Thought you’d encountered the worst movie musical ever when Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees starred as ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’ in ’78? You ain’t seen nothin’, Billy Shears — a pronouncement applicable to this misbegotten mishmash in myriad ways, considering it was pulled from theaters after two weeks in late ’76, rarely to be witnessed since.
The keen eyes and ears of @all.the.records summed up this phase of my already-leagues-deep dive into Christine McVie’s discography in a comment on the previous installment in this series: ‘The takeaway I’m getting from these most recent … posts is the members [of Fleetwood Mac] worked on a lot of songs or records during some downtime in FM in the early ‘80s.’
I’d go a step further, actually: non-Mac downtime work became the band’s new standard operating procedure post-Tusk.
For reasons I really ought to turn into a memoir, I maintain a deeply abiding and psychologically unhealthy passion for music and movies from 1979-80, my 10th year on this mostly blue marble.
We’ve reached the point in my year-old deep dive into Christine McVie’s vast discography where we must ask, for the first of several times: Who among us remembers this guy?
If you were lucky enough to catch Fleetwood Mac during the first North American leg of their Tusk tour in late ‘79 — and you bothered arriving on time — then you probably saw a warmup set from this likable fellow, Danny Douma.
I grew up between the two golden ages of Disney animation, when less-loved creations like ‘The Rescuers’ (’77) and ‘The Fox and the Hound’ (’81) portended a protracted slump from which the studio wouldn’t emerge until ‘The Little Mermaid’ leapt ashore at the end of ’89.
I know what at least four or five of you are likely muttering to yourselves right now: ‘Man oh man, is she ever gonna stop with these damn Tijuana Brass albums?!? It’ll be Christmas 2024 by the time this #TuesdaysWithJerry series finally gets to the Police!’
Some years ago, not long after we met, @kajigger and I started collecting these limited picture-disc pressings of soundtracks from classic Disney animated films alongside Pixar treasures and a few recordings related to Disneyland attractions (see my third post in this series, from Nov 26, for evidence of that). Our tally of titles is pushing two dozen; they’d make an eye-grabbing display if we ever framed ‘em.
Contrary to the impression I might have given with the sixth post in this ongoing series surveying past glories of A&M Records — I spend #TuesdaysWithJerry to remember late great mogul Jerry Moss — Joe Cocker was not in fact the first rock act signed to the rapidly rising label.
My #SoundtrackSunday timing with this one has proven fortuitous. Not long after I discovered Elmer Bernstein’s richly detailed classicist score finally had been pressed as a 2LP gatefold package — which I immediately acquired — I then realized Martin Scorsese’s sumptuous adaptation of Edith Wharton’s tragic romance is streaming until the end of this month on the Criterion Channel. (Gift idea for film friends: a yearlong subscription.)
If anyone was entitled to craft New Age-y yacht-rock with a dash of disco by the dawn of 1979, it was the Beach Boys. Except that’s giving them way too much credit, as if they’d planned to do exactly that — when in fact L.A. (Light Album), perhaps the group’s most forgettable collection, is nothing but a hodgepodge of solo material patched together to keep CBS Records from suing them for breach of contract, lest they turn in zero music two years after signing to that label.