" by Jeff Lynne came out the same year that "No Rewind" by The Orchestra did. Surprisingly, the album by the cast-offs, misfits, and no-names from The Orchestra is the far superior of the two. Go figure.

As the new millennium marched on, Lynne became a bit of a 21st century man, not because of his new music, but because of his old music. As kids who grew up on ELO music in the late 1970s started to become influential filmmakers, they began to reach back to their old familiar favorite tunes to use in their movies. "Mr. Blue Sky," "Turn To Stone," and "Don't Bring Me Down" began popping up all over the place in movies and movie trailers. ELO music was becoming popular again.

In 2012, Jeff Lynne released two "new" albums, although neither one of them were actually "new." The first, a solo album titled "Long Wave," contained covers of old classic songs.

The other album, released the same day, has a bit of a different story. It is an ELO album, titled "Mr. Blue Sky: The Very Best of the Electric Light Orchestra." For this album, Jeff Lynne meticulously re-recorded all of the greatest hits of ELO, and did so in a way that the songs are almost indistinguishable from the original versions to the casual fan. Lynne says he did this because, with the advancements in technology, he can make the songs sound "better" than before, or make them sound like he originally intended them to sound.

There are some cynics, though, who believe he re-recorded all the old hits so that when movie-makers asked to use ELO songs, he could have them use these new recordings, thus getting all the money for their use and bypassing all of his old band-mates. (If true, it sounds a little skeevy to me.)

But then, finally, in November of 2015, Jeff Lynne put out a new album of new music. It was released not as a Jeff Lynne album, and not as an ELO album, but as an album by "Jeff Lynne's ELO," just to clear up and/or add to the confusion.

The title of the album is "Alone In the Universe," and, in my opinion, it is by far the best album by Jeff Lynne, ELO, or Jeff Lynne's ELO since the breakup of the original ELO. (It's even almost as good as The Orchestra's "No Rewind!")

Ah, the triumphant return of the spaceship!

The initial single, "When I Was a Boy," is nearly perfect. It has that classic ELO/Beatle-esque feel to it. The album also features three other great songs, "Alone In the Universe," "All My Life," and "The Sun Will Shine On You." And even the filler songs from the album are far superior to the filler songs from "Zoom."

The reception to "Alone In the Universe" has been much better than the reception for "Zoom," too. Jeff Lynne's ELO have made several television appearances, including The Tonight Show, and they have played a series of sold-out concerts as well. Hopefully this means Jeff Lynne will continue to keep writing songs and making music.

So, there you have it. The brief (ha!) history of the Electric Light Orchestra and the ELO family of musical acts. (I'm sure I've left a few things out, because this history has been rather brief.)

COMING UP NEXT: A brief (ha!) history of Chilliwack and the Chilliwackian family of musical acts.

1: I Don't Get Many Things Right the First Time

1. "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds [Video: nope.]

I like Ben Folds. I really do. I'm a bit surprised that this is the only song by him to make the HondoJoe Top 200. He has a lot of great songs that are certainly worthy of consideration, like "Army," and "Zak and Sara," "Fred Jones, Part 2," "Gracie," and many more.

His work on William Shatner's album "Has Been" is remarkable. Who would have thought anyone could have turned a William Shatner musical album into an actually enjoyable listening experience? (Not me!)

His album "Rockin' the Suburbs" is my second favorite album of this century! Only "No Rewind" by The Orchestra rates higher on my list, and that's probably because of all the profanity on "Rockin' the Suburbs."

You see, Ben Folds is a very talented man. Unfortunately, he is also a foul-mouthed little troll. I swear (figuratively speaking) that Ben Folds drops the "f-bomb" in about half of the songs he sings. I don't understand it, because it is so unnecessary.

This song, "The Luckiest," is from that "Rockin' the Suburbs" album. It, fortunately, does not contain any profanity. The reason it has landed as the #1 song on the HondoJoe Top 200 is pretty simple. For my wife and I, this is "our song."

Back when I was single, I wasn't one to cry or wrap myself up in self-pity very often. Yes, I was lonely, but I had a pretty good life. But, there was one time when I remember listening to this song and I started to cry, because I knew I was never going to have someone to sing this song to. I knew I was going to be alone forever.

So, when some crazy, beautiful woman decided that she actually wanted to spend the rest of her life and beyond with me, I was beyond flabbergasted. I was, literally, "The Luckiest."






I hope you have enjoyed this stupid countdown. I'm sorry that it took so long to write. But, if you enjoyed reading it at least 34.7% as much as I enjoyed writing it, I'll consider it a massive success.

Thanks!

2: Sitting Here On Top of Everywhere

2. "Eldorado/Eldorado Finale" by Electric Light Orchestra [Video: nope.]

Why do I like this song so much? I'm not exactly sure. There are several factors in its favor. Here are a few of them:

1) It's not a well-known song. The fact that not many people have heard the song or know it makes it seem like it's my song and not everybody else's.

2) It's one of those "flying, floating" songs that I like so much.

3) It's a bit over-dramatic in places. That can be fun occasionally.

D) I love the classical orchestration of the "Eldorado Finale" portion of the song. (It's a reprise of the "Eldorado Overture" that comes before "Can't Get It Out of My Head.")

E) I don't know why I like it, I just do!

There's no place like home! (No bellybuttons were exposed in the making of this album cover.)

The album "Eldorado" was ELO's fourth album, and its first real hit. It went to #16 on the album charts, whereas the album before it, "On the Third Day" (known around these parts as "The Bellybutton Album") couldn't crack the Top 50.

