CREEMEDIA
Are you ready for a graduate course at the college of musical knowledge? Does the academic language of sociology coupled to a fan’s love of the big beat sound like a tantalizing framework for yet another history of rock ’n’ roll? Does the appearance of footnotes make you want to throw a hefty tome out the window and brain an unsuspecting passer-by?
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CREEMEDIA
Pithy Frith Froth Follows Forth
SOUND EFFECTS: YOUTH, LEISURE, AND THE POLITICS OF ROCK ’N’ ROLL
by Simon Frith (Pantheon)
by Toby Goldstein
Are you ready for a graduate course at the college of musical knowledge? Does the academic language of sociology coupled to a fan’s love of the big beat sound like a tantalizing framework for yet another history of rock ’n’ roll? Does the appearance of footnotes make you want to throw a hefty tome out the window and brain an unsuspecting passer-by? Those who fearlessly answered yes to the first two questions and claim to be unfazed by pages of nagging little references stand to gain a valuable perspective on the longevity of Anglo-American bop from professor/CREEM writer Simon Frith’s painstaking study.
Frith attempts to cover a huge canvas in Sound Effects. A partial list of matters explained: why are rock tastes so different in the U.S. A. and the U.K.; for what purposes have fans over the years .used rock ’n’ roll; exactly how do our “gatekeepers”—the record companies, radio stations, concert promoters and music magazines— determine which performers we get to hear and ever get away with telling us what to think of them; why the increasingly tight-assed music business needs to be slapped in the face by exciting upstarts, even though success too often brings the outsiders in from the cold. perform her famous impression of Guernseys falling down fire escapes? The rest of us call it “dancing.”
The rock industry, posits Frith, is a huge contradiction. It is comfortable being bland, but when it’s too bland, even the mass audience will stop caring because they need for the new isn’t being satisfied. The aggressive young trailblazer who hates big business enlarges that business by his very success. Rock ’n’ roll is about finding fun, but getting to the enjoyment is a struggle that increases with the size of the reward.
Frith describes how the rise of youth culture, including rock, happened as a post-World War II event, when teenagers had freedom and disposable income. But within their millions-strong legions, young people from different backgrounds, particularly in Britain, listened to rock for specific purposes, and still do. From surveys he’d conducted in the early 70’s, Frith found that working-class teenagers used rock as a backdrop for dancing or hanging out, while college-bound students tended to get involved with songs for their own sake, helping to make them individuals. In terms of taste, this translates to the one group favoring pop (girls) and heavy music (boys), and the other opting for progressive or, more recently, intricate new wave.
The U.S. marketplace doesn’t lend itself to such neat labeling (not since the 1960’s hippies, anyway), but Our machinery lends itself to be studied as a consumption-maker. Armed with facts as well as his own critical bias, Frith explains the labels’ own corporate responsibilities, discusses how a sound reaches the public and the public reaction returns to the record company, and in a very strong segment, contrasts American and British roles of the press and radio.
As you might guess, Sound Effects is not an easy book to grasp, even for me, with my communications M.A., and perhaps Frith has taken too much ground in 30 years of rock culture to adequately cover all bases. But after plowing through the minutaie of profit and loss, safety and risk, symbols and ideas and dreams gone sour, we can be gratified to learn how much of rock’s creative spark still survives, despite the threats that make up such a large part of its packaging.
Opie-ate Of The Masses
THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW (CBS/now syndicated)
THE ANDY GRIFFITH SHOW
by Richard Kelly
(Blair)
The Andy Griffith Show has been on television continuously for over 20 years now. It’s outlasted five presidents, seven Twins Club Picnics, a couple of high school reunions, 127 CREEM editors and may well outlive the self-cleaning garlic press. It remained in the Nielsen top ten for eight years.
Even Mayberry R. F. D., that cornyatrocity of a spinoff with Ken Berry, was top ten throughout its threeyear run and got cancelled only because of CBS’s infamous rural masacree of 1971.
Big deal, right? What’s really important was the Comically acrobatic cast, the town of Mayberry, North Carolina (which was “slightly modeled” after Griffith’s birthplace Mt. Airy, NC) and Andy Griffith himself, an unusually concerned star who was “involved in every capacity,” according to Don Knotts.
Griffith as Sheriff Andy Taylor developed from a-pickin’ and a-grinnin’ hick shuffler into a veritable Jed Clampett of Mayberry. Wise beyond his uniform, he was so deviously nice that viewers—if not Barney—fogged over and forgot his sadistic streak. Not to mention his way with the homily repulso, such as “It’s like putting the! pig in the sty and taking out the mud.” Heavy stuff, as you Americans say.
The townfolk of Mayberry were a strange breed of surreal McCoys. Don Knotts’ characterization of high-strung one-bullet-man Deputy Barney Fife remains a classic of dim jitter. So important was his presence that fans now divide the show into W.B. (with Barney) and G.N.B. (got no Barney) laundry piles.
