The Jam “Going Underground” / “The Dreams of Children”

Here’s an odd bit of business: I was recently going back to some of my favorite music from 40 and 50 years ago and finding that some of it doesn’t hold up for me. It’s hard to believe I liked it so much. But there’s a good side to that, too: Sometimes I can “discover” music that I once totally dismissed and despised—and hearing it now—I’m surprised to find it compelling. Not totally unrelated: Today’s random selection—two three-minute songs from The Jam on a 1980 promo 45—where’d I get it? Who knows—but since today’s fickle pointer descended on it, I’m going to do an experiment and predict my reaction before hearing it. One word: Lukewarm. For most punk bands, it was over by 1980—already planning their county fair reunion tours. Not that The Jam were a punk band, really—they were a really good pop band—but they played faster and with more energy than anyone—or were right up there. (There were some real coffee drinkers back then.) I remembered writing about—in the early days of this site—four The Jam LPs I used to have—so I went back and looked over those reviews. Interesting—I was expecting to hate them, by then, but found myself loving those records. So… weird. This single dates just after that—what will it sound like?

I wish I could say I was wrong, but both songs sound about like I expected—like The Jam—high energy pop songs with good jangly guitar and expressive bass—lyrics-wise what we used to call “political” songs—about social issues, etc., which is nice. But music-wise, I’m not feeling it. I don’t particularly like “Going Underground,” and I don’t think it’s gonna grow on me. There’s way too much happening, structurally, musically—it could have ended in several places before it did. They managed to make three minutes feel like 30. Too much going on for a pop song—or, really, for a mini-series. “The Dreams of Children” is more interesting, at least on first listen. But it grows old fast—again, overly complicated for what it is. Both of these songs could benefit by being, each, half as long. Oh well, now it seems a little ironic that the last The Jam record I own is this one—that I don’t even like—and I wish I had those first four LPs that I lost. Some advice to the kids—try to hang onto your old records for as long as you can (or whatever equivalent objects of importance from your younger days might be). There may come a time when you’re glad to dust them off and rediscover them.

Elvis Costello and The Attractions “Live at Hollywood High”

Where did this record come from? It’s a three-song promo 33 1/3 seven-inch that came as a bonus with the “Armed Forces” LP—in 1979. Much later, a full-length recording of the show was released. This one, dated 1978 (the date of the show), consists of the songs: “Accidents Will Happen,” “Alison,” and “Watching the Detectives.” There isn’t much to recommend this little record (except that it’s little)—unless you like live recordings (I don’t, generally). It’s got a paper cover with a bold, primary-color, paint-spatter design—that all these years haven’t managed to foment, for me, anything in the nostalgia bin. Speaking of which—I’m still tired of two of these songs—heard them too much—and probably always will be. And they’re fine songs—just heard them too much. The exception is “Alison,” which has always been my favorite Elvis Costello song. The loud, fast, aggressive, and angry stuff doesn’t age well—at least not to me—but a lovely sounding pop love song does—and this is a particularly good one. Well, it’s angry, too, but also sad, and there’s some ambiguity among the lyrics. And there’s definitely some sadness and regret—which goes really well with just how totally pretty the song is.

John Ernst Café

This is a promotional record from 1958 (according to the internet) for John Ernst Café—it says: “Milwaukee’s Oldest Restaurant… John Ernst Café – Offers Old World Charm” – and the music consists of, on the first side (introduced by John Ernst), Irv and Chet on violin and organ bringing you a “medley of favorite European and American numbers” requested nightly at the café. Then on side two, Doris and Ernie Wicki (who don’t seem to have a Wikipedia page) on accordion, vocals, and bass violin – “our Swiss entertainers” with “Alpine musical treats.” The sound recording is nice (by Dave Kennedy) and you can imagine that you’re in the room there with the performers and people dining. There’s a couple of small photos of the entertainers on the back cover, sharing the spotlight with photos of what might be Weiner Schnitzel, Kassler Rippen, Sauerbraten, Cornish Game Hen, and Lobster. It’s signed to “Joe and Kate” (formerly custodians of this LP) “regards + best wishes, violinistically yours, Irv Brykczynski (I think—he ran out of space!) and Chester Vincent. On the cover, John Ernst welcomes you to the door (also, signed by him) and says “Welkommen.” There’s a nice picture of the café, on Ogden Street, at Jackson, which you will recognize as still being there, but now taken over as a Chipotle, a Panera Bread, and something else. Sad, but at least they didn’t tear it all down to build another of those lifeless, four floor apartment buildings. I was living in Milwaukee while John Ernst Café was still operating and I failed to dine there—one of my many, many regrets. At the point that they closed, my friends and I checked the dumpster each day as they cleaned the place out. It had to be the most magical dumpster of all time. For years, I displayed things like the decorative crows I found there. I have an old menu, but I’ll be damned if I can find it, now. I do have a typed out “Luncheon” menu from September 16, 1965, hanging on my wall. My kind of lunch—liver and onions for $1.75—as is “Koenigsburger Klops with Caper Sauce.” But if you want to splurge, South African Lobster Tail is $5—and “Mocha Torte” is 40 cents. Coffee is 15 cents, and you can get a Stein of imported beer for 75 cents!