There's a time in life for Hoagy Carmichael. There's a time in life for Claude Debussy. There's a time in life for Jerry Lee Lewis. There's a time in life for Destiny's Child. All these things have their moment. ~Elvis Costello
Procol Harum at the Atlantic City Pop Festival in August 1969. PeterStupar.com
By Jonathan Takiff FOR THE PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER
ifty years ago this August, tens of thousands flocked to a makeshift concert site for three days of peace, love, and their new music. Uh-oh, is this another story about the Woodstock Art and Music Festival turning 50?
Not really.
We’re talking about the Atlantic City Pop Festival, a smaller but significant gathering of the hippie tribes at the Atlantic City Race Track in Mays Landing, N.J., held Aug. 1-3, 1969. An event that predated that infamous Upstate New York festival by two weeks and arguably influenced how the latter would come to pass and be remembered.
But A.C. Pop is rarely noted in the same breath as Woodstock…
Lily Allen can be sassy, bratty, clever and poignant–often all at the same time. “Littlest Things” is a look at how the ordinary moments and mundane memories can take on a rosy hue from the perspective of a relationship’s end:
Sometimes I find myself sittin’ back and reminiscing Especially when I have to watch other people kissin’ And I remember when you started callin’ me your Mrs. All the play fightin’, all the flirtatious disses I’d tell you sad stories about my childhood I don’t know why I trusted you but I knew that I could We’d spend the whole weekend lying in our own dirt I was just so happy in your boxers and your t-shirt
Dreams, dreams Of when we had just started things Dreams of you and me It seems, it seems That I can’t shake those memories I wonder if you have the same dreams too.
The littlest things that take me there I know it sounds lame but its so true I know its not right, but it seems unfair The things are reminding me of you Sometimes I wish we could just pretend Even if for only one weekend So come on, tell me Is this the end?
Drinkin’ tea in bed Watching dvd’s When I discovered all your dirty grotty magazines You’d take me out shopping and all we’d buy is trainers As if we ever needed anything to entertain us The first time that you introduced me to your friends And you could tell that I was nervous, so you held my hand When I was feeling down, you made that face you do No one in the world who could replace you
Dreams, dreams Of when we had just started things Dreams of me and you It seems, it seems That I can’t shake those memories I wonder if you feel the same way too
The littlest things that take me there I know it sounds lame but its so true I know its not right, but it seems unfair The things are reminding me of you Sometimes I wish we could just pretend Even if for only one weekend So come on, tell me Is this the end?
West African singer Angelique Kidjo mixes the influences on 2004’s “Congoleo”, an infectious Afro-Caribbean earworm which features balofon, a West African xylophone-type melodic percussion instrument.
The entire Oyaya! album is an infectious exploration of the cross pollination between Latin and African musical traditions.
Hooks and melodies, the things that distinguish power pop, are the forte of Brendan Benson. If you like music with roots reaching back to the best pop of past decades, you’ll find Benson’s tunes instantly likeable.
This blog recently recognized a most remarkable song and performance, that of Laura Pergolizzi’s “Lost on You”. In this video a vocal coach reacts with delight on her first listen.