The rest of the slightly dizzy players included the “touchy and moody” Frances Bavier as everybody’s favorite aunt, Aunt Bee; Ronnie Howard—a seasoned pro since age two—as the cryptically named Opie; fool’sgolden throated Jim Nabors as Gomer; washed-up American history teacher and college football star George Lindsay as Comer’s cousin Goober; Howard McNear as Floyd the barber, whose tonic-spiels always cracked up Don Knotts; nose-talking allergy magnet Jack Dodson as county clerk/ swinging bachelor Howard Sprague and Aneta Corsaut (Helen Crump), soon to be the star of House Calls unless they get a monkey.
Music was a particularly prominent form of expression on AGS. Andy himself likes to drag the gitfiddel out on the porch and strangle a few cricket tunes out of it for the family. He was always hot to . jam with hillbilly heavy metal kings, the Darling family (mostly played by the Dillards), or any guitar player in town with a temperature. Ah yes, who can forget his stardust medley of “Midnight Special” and “Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Rangers”? Or Opie’s unnamedbut-relentless combo, whose beat made Miss Crump lose control and
Women in general turned out to be real problems on the show. Griffith, modestly described as “not really a ladies’ man,” is the first to admit “we never knew how to write for women.” His early slurpee, Ellie the druggist (Elinor Donahue), proved too uppity for the mere 60’s. A series of milk-duds followed until the now-dreaded plucky schoolmarm Helen turned up. Crump me, you fool!
My own favorite part of the AGS book is the 50-page section of complete show summaries. A quick scope turns up such unforgettable episodes as “Citizen’s Arrest,” “Those Gossipin’ Men,” “Goober and the Art of Love,” “The Cow Thief’ (who covers his tracks by putting sneakers on the cows) and Barney’s famous disguises as flycasting mannikin (“The Shoplifters”) and a cleaning lady with black socks (“The Bank Job”)
The book also provides a ton of facts for the trivia stooge. Did you know that the locations were filmed in Franklin Canyon, ,L.A.? That little Leon was played by Ron Howard’s brother, Clint? That Floyd was paralyzed on the left side during his final season? That every show was shot with only one camera? That HeeHaw star Lindsey was going to play Gomer until Nabors bumped him at the last minute? That some people feel there is a need for more Art Buchwalds?
More importantly, did you know that, after Andy Griffith’s sentence in Mayberry, he went on to play, among other things, a hack writer?
Rick Johnson
No-Frills Thrills
NO-FRILLS BOOKS: MYSTERY, ROMANCE, SCIENCE FICTION, WESTERN.
(Jove)
Everything’s going generic these days. Beer, drugs, emotions, drugs, beer, nappies, uh...didl mention drugs?... tuna, suicide, you name it. Life itself, of course, has been available on the no-frills plan all along.
Given the low production costs and apparent consumer OK of such items, it should come as no surprise that No-Frills books are now on the market. Packaged in classic generic black and white, the slim softcovers come in four different flavors Mystery, Romance, Science Fiction and Western. No author, no title. Just a simple list of ingredients (Romance: man, woman, large
house, one walk, a kiss, an event by the sea) followed by 58 fastreadirig pages for a buck and a half.
But, the Dept, of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms wants to know, are they worth reading? You bet your boots, toots. The totlike texts are even better than a TV Guide with a plot. Let’s face it— in a world where John Entwistle can release five solo albums, just what can you expect from a pawful of green paper?
Rena Wolner, publisher of Jove, explained it like this. The No-Frills books cost half as much to produce as regular paperbacks and they eliminate altogether such added expenses as reprint rights, cover art, publicity and greenhouse-effect packaging.
“We initially thought the idea would be tongue-in-cheek,” she explained. BUt the “enormous response” (three left-handed arcade attendants in Muncie, Ind.) the pratlike volumes generated set bingo to the coin-changers at Jove.
The skinny format leaves the authors no time to fall asleep at the crayon. And tongue-in-cheek nothin’. The hacks, who are contractually guaranteed “anonymity forever,” keep the stories lightweight and fast paced, not unlike sex with dying midgets.
In the strict genres they’re dealing with, the artistes can’t help but scribble ironic parodies. It works best in the No-Frills Mystery, which comes with a wrap-around scheme worth at least $2.95 “Complete with everything, ” says the cover. “Detective, money, corpses, mysterious women, telephone, streets, rain. ”
“When the phone rings,” it begins, “1 thought it was the landlord so I let it go.” Hungover but jobless, the no-name (N.N.) detective decides to answer.
“Do you love rock ’n’ roll?” the voice on the phone asks. Not Don Kirshner again!
