Sam Sacks Sings!

Sing it Again, Sam! is quite simply, the greatest vocal achievement ever committed to vinyl.  My friend Matt found it years ago at a yard sale and was unable to pass it by after seeing this fantastic cover shot of Sam Sacks.  He made a copy of it for me but, unfortunately, his original was lost to fire some years back.  I don't think I have ever heard anything like it before or since.

Who is Sam Sacks, you ask?  Do you mean to tell me you've never heard of his virtuoso vocalist, often described (on this very record, in fact) as a "singer's singer?"  Just listen to Sam's wonderful rendition of "Ol' Man River" and hear the range in his voice as he reinterprets this classic to truly make it his.  Or how about the amazing version of Neil Sedaka's 50's hit, "Diana."  Of course, Sam also has his temperamental side as most of the greats do which  is evidenced by his irritable insistence in being the one to announce the song titles at the start of "You Too, You Too."  One of the greatest features of this album is that alternate takes are often included, showing how Sam strives to get each song just right as is heard on "That Old Black Magic" and "There's Only One of You."  Nothing of course, can compare to Sam's absolute masterpiece, "Yodel Blues."  Just hearing Sam tear in to chorus, you can help but sing along.  What more can I say about Sam  but "Diddely doo, diddely doo, diddely diddely diddely doo, diddely diddely diddely doo-ooo, diddely diddely doo!"

(To hear the rest of the album, you can visit the WFMU blog.)

Evel Knievel is Dead. Long Live Evel Knievel.

When I was a kid I loved Evel Knievel.  Part of it was the toys.  Part of it was his seemingly (to me, at least) weekly appearance on ABC's Wide World of Sports.  But another part was that I watched the biopic made I don't know when and starring I don't know who when I was in first grade.

When I was in first grade, my town held a sleep over for all the grade school boys (maybe it was just first grade, I can't remember).  We got a flyer at school about it and all the boys in my class were talking about the sleep over.  It was to be held at another school (Highland School, a place I would attend the next year and grow to loathe so much that I still sometimes get hives and feel a sick foreboding sense of doom whenever I drive past it while visiting my mother).  We'd arrive sometime after dinner, have a bunch of evening activities and then sleep in our sleeping bags on the gym floor.  One of my friends at school (David, I think his name was) said he was going to go.  Completely uncharacteristically of me, I said I was also going and asked my parents.  They said yes.  I was not the type of kid to just jump into some social situation like this.  I was shy, kind of quiet until I got to know people, and didn't really like large groups (sort of like I am now).  A town-wide sleepover was the exact sort of event I would normally avoid (and later would whenever possible).  I'm still not sure why I decided to go.  I guess it seemed like fun.   And I had a friend who would be there.

It was Friday night and the night of the sleep over.  My friend and I both assured each other we'd see one another at Highland School.  I packed my bag and grabbed my brand new Captain Marvel sleeping bag (bought especially for the occasion) and my father drove me to the school. When we got there we went to the sign in table and I looked for my friend.  He was nowhere to be found.  I felt kind of queasy and wished I could go home.  I remember my father staying a little longer than he might have normally.  I think he thought I would ask to go home with him.  I can't remember what I said to him but eventually he left with my assurances that my friend would eventually show up.  Needless to say, he never did.

I really don't remember what I did that night except that I remember feeling absolutely and utterly terrified.  I did not know a single kid there.  I was in a gym filled with yelling, laughing boys who I did not know.  They played basketball, talked to each other, ran, maybe even sang songs.  I really can't remember.  I do remember looking for my friend the whole night, hoping he'd somehow show up but knowing that he wouldn't.  When it became clear to me that he wasn't coming, I just waited for bed time and when that came, I lay on the floor in my sleeping bag, feeling the cold hardwood of the gym underneath me, and tried to sleep which I eventually did.

We had some activities the next morning but I really don't remember them.  What I do remember was eating breakfast from those little cereal boxes that came in the variety packs.  They were the kind that you lay on their back, cut open the front of the box where it was marked, poured your milk into the inner bag after you tore it open and then ate your cereal straight out of the box.  Now this was heaven.  I loved those cereal boxes.  I loved that you could eat right out of the box. I loved that I could get Apple Jacks because my family never  bought Apple Jacks.  I really loved those boxes of cereal.

After breakfast, there was a movie.  I don't think I knew that there would be a movie and I had no idea what movie it would be.  What it was, though, was the Evel Knievel movie.  I knew who Evel was at the time (I think every kid in 1976 knew who he was) but I had no idea there was a movie about him.  Finding this out was as amazing and wonderful as when I found out there was a Batman movie when it was shown on TV on a rainy Saturday afternoon while my mother and sister were sick and taking naps.  Here was Evel, from his early days as a hood.  Here was Evel,  racing his motorcycle down streets.  Here was Evel jumping cars with that motorcycle.  And finally, here was Evel riding his motorcycle and wearing that totally awesome white jumpsuit with blue and red stripes and stars and cape!  I was enthralled.  I was in awe.  Evel Knievel had become my new hero.  After spending a night and a morning in absolute abject misery, Evel Knievel had come and rescued me with his death defying feats and his bad-ass I-don't-give-a-crap attitude.

I later learned about how he wasn't such a nice guy, how he spent time in prison, how he was more famous for his crashes than his successful jumps.  But I've never forgotten how Evel Knievel came and found me on a dreary Saturday morning and took me for a ride on his motorcycle in that dark elementary school auditorium.