Thursday, August 27, 2015

The Heat May Be On, But Glenn Frey's Blood Runs Ice Cold

It begins with soft, metallic clanging, like wind chimes shifting in the breeze. Then there is a demonic "unwinding" noise, akin to a drawbridge slowly descending over a moat, or the doors of the Taj Mahal opening one massive hinge at a time, perhaps. With a gigantic WHOOSH, out comes that diabolical instrument, unleashed into the night: the saxophone.

On a soundtrack dominated by electro-funk, Glenn Frey showed up with the Yuppie Rock, and this time, he brought the heat.

The heat was not without its irony however. Just as Kenny Loggins, a perfectly capable songwriter, didn't write "Danger Zone," so Glenn Frey, a man who surely knew his way around a pop composition or two, didn't actually write "The Heat Is On." I know, I just shattered all your childhood dreams. We can take a moment to rest, if you need it.

"Danger Zone," of course, was written by the producer of the Top Gun soundtrack, the supremely lubricative Giorgio Moroder, and so it's only fitting that "The Heat Is On" was co-written by one of Moroder's proteges, and the producer of the Beverly Hills Cop soundtrack, the only slightly less lubricative Harold Faltermeyer. So yes, Glenn Frey didn't actually compose what arguably turned out to be his biggest solo hit. I'm almost positive that Don Henley has never avoided an opportunity to remind Glenn of this little factoid every chance he gets. In sound, style, and attitude, though, "The Heat Is On" is much closer to "Footloose" than "Danger Zone," with its Winwood-esque keyboards, giddy hand claps, and "get up and rock this party" chorus (although this song probably hasn't rocked a party in a long, long time - maybe your step-dad's retirement party?).

But that's not the most amusing part. The most amusing part about the fact that Frey didn't write "The Heat Is On" is that the lyrics, with their overall nebulousness and pseudo-tough guy posturing, still fit in perfectly with the man's whole wannabe badass aesthetic. In other words, if he didn't come up with this shit, he easily could have. What exactly is the titular "heat" in question?
The heat is on
On the street
Inside your head
On every beat
And the beat's alive
Deep inside
The pressure's high
Just to stay alive
'Cause the heat is on
Is he cooking Top Ramen or something? Is it wintertime? Why the hell is the heat on? You're jacking up the energy bill buddy. Well, I guess he's supposed to be talking about cops, you know, the "law," the "fuzz," the "man." Maybe it's a prescient statement on global warming. No wait, I think I've got it: it's a song about gonorrhea.


The video features another in a long line of '80s film editors (possibly Jude Law's uncle?) who fancy themselves rock stars. Listen dude, you better leave the rocking out to Glenn Frey and his hypnotically androgynous sax player. As far as Glenn's gender is concerned, of course, there can be no doubt, as he's sporting some prominent chest hair, as well as a serious five o'clock shadow. If the "heat" is really "on," he should probably shave that thing. Most unintentionally hilarious moment(s): Glenn taking a break from his patented "eyes closed" singing method in order to stare directly into the camera and, after four suspenseful drum beats (or, as we're somewhat led to believe, microphone fist pounds), provocatively mouth the word "on" (1:35 and 2:24).

Thursday, August 20, 2015

"I Feel The Magic" All Right - In My Groin AKA Belinda's Hair Gets Its Own Solo Career

Looking for the gooeyist, chewiest, frothiest, bubbliest '80s pop song in the history of the universe? Fellow Cosmic Americans, I give you Belinda Carlisle's "I Feel The Magic."

If any of her old punk and New Wave fans and peers might have kinda sorta found the charm in "Mad About You," after hearing "I Feel The Magic," they probably ran for the hills. With the first one, they figured, "Yeah, OK, she wants to dip her toes into a little mainstream pop, just to see what it feels like, get it out of her system, whatever, cool, let's move on." But "I Feel The Magic" is so ... bouncy. It's so aggressively bouncy. It's like Lesley Gore's "Sunshine, Lollipops And Rainbows" on androstenedione. It is the point where Belinda gleefully demonstrated that she didn't give a shit how ridiculous her solo career got. It is Miles Copeland's worst nightmare.

