Category Archives: Video Fridays

My weekly selection from the vast video internets.

Video Fridays: Barbershop Sexual Healing

ragtime-galsTo paraphrase the oft-quoted Most Interesting Man In The World, I don’t always watch TV (no cable and no antenna), but when I see clips on the interwebs, many of my favorites come from Jimmy Fallon, previously from his stint on Late Night, and now on The Tonight Show.

And as I tried to select this week’s Video Fridays, given I’ve been in a bit of a funk this past week, I wanted something light and funny, and the following clip delivers heaping portions of light and funny.

Fallon hilariously calls the barbershop quartet that appears in this recurring bit The Ragtime Gals, and I love these bits for several reasons. First, there’s the contrast of the early 1900s, painfully white genre mixing with contemporary, decidedly non-white songs. Second, barbershop singing is NOT easy, and yet these are done very, very well.

The Ragtime Gals have been joined by guests in the past, notably Justin Timberlake and Kevin Spacey, and this past week Steve Carell is featured in this awesome version of the Marvin Gaye classic Sexual Healing

Enjoy, and Happy Weekend!

Video Fridays: R.I.P. Ian McLagan

ian-mclaganREALLY tough week for rock & roll.

The day after we lost unsung legend Bobby Keys, which I wrote about on Tuesday, the sad news came that another unsung legend, Ian ‘Mac’ McLagan, had passed.

It’s uncanny that these two amazing musicians should leave us at the same time, given their similar career arcs. Both Bobby and Mac played supporting roles for many, many rock & roll greats, a veritable Who’s Who, I listed Bobby’s credits on Tuesday, and Mac’s are just as impressive, including a shared longtime collaboration with The Rolling Stones: Small Faces, Faces, Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood, Mick Taylor, Pete Townshend, Chuck Berry, Jackson Browne, Joe Cocker, Bob Dylan, Melissa Etheridge, Bonnie Raitt, Paul Westerberg, John Mayer, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Bragg, Lucinda Williams, etc.

Of all his work, however, I’m deeply partial to Faces, whose classic lineup included Mac, Rod Stewart, Ronnie Lane, Ron Wood, and Kenny Jones. They only produced four albums, from 1969 to 1973, but in that brief time, before Rod Stewart became a cheesy pop star, their music was soulful, gritty, raw, and powerful.

Lucky for us, there are 40 minutes of live Faces goodness available on YouTube, and I present it here in honor of Ian McLagan, featuring, at about the 29:20 mark, Mac’s amazing Wurlitzer electric piano work on the classic Stay With Me.

Thanks for all of the wonderful music, Mac! You’ll be missed!

Video Fridays: The Sapphires

The_Sapphires-posterIt’s been several weeks since I saw the wonderful film, The Sapphires, at Bellingham’s own art house emporium The Pickford Film Center, and I just can’t stop thinking about it.

I went into the experience with few expectations. The brief description I’d read gave me the impression that it would be a fairly lightweight, feel-good, possibly a little silly movie. BUT, man, take four Australian aboriginal gals with amazing voices, introduce them to a washed-up white soul musician played by Irish comedic actor Chris O’Dowd, and then take the show to Vietnam in 1968 to entertain American troops and you’ve got one dynamic, fantastic film!

As I’ve mentioned several times before (Just two examples: Post 1, Post 2), I LOVE Soul music. It has become my go-to genre when I’m burned out on nearly every other type of music, I eventually get fatigued by everything else but I can always come back to Soul music.

So, it’s Video Fridays, and thanks to The Sapphires, I’ve got some wonderful Soul music to share, first a clip from the film, with the gals doing the 1968 Linda Lyndell tune What A Man, then a sampling of the soundtrack in the trailer.

Seriously, see this movie if you can, whether in the theatre or at home. It’s a gas!

Enjoy, and Happy Weekend, everyone!

Video Fridays: Dire Straits Didn’t Give A Shit

dire_straitsA few weeks ago, I received an email from Keith, one of my High Fidelity friends. (For a full explanation read my January 2012 post titled I Lived High Fidelity Before High Fidelity Was High Fidelity!. Shorter explanation: Keith’s a longtime friend who, like me, is a music geek.)

Anyway, the email had no subject line, and the entire body of the email consisted of this:

Toro, Toro taxi. See you tomorrow my son.

