(Phil Lynott with Grand Slam - short lived - shorter life)

For all the popularity and success Phil Lynott had fronting Thin Lizzy, his next band Grand Slam couldn't get arrested for a label deal. A very short lived exercise in frustration from 1984 to 1985, Grand Slam nonetheless had a great reputation among the Hard Rock community for their live gigs which they performed quite a bit. This concert, recorded by the BBC in 1984 offers a rare sample of what they were like live and makes you wonder why they couldn't get signed to a label. It probably might have happened had Lynott not died in January 1986 from heart, liver and kidney failure owing to a life of drugs and alcohol.

Sometimes fate has other plans.

(Jacques Tati aka: Mister Hulot)

I couldn't do any week of World Cinema without including at least one soundtrack from a Jacques Tati film. Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (Mister Hulot's Holiday) has been referred by a lot of film critics and historians as one of the greatest film comedies of all time. Several friends of mine have never heard of it. So I suspect, being a film made in 1953, it may have missed a lot of people's "must see" lists of great films just because some great things can be overlooked.

And that's why we have Netflix.

Tonight's track, Quel temps fait-il a Paris is the main (and only) theme of the film and plays throughout. And by the end of the film you know it by heart. Which isn't such a bad thing as it's a pretty straight ahead Jazz number. So until you get a chance to see the film (if you already haven't), here's a taste of what you'll be hearing.

(Arthur Lee and Love - It just wouldn't be L.A. without them)

Anybody who grew up in L.A. and was old enough (or look old enough) to get into any of the clubs lining the Sunset Strip in the 1960s remembers Arthur Lee and Love. They were such a fixture to the L.A. scene that it was hard to separate the two. They were just synonymous with everything L.A. was all about during those days,

And if you were in a band, you knew "7&7is" by heart and played it every time you got together. It became the anthem of every garage band from Santa Monica to Palm Springs.

But Love were so much more than a garage band's garage band. They were smart, innovative and above all, constantly evolving.

One of their classic albums was Forever Changes from 1967. In a year of pivotal albums from the rock world in general, Forever Changes stands out as one of the great ones. It has never faded, it has never become a curio of a bygone day and it has never lost its beauty.

This track, The Red Telephone has always been a favorite of mine.

If you haven't heard it lately, check it out for a few.

(Fala - Resented the right wing smears he heard nightly on the radio)

Take heart. When you think the insanity, the attacks, the lunacy have gotten out of hand, there is always more. There always was. In 1944, at the height of the Presidential election, FDR observed a new low had been reached.

FDR: “These Republican leaders have not been content with attacks on me, or on my wife, or on my sons. No. Not content with that. They now include my little dog Fala.”

And so little Fala, the White House dog, was not immune to the brickbats, smears and innuendos.

Further evidence insanity can always get worse.

(UB-40 - One of the plus sides to the 80s)

UB40. From the Little Baggariddim album. "Don't Break My Heart" - it sounds like it's got Sunday night written all over it.

If you don't consider the politics, the 80s weren't so bad after all.

(A little close to home)

I think I heard this song once when it first came out in 1970 and only on an FM station. Needless to say, it didn't race up the charts.

From the best I can figure out, Fresh weren't actually a real band, but the brainchild of producers Ray Singer and Simon Napier-Bell, producers responsible for a lot of 60's hits in Britain. The musicians listed were Roger Chantler, drums Kevin Francis, bass and Bob Gorman, guitar. There were only two albums issued by this "group": Fresh Out Of Borstal and Fresh Today. And then nothing.

So Stoned In Saigon was an anti-war anthem that came out just around the time anti-war sentiment was at a high. In 1970 we had the invasion Cambodia and the shootings at Kent State and word back in the states was drug use was rampant in Vietnam.

So needless to say, I think the song's heart was in the right place, but it's sentiment was probably a little too close to home for the casual Rock Radio listener.

In any event - here it is.