Forgotten Albums: Anne Richmond Boston, The Big House of Time

My wife’s sister lives in the suburban Atlanta area. Despite our regular visits there over the years, I’ve yet to set foot in Wax ‘n Facts, a semi-famous record store that’s been in the Little Five Points district for over 40 years. Expect this oversight to be corrected on our next visit to see Ruth.

The co-founder of Wax ‘n Facts is Danny Beard, who subsequently stumbled into becoming a record producer and the proprietor of DB Records, a small label that punched above its weight during a twenty-year existence. DB’s biggest moment was probably its first, when it released the original version of the B-52’s “Rock Lobster.” The label became a launching pad for other groups (mostly originating in Georgia) that graduated to major-label status, including Fetchin Bones, Guadalcanal Diary, the Swimming Pool Q’s, and the Reivers. The last of these became a favorite of mine in the early 90s.

The lead singer for the Swimming Pool Q’s, Anne Richmond Boston, left the group after their 1986 album Blue Tomorrow flopped and they lost their deal with A&M. (If you want to know what the Q’s sounded like, check out “The Bells Ring.”) She resurfaced four years later on, yep, DB Records, with a delightful album titled The Big House of Time. Of course it didn’t sell well, and soon found itself relegated to cutout bins across the country. I scooped it up in Lexington for $2.99 not long before I moved back to Kentucky in the fall of 1992 (a sticker with the price is still on the jewel case). It’s perhaps the most obscure album I’ve written up in this series–I can find clips for just four of its eleven songs. Fortunately, they’re all among the disk’s best tracks.

The opening song is the cheery “Dreaming,” one that Boston wrote with her husband Rob Gal.

A majority of the tunes on The Big House of Time are covers. One is John Hiatt’s “Learning How to Love You,” from his breakthrough Bring the Family. Boston brings an enthusiasm that’s a welcome contrast to the somber, acoustic treatment in the original.

The other two songs I’m able to embed can be found on mixtapes I made for myself around thirty years ago. The closing track on one them (I wrote it up here) is her take on the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “Darling Be Home Soon.”

Finally, Boston offers a driving version of Neil Young’s “When You Dance I Can Really Love.” While a faithful cover in terms of arrangement, it’s (dare I say it?) an improvement on the original.

I wish I could offer up other cuts now (maybe I’ll add some should they ever appear). Should you ever come across a copy of TBHoT, it might be worth a small investment (used copies start at $11 on Amazon these days).

DB Records lasted until 1997. The only other DB releases in my collection are the first and fourth Reivers albums, Translate Slowly and Pop Beloved. Given how much I enjoy what I have, I imagine I’d do well to jump on other DB disks should I ever see them.

This weekend included the memorial service for my college roommate James. I’m not going to attempt any sort of summary, at least just now–I’m still processing it all, I suppose. If you’re interested, my friend Warren did a fine job of expressing his experience of the event here.

Songs Casey Never Played, 6/8/85

Assembled the songs for this a week ago, but just couldn’t get in the mood to finish it off. Summertime blues, maybe?

Regardless, here are six tunes from the 6/8/85 Hot 100 that couldn’t cross the Rubicon into Casey-land. I was definitely aware of all of them at the time, either via Lexington’s AOR station or album purchase. Let’s rock it out some.

89. Kim Mitchell, “Go for Soda”
Starting off today with a Canadian rocker who’s less than a month away from his 70th birthday. “Patio Lanterns” was the bigger hit in his native land, but south of the border we were much more into this song encouraging us to lay off the beer for a night. It almost made top 10 on the rock chart, but had stalled out at #86 here a week earlier.

85. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, “Make It Better (Forget About Me)”
At the time, new material from Petty qualified as must-buy, and I picked up Southern Accents not long after it was released in late March. “Don’t Come Around Here No More” was plenty good, and I liked “It Ain’t Nothin’ to Me” (even if it was an undisciplined mess). On the whole, though, I was disappointed, and I struggled to hear a second hit single on it. Turns out I was right: this follow-up, even with some swell horn action, limped only to #54, and a few months later “Rebels” (maybe the better song) peaked at #71.

71. Foreigner, “Reaction to Action”
Agent Provocateur had been in my collection since Christmas break, and it was another LP that wound up receiving limited play. The “Check-one-one-one” opening on what became its third single definitely caught my attention when I first heard it, but man, are the lyrics to “Reaction to Action” dumb. I guess they were trying to mine the “Hot Blooded” vein again, but clearly that had been tapped out in 1978. This also reached #54.

69. The Hooters, “All You Zombies”
I don’t care what you say–I like this song. While the biblical references are admittedly strained, Hyman, Bazilian, et. al. wind up making their point. It’s no “And We Danced,” but it’s always a welcome play in my house. Made it to #58.

53. John Fogerty, “Centerfield”
Maybe folks today are surprised that the title track from Fogerty’s comeback-of-the-year album didn’t crack the 40–it fell four slots short of Casey putting it into play.. Thirty-seven years on, it’s certainly the most well-known song of the six in this post; I’m guessing that album sales cut into the potential for a third big hit.

52. Gino Vannelli, “Black Cars”
I have the 45 for this, though I’m thinking I didn’t buy it in ’85. I was glad to hear Vannelli rock it out a little after the much more languid “Living Inside Myself” from four years earlier, even if I’m in the distinct minority based on chart peak (the engine died at #42 for “Black Cars”). It’s always fun to watch for dead technology in videos–look at all those Polaroid cameras…

Modern Rock Tracks, 6/6/92

May and June were busy months thirty years ago. I covered part of what happened then in early 2020, but to recap briefly: after going 0-for-March-and-April on getting job interviews, I scored opportunities at a couple of small schools, one in northern Indiana in mid-May that didn’t pan out, and one in north-central Kentucky during the first week of June that did. Once I had an offer from my soon-to-be (and still current) employer in hand, I scheduled my dissertation defense; it wound up happening on my father’s 61st birthday, toward the end of June.

