Deviny James was an alias for Jim Pewter, who became better known by his given name as a DJ on KMET-LA and later Armed Forces Radio. “Blue, Blue Denim” – a title that likely aided in endearing him to Gene Vincent, with whom he later collaborated – came out on the Beta label as the flipside to “Little Girl” in 1959. Check out the scorching guitar solo by session ace Larry Hulley and the disembodied backup voices on loan from the house on haunted hill. Thanks to Jerry Richards for this one.

Deviny James – “Blue, Blue Denim”

Although this record comes from the early seventies heyday of the California-centric Jesus Movement, band leader Jim Palosaari – a first generation Finn from the Northern US – apparently had a large scale evangelistic agenda which had him rockin’ all over the world. Jeesus-Rock! came out on the Finnlevy label, which was kind of like the Finnish Warner Bros. until the real life Warner Bros. swallowed it up in ’93. The whole thing’s in English except for two tracks sung in exuberant, American-accented Finnish, including this one – which translates lyrically to “Jesus loves” and musically to “dig my big bass riff, Baby.”

The Sheep – “Jeesus Rakastaa” (1972)

posted by Kim Simpson

I was having a conversation with Kendell, who’d just seen my earlier post about the Klowns, and then he started talking about a session he once played for legendary Klowns producer Jeff Barry (who was a friends with Rig’s first drummer, Tom Cerone). The session was for “Sugar, Sugar,” the 1969 #1 hit you know by heart. So here I am in a position to reveal to the world that the faceless “studio musicians” mentioned often by those pop historians who want to make it clear that cartoon characters didn’t really play on those records, were – in the case of the Archies’ quintessential hit – the guys from Rig. Kendell, sitting at the Wurlitzer electric piano, remembers this comment from Mr. Barry clearest: “Throw in some more of that Jamaican horse sh*t!”  Kendell also says the following: “Maybe we should have let Jeff Barry produce the Rig album. But we were too stuck up for that.”

That’s a generational thing. My generation, weaned on a more aggressive level of pop culture commercialism, revels in the prefab aspects of the Archies, Monkees, and their ilk, while they make the previous generation’s hair stand on end. Let’s not even talk about today’s youth generation, who’s probably never thought negatively about songs appearing in commercials and who will be writing doctoral dissertations about ringtones.

The Archies – “Sugar Sugar” (1969)

This isn’t one of the more memorable songs by these New Zealand weirdos, but you can’t look away. Singer Phil Judd loses his hair before the first minute’s up and the eye-rolling drummer participates only halfway.

From the VW door of clown rockers emerges Leo Sayer. Here he does his very first hit, which peaked at #2 in the UK. We know it better in the US as a #4 hit for Three Dog Night from ’74.

Decidedly more bubblegum than their rivals the Hello People, the Klowns were an experiment hatched by pop song institution Jeff Barry who, fresh off the Archies, clearly had preteens on the brain. The group featured actor Barry Bostwick (perhaps best known for his role as Brad Majors in Rocky Horror) and they hosted one of those single-installment-only TV variety shows we saw countless versions of in the ’70s (Jerry Lewis and Sammy Davis, Jr. were the big ticket guests). Hear their only charting song above and imagine their painted countenances rolling by repeatedly as though you were riding a nightmare carousel.

A spooky 1968 non-album single by these clown rock pioneers. Their appearance on Teen Time (thanks to the YouTube poster) has so many curious things about it: the local-yokel teens (all African-American during the opening title sequence but all Caucasian during the actual taping); the telling facial expression on the host just before the band goes on; and the blissed out performance by the band which is already a bit disturbing even before you realize that they’re singing about Armageddon.

This single (which peaked at #123) kicked off the unique run of late sixties/early seventies mime rock outfit the Hello People. “Mime rock” is a misleading term because they didn’t mime at all, although their white face paint and somewhat exaggerated movements made them look like they were. Hence the weird allure. Notwithstanding my own affection for this single, their overall sound never quite jelled into anything especially singular, but their stage presence made for some memorable TV appearances (stay tuned).

Update (7/11): Whatever prompted me to claim with assurance that the Hello People were not really a mime rock group has been refuted by Richard Gagnon (see comments) who says they would mime on stage in between songs. This makes perfect sense – I sure wish I could have seen this one-of-a-kind band live.

The Hello People – “(As I Went Down to) Jerusalem”

This Italian religious youth cult, which flourished in the God-consciousness flareup of the early seventies, called itself – in full – “The Tribe of Delirium for the Most High Jesahel.” Origins of the term “Jesahel” are unclear, but the tribe would use it interchangeably in reference to the ultimate guiding spirit, as in Jehovah, and to a holy land of both origin and promise, as in Jerusalem. The tribe included no one over thirty, and they would only emerge periodically in large groups – from their headquarters in the high Apennines – just long enough to enliven Italian city street life by chanting and singing as they stood side by side, stiff and upright as soldiers, save for those ever-chugging arms, which continuously expressed their trademark “applause for Jesahel.” (Equally common among them was the outstretched “Jesahel reach” and the “family-clasp,” both of which you can see demonstrated above.) Flute-wielding leader Ivano Fossati, or genitore (parent) as they called him, made the journeys infrequently, preferring to lead from the hills with his seven female co-genitores. Whatever public appearances he did make with the Delirium tribe, though, caused enough furor for their signature mantra “Jesahel” to become an Italian smash hit.

Just kidding – I made all that up, but I prefer it to the truth, which is that “Jesahel” is just a love song by a certain Euro prog rock group.

posted by Kim Simpson

I’ve written plenty here about our friend Kendell Kardt and his former group Rig. But let’s give a listen to the pensive closing track on that lone Rig LP – “Last Time Around” by bassist Don Kerr (standing next to Kendell, who’s on the far left). If you have any doubts the band didn’t have something special going on as a unit, give this a listen and think again.

Rig – “Last Time Around”

posted by Kim Simpson