I’ll pause a minute as folks try to place it…

Ok, so, it’s a line from a song called Skateaway, from the third album, Making Movies, by now-defunct band Dire Straits.

And even though I hadn’t heard the song in years, in fact hadn’t listened to any Dire Straits, except on accident, if it just happened to come on the radio, I recognized the lyric and the song it came from instantly, within seconds of reading it I opened Spotify to intentionally listen to Dire Straits, and I’ve been listening to them off and on ever since.

This morning, I wrote this, in response to Keith’s original email:

Keith, I hold you personally responsible for sending me off on a Dire Straits binge.

Thank you. I haven’t listened to this stuff in years.

Seriously, their first three albums are frickin’ incredible…

(Yes, there’s some great stuff after that, like Telegraph Road, a very Springsteen-ish song from their 4th album, Love Over Gold, and some of the stuff on Brothers In Arms.)

…and I think it’s stunning to think about them in the context of what was going on in music at that time, the late 70s and early 80s, so dominated by punk, post-punk/new wave, etc., and there wasn’t much else out there that sounded like Dire Straits. Maybe Tom Petty and a few others.

Early Dire Straits was like a great early to mid 70s rock and roll band, full of American roots music influences, who stubbornly decided to just keep making great early to mid 70s rock and roll.

And there I was, thinking I was making a keen observation, perhaps even a unique observation, but as I was researching for this post, I came across this in the Wikipedia article for Dire Straits’ 1978 debut album (emphasis in bold added):

In his review for Rolling Stone magazine, Ken Tucker wrote that the band “plays tight, spare mixtures of rock, folk and country music with a serene spirit and witty irony. It’s almost as if they were aware that their forte has nothing to do with what’s currently happening in the industry, but couldn’t care less.

Oh well.

Since this is Video Fridays, this post must include a video, and boy what a video I’ve got for you, nearly an hour and half of early Dire Straits, a 1979 concert that includes songs from their first two albums, tight, clean, rootsy music in a year dominated by wholy different, seminal albums by The Clash, Joy Division, Talking Heads, The Police, Elvis Costello, B-52s, etc., proving that Dire Straits, indeed, didn’t give a shit.

Enjoy, and Happy Weekend, everyone!

Video Fridays: Gas Station Karaoke

karakokeOk, I know that my selection for today’s installment of Video Fridays, a clip from The Tonight Show, has already gone wildly viral.

I even know that some controversy has kicked up around it, with some suggesting that the whole thing was staged.

I.Simply.Don’t.Care.

Because, it’s frickin’ awesome! If this was a Saturday Night Live skit, I’d still enjoy it, so why should I care if it was staged or not?

The couple are just plain endearing and entertaining and willing to let it all hang out there in public. I love that!

Happy Weekend, everyone!

Best of Fish & Bicycles: Video Fridays: Long Live Hippies

Originally Published: July 26, 2011


A friend of mine recently tweeted a wonderful YouTube clip (video embedded below) of a joint performance by The Flaming Lips and Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros of the Lips song Do You Realize?, filmed in a cemetery in Los Angeles, CA.

I dare anyone to watch the video and NOT have the word “hippies” come to mind, and I’m reminded of a post I wrote back in April 2010, a lament on the fact that for some, in my opinion too many, the word “hippies” carries a negative connotation.

I watch that video of Do You Realize? and it’s quite bittersweet for me. While it’s heartening to see hippie culture surviving, it breaks my heart to think of how squashed the movement got, as I wrote previously, by cynicism and conservatism.

What I see when I watch that video is a crowd of people being incredibly peaceful, lovingly joining their voices together in song, singing about how precious life is and how we should, together, make the most of every single second. I’ve been fortunate enough to have had the pleasure of similar experiences, and while I was raised Jewish and now dabble in Buddhism, I’d have to say that gatherings like that, especially when they involve making music, are really the only church I’ll ever need.

Back in April 2010 I quoted a line by Pete Townshend of The Who, a line that I remembered but couldn’t recall exactly where it came from. Well, I’ve since remembered.

In 1993, Townshend released an album titled Psychoderelict, a concept album about an aging rock star lamenting the fact that back in the late 60s and through much of the 70s artists and their fans really did believe that their music and art, along with their love and community, could change the world for the better.