While finding stylistic inspiration in the '60s girl group sound was certainly nothing novel for our newly crowned Queen of Yuppie Rock (her former band having tapped that source in about half its material), "I Feel The Magic" shows Belinda doing it without much of the ironic twist or sly wink that the Go-Go's brought to the task. I think songs like "We Got The Beat" or "Skidmarks On My Heart" were trying to send up the corniness of the original genre, mock it a little. "I Feel The Magic" embraces that corniness with a big cuddly hug. I'm pretty sure Belinda heard the demo and said, "Ooh, this is just like all those Motown and Phil Spector songs I used to sit around and listen to in my bedroom! I wanna do a song like that!" In the past, her band mates might have intervened, but now ... there was no one to stop her. Well, Charlotte could have stopped her, except for the fact that she co-wrote the thing. At any rate, maybe Super-Gooey Belinda was a little too much for the American public; whereas "Mad About You" soared to #3, "I Feel The Magic" petered out at #82. I guess not enough people felt the magic?

Honestly, I want to keep making fun of it, but the sad truth is that I unequivocally adore this song as I unequivocally adore anything ever touched by the precious hand of Belinda. Seriously, anyone else think this should have been way bigger than it was? As a shameless piece of '60s retro-fluff, it's right on the money. First of all, listen to that raging army of bells and tambourines in the background. A couple of years ago I recall reading a YouTube exchange (I think it's gone now) where one commentator wrote, "This sounds like a Christmas song," and another commentator responded, "With Belinda, it's always Christmas." Precisely, my friend, precisely. Then there are the comical saxophone interjections taken, perhaps accidentally, from Coasters songs like "Yakety Yak" and "Along Came Jones," although the solo kind of reminds me of the sax solo from Supertramp's "It's Raining Again," which probably wasn't the idea. The single would have been even more of a spot-on homage if it weren't for the ill-advised drum production (particularly egregious at the start of the chorus), which probably dates the song faster than a Micro Machines reference. Then there is also the employment of the term "angel baby," which conjures up recollections of Rosie & the Originals' "Angel Baby" and Shelly Fabares' "Johnny Angel." To summarize the plot of the piece, last night (AKA 1984) Belinda gave up on herself, and then "in a dream," she saw Morgan's face, so, now she "feel[s] the magic like [she] never felt before":
Last night I gave up on myself
I hit the bed, tell me what should I do
And in a dream I saw your face
It's more than just a face
You make me want to give my heart away

I feel the magic
Like I never felt before
I imagine that it's always been there
I feel the magic
There's an angel looking after me
Angel baby give me more and more

Today I woke up by myself
I hit the streets, I wondered what should I do
I never noticed from the start
That I could feel alive again
That I could feel a part of
Sometimes you really have to bounce back from a coke addiction and marry a Yuppie husband in order to bring the necessary level of conviction to cheese this musty.



Now, hard as it may be to believe, but the video for "I Feel The Magic" is even fluffier than the song is. It is literally fluffy. The video should've sported the subtitle, "Belinda's Hair." There must have been an army of stylists sitting around off-camera, just blow-drying her hair to perfection. Not to mention the make-up people, the wardrobe consultants, skin lotion experts, etc. etc. Then again, this was still IRS Records we're talking about. It looks like it was filmed in an abandoned warehouse, and they just shoved Belinda onto a sound stage with a camera and a bunch of cute outfits and let the magic roll. Just take the opening shot. She's cooing "ooh ooh" in a partially unbuttoned light blue button-up blouse while her golden locks flutter all around her. Why is it so windy in there? Somebody close the window. Then she's running around, being chased by a giant spotlight, wearing a red sweater that's sliding off her shoulders. Did she just break out of prison? Turn on the rest of the lights! A couple of shots later, she's sitting down in the red sweater, and her hair's all wet. Did she just get out of the shower or something? Maybe the blow-drying stylists were on their lunch break? Get her a towel! At this rate, maybe she should have just done a shampoo ad. Oh wait a second, she actually did:

Oh, then she's in a purple business suit, her hair pinned up in a bun (almost looking red - a look which I thought came a little later?), leaning against a model of the Eiffel Tower (that just happened to be there?), and smoking a cigarette. It's funny to read YouTube comments which chastise her for smoking in a music video. Believe me, cigarettes were the least of this woman's vices. One person wrote, "She's smoking? YUCK, SICK!," but another commentator quickly added, "She's smoking alright. Smoking hot!" Nice one. Other highlights:
Very close to "Mad About You" video era, at her absolute peak of hotness, and that is a REALLY high level of hotness.

