Doubleshot Tuesday: Gorilla/Flight Of The Conchords

[Today: A guy walks into a bar with a record player under his arm...]

In a classic bit on his late show, David Letterman invited his studio audience to decide – through applause – whether they’d prefer to hear an elderly woman recite her poetry, or watch a fat man jump into a hammock full of eggs. I love rock & roll, but sometimes it starts to sound like a bunch of uber-serious, blue-haired poets. When I need a smile, I have a few reliable standbys in the record collection, including The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band’s Gorilla, from 1967, and Flight Of The Conchords’ self-titled debut from last year.

These albums represent two different types of humor, but both hammer the funny bone time and again. Gorilla is a swinging 60′s artifact, full of British humor that’s both zany and dry. ‘The Intro & The Outro’ introduces an imaginary extended band, featuring Adolph Hitler on vibes and Roy Rogers on Trigger, among dozens of others. It matters little that half the references here have been lost to the mists of time – the song splits the difference between Looney Tunes and Monty Python, and is a winner in spite of its cultural cobwebs. Much the same could be said of the rest of the album – ‘Cool Brittannia’ should have been Austin Powers’ theme, ‘Jollity Farm’ imagines a place where “everything’s a perfect treat” and all the animals sing and dance. Meanwhile, ‘Death Cab For Cutie’ is sung in a faux-Elvis croon, and provided one indie band with a name.

No musical genre seems safe from parody by the New Zealand duo Flight Of The Conchords. Hip-Hop, French pop, overwrought folk, steamy R&B – and all points between – get skewered here. ‘Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros’ takes the swagger out of hip-hop battles by pitting jungle creatures in an epic verbal showdown. ‘Robots’ mocks Kraftwerk while imagining a world taken over by dancing robots. In three minutes and change, ‘Bowie’ sums up the entire career of the man who brought you Ziggy Stardust, and ‘Boom’ might be the greatest dancehall reggae track in existence – if only because it’s intentionally dumbed down and repetitive. Think of Flight Of The Conchords and Gorilla as a pair of fat guys, eagerly waiting to jump into that hammock full of eggs for your amusement…

Listen: Cool Brittannia [Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band]

Listen: Hiphopopotamus Vs. Rhymenoceros [Flight Of The Conchords]

Listen: The Intro And The Outro [Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band]

Listen: The Prince Of Parties [Flight Of The Conchords]

Magic Moment: Dr. Feelgood Do It Right

Pub-Rockers Dr. Feelgood were swept away by the emergence of punk in the mid-70′s, but this group laid down an intense version of R&B that inspired the very groups that made them obsolete. Lead singer Lee Brilleaux (read: Brillo) was as compelling as any punk frontman, and guitarist Wilko Johnson was just nuts. Check out his back-and-forth, across the stage while he madly strums his guitar with the back of his hand…

Weekend Playlist

Here’s a sampling of what passed over our turntable this weekend:

Art Pepper | Intensity

Lee Morgan | Tom Cat

Miles Davis | E.S.P.

Donald Byrd | Long Green: The Savoy Sessions

Duke Ellington | Ellington At Newport

Dexter Gordon | One Flight Up

Johnny Griffin | The Little Giant

Roy Eldridge | Heckler’s Hop: 1935-1940

Booker Little | Booker Little

J.J. Johnson | J.J. Inc.

Gerry Mulligan & Chet Baker | Mulligan/Baker

Thelonious Monk | Monk’s Music

Clark Terry | Serenade To A Bus Seat

Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers | Like Someone In Love

Hank Mobley | The Turnaround!

Charles Mingus | Mingus Ah Um

Buried Treasure: The Sun, Moon & Herbs

[Today: Dr John wades into the black heart of the night...]

In the late-60′s, longtime session musician Mac Rebennack assumed the character of Dr John, The Night Tripper, and with studio time left over on a Sonny & Cher session, cut his debut album Gris Gris. It was a steaming gumbo pot of ‘Nawlins voodoo funk that didn’t sound anything like the work of a seasoned musician – and that was the point. Dr John’s early records were made in Los Angeles, but they sound like they were cut in the swamps of the Bayou.

His 1971 album The Sun, Moon & Herbs features Eric Clapton on slide guitar and credits Mick Jagger as a backup singer, but the music is pure Night Tripper. Songs like ‘Craney Crow’ and ‘Pots On Fire (Filé Gumbo)’ eschew traditional song structure in favor of meandering journeys into the thick humidity of a dark southern night. Dr John’s ragged growl hovers over the hot coals of these slow jams, which are punctuated by the Memphis Horns and choruses of backup singers.

Originally intended as a triple-LP, this album was trimmed back to a single record at the last minute, leaving Dr John disappointed with the results. In 1972, he told NME’s Keith Altham that the songs “…were cut and edited to such a degree that most of the really good numbers were lost. Some of the numbers built very slowly and you just can’t cut that kind of number and expect it to retain its appeal. It’s like trying to reduce Ravel’s Bolero to two minutes.”

But regardless of Dr John’s frustrations, The Sun, Moon & Herbs doesn’t feel chopped and hacked. Instead, it’s a trance-inducing voodoo incantation full of black magic and cane liquor. Like a Bayou swamp at night, the surface sounds here might be most apparent, but the black depths that lurk beneath that surface are inescapable and overwhelming.

Listen: Black John The Conqueror

Listen: Craney Crow

Listen: Pots On Fiyo (Filé Gumbo)/Who I Got To Fall On (If The Pot Get Heavy)