Townshend’s aging rocker says at one point, “Whatever happened to all that lovely hippie shit?”

Well, despite all the cynicism in our screwed up world, that hippie shit is alive and well and recently showed up in a Los Angeles cemetery. And, it really has very little to do with how people dress or how often they do drugs and drink, and everything to do with a sincere belief that love; peaceful, supportive, inclusive community; and freedom of expression, are the most important things.

Video Fridays: R.I.P., Allan “Sidney Freedman” Arbus

allan-arbusI’m late getting to this, but I’m sad that I’m posting my second obituary in one week.

Following my post on Monday on the loss of Richie Havens, I heard the very next day of the death of actor Allan Arbus, at the age of 95, mostly known for his role as the psychiatrist, Dr. Sidney Freedman, on the TV show M*A*S*H.

(In a creepy example of the urban myth that celebrities die in groups of three, since I started writing this, I’ve learned of the death of country music legend George Jones at the age of 81. I may or may not be able to post an obit for George later today.)

Anyway, I mentioned once before that I practically grew up on M*A*S*H. In fact, it was such a central experience for me, as well as for many of the people I knew, including my best friends, who would talk about it constantly, reciting our favorite lines, analyzing it’s ups and downs, that it is not unsurprising to me at all that Allan Arbus’ passing would inspire more than just a brief note about how I used to enjoy him on television.

(If you aren’t a TV geek who enjoys exploring the themes of a show, if you are someone who simply likes entertainment, that’s cool, but you might want to skip ahead below, to the video part of this Video Fridays installment, a montage of clips of Allan Arbus from various M*A*S*H episodes.)


Now, the fascinating thing here, for me, is that Allan Arbus and his character, Sidney Freedman, actually represent the epicenter of an aspect of M*A*S*H that divided its fans into two opposing camps:

  1. Those who preferred the earlier seasons of the show, when comedy far outweighed drama, and when the comedy was, as I would argue, of a more sophisticated style.
  2. Those who loved the evolution of the show from mostly comedy toward increasing amounts of drama, and despite the shift in comedic style.

You see, although Arbus only appeared in 12 of the 251 episodes of M*A*S*H, and although his earliest appearances were in Season 2, when the show was still firmly mostly-comedy, I contend that the very fact that Sidney Freedman became a recurring character is symbolic of the evolution of the series towards drama.
Gradually, the show became less and less about the farcical absurdities of war, in the style of, say Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 — the style, incidentally, of the original source material, the novel by Richard Hooker and the film by Robert Altman — and more and more about the emotional, dramatic, traumatic and tragic nature of war.

That said, a convincing argument could be made that, once you delve into the ugliness of war, as would, let’s say, a psychiatrist, digging through the horrible toll it takes on humans and humanity, that it necessarily gets harder and harder to make light of it. A sitcom about war, then, could eventually become shallow or even insulting to those who have faught in, been injured by, or have lossed loved ones to war.

And, nothing underscores Sidney Freedman’s central role in this evolution than his central role in the very last episode of the series, 1983’s Goodbye, Farwell and Amen, M*A*S*H‘s swan song, the show’s last statement on the subject of war, which centered on therapy sessions between Sidney and Alan Alda‘s Hawkeye Pierce, who had suffered a nervous breakdown over a traumatic experience involving a mother who silenced her baby, thereby suffocating and killing it, in order to protect Hawkeye and the other passengers on a bus that was under enemy fire.

Drama indeed. Nothing funny about that.

Now, I should make it clear that, despite my preference for the earlier seasons, I do appreciate the significant achievement of keeping the show on the air for 11 seasons, while maintaining a huge audience and mostly positive reviews. After all, I kept watching and never missed an episode.

Truthfully, my beef with the show wasn’t really with the trend toward drama-over-comedy. Rather, as mentioned above, I found the comedy that did remain to be lacking in sophistication, too often heavily laden with silly puns, slapstick arguments and personality clashes.

Whatever you make of this analysis, regardless of which camp you reside in, I think we can all agree that Allan Arbus was wonderful as Dr. Sidney Freedman. As Alan Alda said, quoted in the Los Angeles Times Arbus obituary, “He was so authentic in the role it was hard to believe that he wasn’t that person.”

R.I.P., Allan Arbus. Thanks for the memories.