How could she ever wake up by herself ?

She's the most beautiful woman who ever drew a breath.

perfect toe tappin hips gyrating belinda carlisle we salute you

I've got some magic for you to feel too...

Sexy. Black tank, blue denim shirt. Oh man.

The song is unmemorable, like most of her songs, (the only two that mattered were Heaven Is A Place On Earth and Circles In The Sand), but I fully remember now why I was crushing so hard on this hot as hell woman back in the 80's. Her look, her smile, just unreal, so damn beautiful.
"Unmemorable"? You know what, buddy? You're unmemorable. So then she twirls around in a denim shirt over a ... black sleeveless dress? Whose idea was that? We even get some of the "avant-garde" green tinted low-res footage previously seen in the "Mad About You" video. Honestly, the woman's physical charms at this stage of her career were plentiful, but this video might be a little too much - even for me. "Mad About You" had some subtlety to it; "I Feel The Magic" is just so "in your face." Watch as she cozies up to the wall (1:22), plops down onto a conveniently-placed love seat (1:35) ... dear God. Could it be? Had Belinda finally transformed into ... Snuggle the fabric softener bear?

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Zrbo Reviews: Psy'Aviah's The Xenogamous Endeavor

Belgian based Psy'Aviah continues to lurk around the periphery of the electronic mainstream with output that sounds solid but doesn't ever receive much buzz. It's a real shame, because with each album the act continues to deliver with more consistency by diversifying their sound. Released last year, but only having reached my ears recently, Psy'Aviah's newest album, The Xenogamous Endeavor, is really quite excellent.

I first became aware of Psy'Aviah a few years ago when I somehow stumbled upon them while browsing YouTube. Based out of Antwerp, what initially drew me towards the band was that it was an electronic/EBM/industrial band fronted by a female. In the male dominated genre of EBM, Psy'Aviah sounded like a breath of fresh air. Front woman Emélie Nicolaï wasn't just your typical Euro-sounding female dubbed over some trance music. Songs such as "My List" and "Song of Independence" were personal and distinctly feminine (the former is a song about what the singer is looking for in a man), a far cry from the usual shouty-growly vocals of males in the genre. Long time readers of this blog may remember that I chose Psy'Aviah's cover of Shakira's "Timor" as one of my favorite songs of 2012.

Occasionally, to add some variety, the band would employ a guest vocalist. There was also some guy who was part of the group who would sing on a track or two, but I never paid much attention to him.

Turns out I didn't know a hell of a lot. That "guy", Yves Schelpe, is the actual brains behind the outfit. On The Xenogamous Endeavor Emélie is nowhere to be found (left the band perhaps?), instead replaced by a revolving door of various Euro-sounding females. And though I just dissed those generic Euro-sounding females, the thing is, strangely, I really like this album.

This is Psy'Aviah's most diverse album yet. It starts with the energizing "Long Way", an energy building song that sits somewhere between electro-industrial and pop, that gets the album moving. Then it moves into "Sacrifices" which may be my favorite track. There's a confidence and flow in the way guest vocalist Mari Kattman delivers those verses that's just addicting. At first it was just another song, but with repeated listens it's gotten stuck in my head and refuses to dislodge.

The middle of the album is perhaps its weak point. "Our Common End" and "Bevor Ich Sterbe" are perhaps a bit too slow while "Deliverance" tries a bit too hard to sound edgy.

At two-thirds through, when your typical album might begin to lose steam, comes a streak of terrific songs leading to the end, each one remarkably different than the last.

That streak begins with "On My Mind", a mid-tempo number that begins with vocalist Lisa Nascimento repeatedly whispering "Hours/minutes/seconds/days". The first few times I found this terribly annoying, partly because of her peculiar accent. Now, however, I enjoy how it serves as the buildup to that slinky beat, plus I like how the whispering is incorporated later on when it's brought back to match the beat.

But it only gets better from there. Next up is "The Parts You Can't See". Reminding me a bit like a track by the band Air, the song has a nice, chill feel with the comparisons to Air only exacerbated by a french-sounding chanteuse (Kyoko Baertsoen) on vocals.