I spent a lot of time on the road during this period: if I’m reconstructing correctly, it was home to Kentucky after classes ended to see family and college friends, up to Indiana for the first interview, over to Urbana again for a few days, including an appearance at a bridge tournament, then back to Kentucky for the second interview. During that second trip to the Bluegrass, my 81-year-old grandmother underwent heart surgery, so lots of relatives were around to visit. (She came out of it just fine, living almost nine more years.) Gran was the first to learn of my job offer; I leaned over and whispered the news to her in her hospital bed.

I was mostly flipping between stations while in the car throughout the period, sometimes Top 40 (big fan of what Tom Cochrane and En Vogue had on offer that spring), occasionally country (Mary Chapin Carpenter was the main attraction–more on her in the August installment of this series, believe it or not), and college/alternative when I could find it. As usual when traveling between Florence and Indianapolis, I’d tune in to WOXY in Oxford, OH. That’s how I was introduced to several of the songs discussed below–#24, #16, and #14, in particular.

25. Tom Tom Club, “Sunshine and Ecstasy”
Dark Sneak Love Action, the Club’s fourth album, had just been released. “Sunshine and Ecstasy” is trippy and groovy, but there is no mystery as to why Tina or Chris were featured as vocalist on any Talking Heads tune.

24. Meryn Cadell, “The Sweater”
Boy, do I love this piece. It’s so eminently quotable, and you can be sure many of its lines run through my head plenty–“different is NOT what you’re looking for,” “Monday…wear the sweater…to school,” “definitely wear lip gloss,” “you realize that love made you temporarily blind.” The favorite, though, gets wheeled out anytime a certain synthetic substance arises in conversation, in almost any context: “100% acrylic.”

23. Curve, “Horror Head”
Hearing “Horror Head” in Record Service prompted me to buy Doppelgänger and led to a minor obsession with Curve. Maybe a tossup whether this or “Coast Is Clear” is my fave of theirs.

Greg was already familiar with Toni Halliday’s 1988 solo work Hearts and Handshakes–you can definitely hear in “Time Turns Around” where her future was headed.

21. Pearl Jam, “Even Flow”
This was a much bigger hit on the Album Rock Tracks chart. Gotta say I’d much rather hear it now than “Jeremy.”

18. L7, “Pretend We’re Dead”
The first compact disk I purchased in 1990 (don’t ask me why or how I remember) was an obscure compilation called The Radio Tokyo Tapes, Volume 4: Women. Radio Tokyo was a studio in Los Angeles operated by Ethan James, who served as the disk’s producer and also played on several of the tracks. The overall conceit of the (wildly eclectic) compilation was to try to break some new female voices/bands. A few of the acts appearing on Women did wind up with record deals, but the only one to have any sort of chart success was the rock quartet L7. (For the really curious, here’s a link to “Sweet Sex,” their contribution to Women.)

Now I need to pull that CD out and listen to its highlights (there are a few) again.

17. Ride, “Twisterella”
Time for this post’s lost gem–I’m aghast at having missed it in real time. Amazingly close to perfect: fabulous bass line, snazzy drum fills, chiming guitars, charmingly cryptic lyrics, and everybody’s showing their best moves in the video, to boot. Put this one on replay.

16. Indigo Girls, “Galileo”
Rites of Passage is my favorite album from Emily Saliers and Amy Ray, and this meditation on reincarnation (which includes what I’ve always taken as a playful jab at Shirley MacLaine) is one of its best songs.

14. Annie Lennox, “Why”
Diva was the first we’d heard from Lennox post-Eurythmics. She gives a great performance on “Why,” though I happen to like “Walking on Broken Glass” and “Little Bird” better.

12. Material Issue, “What Girls Want”
Maybe Destination Universe was a case of sophomore slump, a bit rushed to capitalize on the momentum of International Pop Overthrow? I’ll admit I wasn’t as taken by “What Girls Want” as I had been with their earlier singles.

11. The Beautiful South, “We Are Each Other”
We last visited the Beautiful South a little over two years ago, when “You Keep It All In” paid a trip to the MRT charts. This one turned out to be their most popular song on this side of the pond.

7. Cracker, “Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now)”
Things former Camper Van Beethoven leader David Lowery and his new band think are needed: a new kind of tension, true words of wisdom, and a new Frank Sinatra. Another folk singer, on the other hand…

5. The Charlatans, “Weirdo”
This one sure had gone down the memory hole, not that it’s especially regrettable to be the case. Two weeks earlier it had been #1 on this chart. The Charlatans had only a little more success on the U.S. alternative scene but kept generating hits in Britain for another decade.

3. The Soup Dragons, “Divine Thing”
In contrast, this Scottish band was almost to the end of their line; Hotwired would be their final album to generate any traction anywhere. “Divine Thing” would make the U.S. Top 40 in September, eventually peaking at #35. I’ll grant it’s got a memorable riff.

2. The Cure, “Friday I’m in Love”
The days-of-the-week litany in the verses is cute enough, but it’s the bridge that pulls everything together and convinces me that our protagonist really is in love, dammit.

1. XTC, “The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead”
Is Peter a stand-in for JFK? Jesus? Some random populist dude? All or none of the above? Got me; what I do know is I was disappointed that Nonsuch became the last new music from XTC until almost the end of the decade.