I think, from top to bottom, that "On the Third Day" is a better album. Almost all of its songs are great. The album "Eldorado" has three phenomenal songs that act as tent poles to prop up all the mediocre stuff between them. It starts with "Eldorado Overture/Can't Get It Out of My Head" at the beginning of the album, then "Mister Kingdom" holds the tent up in the middle, with "Eldorado/Eldorado Finale" finishing things off with a high note at the end.

I like Jeff Lynne's vocals. "Sitting here on top of everywhere. What do I care?"

COMING UP NEXT: Finally, The End. The #1 Song on the list. (And it's not from ELO, Billy Joel, They Might Be Giants, Queen, or Midnight Oil!)

3: Here We Are Waving Brenda and Eddie Goodbye

3. "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant" by Billy Joel [Video: Scenes From an Italian Restaurant.]

Yes, this is my favorite Billy Joel song. But it wasn't always.

The very first music I purchased as a kid was the 8-track of Billy Joel's album "The Stranger." (My brother had already purchased ELO "A New World Record," ELO "Out of the Blue," and Queen "News of the World," but "The Stranger" was the first I purchased with my own money.) (It was also the only 8-track I ever purchased. I saw the writing on the wall, and when "52nd Street" came out, I bought it on cassette. My brother was still buying 8-tracks for a while longer.)

When I first listened to "The Stranger," I thought of "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant" as "that long song." I didn't really care for it. Why? Well, it was a long song, it starts off kind of slow, and, unlike most of the other songs on the album, I wasn't familiar with it.

But, given some time and some maturity, by the time I reached high school my opinion of the song had changed. While I still wasn't a huge fan of the slower "Bottle of Red" opening and closing to the song, but found the "Things Are Okay with Me These Days" and "Brenda and Eddie" parts of the song incredible.

Really, it's the "Brenda and Eddie" part that carries the song. The big waterbed. The paintings from Sears. The deep pile carpet. The Parkway Diner. (They can never go back there again.) Ah, the summer of '75! It's too bad Brenda was so lazy and Eddie couldn't afford that kind of life.

Of course, now I look at it as a bit of masterful songwriting by one of the best of all time. I think it certainly helps that the song wasn't a hit. Yes, it's a very well-known song, but it's only well-known to true Billy Joel fans. It's a song that very, very rarely gets played on the radio. It's like the great secret song you have to really search to know. It's not for everybody, just for me and the other really smart people with good taste. (Yes, I'm a really smart person with good taste.) (If you don't believe me, just ask me.)

Yes, here we are waving Brenda and Eddie goodbye!

COMING UP NEXT: Orchestral maneuvers (in the dark.)

4: I've Paid My Dues (Time After Time)

4. "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" by Queen {#4; 10/77} [Video: We Will Rock You;   We Are the Champions (with the iconic black and white leotard.)]

Boom-boom-clap. Boom-boom-clap.

The beat is iconic and unmistakeable. "We Will Rock You" is one of the most instantly recognizable songs ever. The beat, the clapping, the chorus. Everyone knows "We Will Rock You."

Everyone knows "We Are the Champions," too. Whenever your team wins the championship, a rendition of "We Are the Champions" is sure to follow. (Someday, Vikings. Someday.) (Someday, Jazz. Someday.)

Each song on its own is a powerhouse juggernaut. Together, they are more unstoppable than a juggernaut, if that is even possible.

I've only done karaoke in public once. My family and my brother's family were at a family pizza place in Orem, Utah. My oldest daughter, who was either two or three at the time, wanted to get up on stage and sing. She started off with "Old McDonald" and worked her way through a few other children's songs. With her inspiring us, everyone else eventually got up on stage for a song or two. (Even my father-in-law "delighted" us with a rendition of "16 Tons.")

My brother, John, chose "Piano Man" as his song. It's an excellent song, and it's fun to sing along with. But, one thing we all learned that day is that "Piano Man" is a long song. And when you are up there singing it by yourself, it seems to go on forever.

So, when it came my turn to go onstage to sing a song, I learned from my brother's mistake. I picked a very short song. I picked the exact two minute-long "We Will Rock You." And, to further assuage my possible embarrassment, I brought little Roni onstage with me to help me sing the chorus. (She may have been young, but she already knew the chorus of "We Will Rock You.") I may not have been the best karaoke singer, but I certainly wasn't the worst.

When it came time to make this list, it was a really close call between "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" and "Bohemian Rhapsody." Both songs were really neck and neck. So, why did I eventually choose "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" to be one notch higher than "Bohemian Rhapsody?" I think a lot of it has to do with when the songs came out. "Bohemian Rhapsody" first hit the charts in January of 1976, when I was still just 9 years old. I was still young enough that I didn't listen to too much radio and I never had control over what music I listened to.

"We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" hit the charts in October of 1977. It may have only been a year and a half later, but there is a big difference between a 9 year old and an 11 year old. By late 1977, I was much more of a radio listener and much more of a fan of popular music. And "We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions" was such an amazing song that it really ingrained itself into my brain and my psyche. (Although, in the deepest reaches of my memory, KRSP, Rock 103 from Salt Lake City, which for us in Arimo, Idaho was the coolest radio station we could ever find, played the songs in the reverse order. They played "We Are the Champions" first, then followed it with "We Will Rock You." Mind you, this could be my memory playing tricks on me. It wouldn't really make sense, because on the album they are in their traditional order. And yet, that's the way I think I remember it was.)

Anyway, they are two damn fantastic songs, and when you put them together: wow!

COMING UP NEXT: The softer side of Sears.