Jumping genres again, next is "Never Enough". The best way for me to describe "Never Enough" is to say it sounds uncannily like a Lady Gaga cut. Even the vocal delivery could be mistaken for Gaga. It's dance mixed with pop, and sounds great.

"Get Your Tickets" is a spoken word, almost hip-hop track that deploys more F-bombs per second than should reasonably be allowed. It reminds me greatly of KFMDM's 1996 song "Dogma", which also utilized a confident, assertive female spoken word track to great effect. Here it's by Suzi Q. Smith. It's absolutely not safe for work.

And just like that, the album immediately shifts gears to a stoned beat and a wailing guitar with "Last of Us". Finally the album ends with the instrumental "In Uthenera (Leliana's Song)". It really sounds like it's from the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, complete with harp and female vocals singing in a language I can't identify (elvish? gibberish?).

It's a shame that Psy'Aviah already used the title Eclectric for one of their previous albums because The Xenogamous Endeavor couldn't be more eclectic. It's a mishmash of industrial, EBM, and euro-pop, with a dash of hip-hop and electro-clash thrown in for good measure. The band began firmly in more industrial territory and has been slowly experimenting around with different sounds with each album. One of their previous albums, Introspection/Extrospection had hinted at experimentation with different genres, but with The Xenogamous Endeavor they've really gone all out.

Overall this is an absolutely solid album and I highly recommend it. 5/5 Zrbo points.

Highlights: Sacrifices, On My Mind, The Parts You Can't See, Get Your Tickets

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

He's Got New Wave Right In The Palmer Of His Hand

Quick: which thirtysomething late '70s blue-eyed soul/bar band singer totally tried to latch onto New Wave? Let me give you a ... clue.

Many mainstream pop musicians tried to go New Wave in the '80s, but I think Robert Palmer actually did. Clues isn't just an imitation New Wave album; I think it actually is one. Not only did he cover a song by Gary Numan, he actually co-wrote a song with Gary Numan. Not only did he try to pilfer Talking Heads' drum sound, he pilfered Talking Heads' actual drummer.

Hold on a second. So apparently Palmer was hanging out at his preferred recording studio in the Bahamas around the same time Talking Heads were recording Remain In Light, and I guess at some point Palmer played "percussion" on that album - although with Talking Heads and Brian Eno, that could have involved anything. Eno album credits have included instruments such as "snake guitar" and "uncertain piano." Palmer could have played, who knows, "dragonfly bongos." But when it came time to record his own album, I guess he used Chris Franz on "Looking For Clues."

"Looking For Clues" sounds like either a sped up version of LTD's "Back In Love Again" or an off-key version of Paul McCartney's "Coming Up," but I might like it more than either (best part: the moment right after the chorus where half the percussion completely drops out for a couple of seconds and it sounds like the entire song is getting stuck in the tape machine). I first heard it on Just Can't Get Enough: New Wave Hits of the '80s, Vol. 3. I remember downloading the collection and thinking, "Robert Palmer on a New Wave compilation? Should he really be on there?" Oh, he should be on there all right. In fact, when the song first came on, I wasn't looking at my mp3 player and I started to wonder, as I so often do, who the artist was. When I looked and saw "Robert Palmer" I was like ... wuuuuut.

Here's another question for you: is this the "real" music video, or just a clip from some random European show that was slapped together an hour before airtime with the cast of a local children's theatre troupe?



"Johnny And Mary" stalled at #44 in the UK and didn't do squat in the US, but it was a top ten hit in France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, and every other country successfully invaded by the Nazis, so there you go. It is also the winner of Little Earl's "Best Video Featuring Mimes" award.



The album also includes a not-terrible-at-all cover of  the Beatles' "Not A Second Time," sort of an obscurity in the sense that Cadmium is an obscure element on the Periodic Table: in other words, for those whose business it is to be knowledgeable in such matters, it's not really that obscure. But how's this for balls: Palmer covered a Beatles song ... and wrote a new verse of his own! At least he didn't insist on altering the writing credit. Is it just me, or is there something funny about the sound of "Lennon/McCartney/Palmer"?

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

O'er The Land Of The Frida And The Home Of Gated Drumming AKA "There's Something Going On" With Phil And A Bag Of Snails

Although millions of sensitive souls the world over were surely and profoundly moved by Phil Collins' Face Value, one highly unlikely and very sensitive soul was moved far more profoundly than any other: Anni-Frid Lyngstad. Otherwise known as ABBA's Frida.