“I’m a private eye, not a music critic,” N.N. replies (Game Ball!). “Besides, I’ve got my ethics. No divorce cases.” No divorce cases— the same ethics as mine!
He hits the streets and in three pages we’re rubbing elbows with the tale of a rock musician murdered by “killer feedback that turned his brain to mush.” Where can I get the soundtrack?
A few ingredients—especially corpses—later, N.N. goes to a concert by a group called The Omnivores, where he saves their mysterious female vocalist from imminent skull pancakes. He then gives her a listen to the snuff tape he recovered earlier and she immediately falls into a mindless trance.
A Sheena Easton c'assette, right? But there’s no time for a Rock-A-Rama as the trail of the tape leads to a silent auction at a private nuthouse, several more dead musicians (Parade tomorrow!) and even a brief examination of the Beach Boys’ legendary Smile album. That’s the one with the track called “Fire,” . which the dunced-out Wilsons burned because they thought it was causing actual fires. Thank
goodness they never got their hands on “Having My Baby.”
The chase finally leads to N.N.’s office, where he opens the window and drops his television set on the villian from four stories up. Sorry, no HBO!
The other three No-Frills books are similar in tone and ingredients. The Western starts out,
“Meanwhile, back at the ranch... ” The SF delivers the “giant ants, space cadets and plucky girl” promised on the cover. And the Romance really does contain that event by the sea for all of you event fans.
The generic book may just be the biggest literary development since Sambo’s menu. Jove is so happy, they’re considering some non-fiction releases as well as further novels-by-genre.
You can believe absolutely the blurb page inside when it says “Why pay more? Why shop around? After you’ve read one, you won’t mind the others.”
Isn’t great literature cute?
Rick Johnson
I Am Curious (George)
THE CURIOUS GEORGE BOOKS by H.A. Rey (Houghton Mifflin)
Created as the single dullest character in kidlit during the 1940’s, Curious George continues to omigosh children of all ages. In fact, the snoopy simian is becoming a minor-league cult item to the yawning, yearning masses. His always-astonishing adventures (Curious George, Curious George Gets A Medal, Curious George Rides A Bike, Curious George Learns The Alphabet, Curious George Flies A Kite, Curious George Goes To The Hospital, and Curious George Gets Real Gone For A Change) have been re-issued at a mere two-and-a-half bucks per, each with a cover so nauseatingly yellow it has only been seen heretofore on lawn chairs, Earl Scheib-ed Volkswagens, and David Lee Roth’s hairbrush. Stuffed-monk CG dolls and assorted chimparoni are available, too.
Which is all pretty curious when you delve into the exploits of our inquisitive relative. To describe the Curious George books as dull is to recall Adolf Hitler as a friendly architect. The saga begins when George, sublime and at ease in his African home (eating bananas, listening to Beckola), is captured by the mysterious Man With The Yellow Hat—the only other contributing character in the mono: tomes. The Man, a stick-figured, pipe-smoking old-fashioned good guy (who bears a logical resemblance to Hugh Hefner), is typical of the human stereotypes Rey has perfected: the only expressions people can manifest are shit-eating smiles and addled astonishment. Which isn’t as crazy as it might seem, considering the books they’re running around in. •
Anyway, George is Kunta Kinted to “the big city,” where he tries to make the best of it. Wouldn’t you know that he keeps getting into all sorts of trouble, though? Why? Because he’s so gosh-darned curious about everything! Stuff like America’s swing to the right, how babies are born, and the price of cocaine?? Naw! CG’s into abstract curiosity, like how to dial a telephone, what’s going on outside the zoo, and eating jigsaw puzzles. The chimp’s no dilettante, I’ll tell you.
Like all great literature, the CG stories are rife with weirdo humor, continually-lapsing plots, and made-in-Macomb dialogue. ‘Frinstance: our hero falls down a fire escape, breaks his leg, and is rushed to the hospital. Along comes The Man With The Yellow Hat to pick up a paper at his local newsstand. Every rag on the stand has headlines dealing with the tragedy, e.g., “Monkey Hurt In Fall," “Monkey Goes To Hospital,” and—my favorite—“Monkey Jumps!” Talk about a slow day for news in the big city. Naturally, The Man “got very excited. ‘This is George!' he shouted.” Well, it sure isn’t Christopher Reeve, Mr. Man.
The cool thing about Curious George is that he never stops his snooping and—best of all—he never learns his lesson. Standard kidfare usually finds little lepers learning all the profound and collective wisdom of humanity: “There’s no place like home,” “Interested people are interesting people,” and “If the tumor gets bigger, consult your chiropractor.” None of this junk for crazy George... he just goes bn his merry way, an innocent voyeur who keeps forgetting stuff like concrete is harder than grass. Like the hook says, “Every time he saw someone do something, he wanted to see if he could do it, too.” A chimp for the 80’s, I say.
J. Kordosh