By 1982, it was just about the bottom of the 9th for our beloved Swedish foursome, with two outs and nobody on. And it turns out Phil wasn't the only mega-platinum rock star feeling the searing pangs of divorce. While recovering from the dissolution of her marriage to band mate Benny Andersson, she heard a certain mega-hit on the radio:
"Me and my daughter drove to my summer place, and she had a little cassette with different songs on it, and she played one and it was "In The Air Tonight," and I ... I mean ... I immediately felt that this was really a strong song, and I asked her, 'Who is it?" ... I listened to him for almost eight months, every day."
Phil Collins, meet your target audience.

When it came time to make her first post-ABBA solo album, Frida must have had the pick of the production litter, but deep inside, she knew of only one man who could reach into that special place and give her the '80s make-over she so desperately craved. From Wikipedia:
She wanted to break away from being associated with the group and make a fresh start both as an artist and as an individual. The new songs, new musicians, and new producer gave Frida a new identity. Collins' production and especially his unique gated drum sound heard throughout the album as well as the rough and raw guitar riffs of the lead single "I Know There's Something Going On" made it perfectly clear this was no "lightweight" ABBA record.
Yeah man! This ain't no "lightweight" ABBA record; she's teamed up with Phil Collins! Sure, go ahead and snicker. Maybe the album wasn't about to send Motorhead into retirement, but "I Know There's Something Going On" (written, not by Phil, but by Russ Ballard, famed author of everything from Three Dog Night's "Liar" and Kiss' "God Gave Rock And Roll To You" to Santana's "Winning" and America's "You Can Do Magic") was definitely more "In The Air Tonight" than "Fernando."



Listen to that mammoth wall of thunder. "Frida" may have been printed on the record sleeve, but after catching about 1.59 seconds of that drum intro, everyone and their mother knew who the real artist was here. To paraphrase Pulp Fiction, "And I will strike down upon these drums with great vengeance, and furious anger ... and you will know my name is Phil Collins." By the time those eerily mechanized backing vocals jumped in on the chorus with their patented ethereal crispness, the five people who hadn't figured it out already couldn't dare ignore the obvious. Who needs Benny & Bjorn ... when you've got Phil?

Of the two ABBA leads, Agnetha was always the Big Cheese, and yet she never managed a solo hit as large as "I Know There's Something Going On," which hit the Top 5 in just about any country you'd care to name (and, interestingly, did better in the US than the UK, hitting #13 in America but only #43 in Britain, despite ABBA historically having been more popular in the UK). Then again, did Agnetha ever snag Phil Collins? Didn't think so.

The man also knew his way around a duet, as closing track "Here We'll Stay" proves, despite the chorus sounding like the exit music to a game show. Check out Phil doing his best Barry Gibb high harmony at 0:39! Oddly, per Wikipedia, "When it was decided to release the song as a single in 1983, Collins declined to be associated with the track, and Frida re-recorded the song as a solo version." Why the cold feet, Phil? Afraid of ... overexposure? Like that'd ever stopped you before.



At this point you're thinking, "Man! I would've paid money to be a fly on the wall during those sessions." Well guess what? Thanks to this riveting making-of documentary produced by ABBA's record label that I found on YouTube (in three parts), you can witness Frida and Phil in action ... for free. Highlights:
  • Watching Phil as the master of his domain, pounding the mixing console with his fist, conducting the singing with pencils in his hands, his every command dutifully obeyed
  • The Phil "Phashion" show on phull display: Blue flannel shirt, t-shirt & suspenders, greenish-grey button-up shirt (with sleeves rolled up), brown wool vest (over striped button-up shirt), etc.
  • The Earth, Wind & Fire horn section making what appears to be its first-ever trip to Scandinavia
  • "I said to Frida, at the beginning of it, you know, when I first met her, I said 'What kind of thing are you doing?' And she said, 'I don't really know, but I like Pat Benatar, I'd like it to be a bit like that, a bit heavier and raunchier' ... so all I had to go on was Pat Benatar. I've never heard her music, Pat Benatar. Frida bought me a record while I was over here." Two thoughts: 1) Never heard of Pat Benatar? What were you spending all your time listening to, Wayne Newton? 2) "Heavier and raunchier" ... like Pat Benatar? That's pretty heavy and raunchy Frida. You better be careful or the video might have to be aired after 10pm.
  • Frida asking Phil to write a song for her, but he's too lazy, so he says, "Hey I've got a better idea: how about you do a song I've already written, but you'll do it ... differently?" So he has her cover "You Know What I Mean" from Face Value, but gives it the "She's Leaving Home" treatment, turns it into some kind of Elizabethan madrigal.
  • Paul McCartney stopping by to watch everyone eat dinner during the string overdub session in London, arguably coming off ... less egotistical than Phil Collins?
  • Benny and Bjorn talking about how much they really, really want to write a song for Frida's album ... but they never do.


All right, so I can see what was in this for Frida, but what about Phil? Why, out of all the billions of dynamic singers to be found in the English speaking world (and beyond), did he decide hone his production chops with ABBA's second-most famous vocalist? This shocking passage from In The Air Tonight finally explains the previously inexplicable:
The truth is, I could've given a flying fuck about ABBA and the frozen fjord they crawled out of. Didn't know an ABBA song from an Eskimo queef. The reason I produced that album for Frida is because she'd caught me at an ... inopportune moment.

I was backstage at Top of the Pops. We'd just done "Paperlate." All those doe-eyed admirers, basking in the supposedly "cute" and "harmless" glow of Phil Collins. It's always those exact moments, presenting that pathetic happy-go-lucky image to the public, where I feel the need to smother myself in filth, careen into the kink, lock the door and tear that wholesome Collins image to shreds.

The night before, I'd been watching some black market Sri Lankan porn with one of our roadies, Mick. He'd just got back from a trip there. He said they had some interesting habits down there, ways of getting off that we'd never even considered in stuffy old England. For instance, he said, in their culture, one of their ancients symbols of desire was the snail. Sri Lankans had secret erotic traditions involving snails that had gone back centuries. Centuries! So I asked him what kind of traditions, and he said that when Sri Lankan men reached a certain age, they would place snails on their genitals and turn it into a whole little ceremony, like their version of Tantric sex. He said I really had to try it, that it was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He said that down in Sri Lanka, he was known by the name Mick Yurturuli Tuli, which translated as, "Slick Mick, With Snails On His Dick." I knew I had to give it a shot.

I ran to my dressing room and pulled out a bag. I'd spent the morning in my garden, trying to collect the strongest, healthiest ones. I'd put them all in a plastic bag and hid it in my bureau. The moment had finally come. I slipped out of my undies and began placing them on my business. I thought I'd locked the door, but I was so intoxicated with the thrill of this Sri Lankan ritual that, I suppose in my haste and nervousness, I may have overlooked a crucial piece of the plan. The slippery goo was really starting to do it for me. Mick called it an "Escarg-orgasm." I was feeling the rush like I'd never felt before in my whole perverted existence, when the door opened.

"Phil, hi, I've always wanted to meet you and -"

Suddenly a woman with a spiky brown mullet and an excess of eyeliner barged into my dressing room.

"Oh my God Phil, I didn't know -"

"Wait, wait!" I said in mortification. "It's - it's not what it looks like!"

"I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry, I'll come back later -"

"I thought it was locked! I thought it was locked!" No man has ever ripped mollusks off his dick faster than I did just then. "Hold on, stay there!"

An awkward silence permeated the room. "Listen, Phil, I'm Frida. You know, from ABBA."

"I'll be right with you, just let me - " In my haste to cover up, I accidentally crushed a few of my playthings under my feet.

"I ... just wanted to say I ... loved your album, I mean, it really spoke to me."

"Thanks, thanks a lot. You didn't see anything, you got that?"

"Did you just put a bunch of ... you know ... on your ..."

"Look, Frida, it was just a gag. It was a prank, all right?"

"A prank? For whom?" She paused in thought, and then her eyes opened wide from a sudden revelation. "Phil, I'll tell you what. I will never tell a soul about any of this ... on one condition."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"If you produce my solo album."

"Oh come on Frida, your music is like Spam, I can't go anywhere near that shit."

"But Phil, listen, I need to change my image, I need to go in a whole new direction. I need to leave ABBA behind."

"Nice try, Swedish meatball, but forget it."

"So, Phil ... you wouldn't want anybody to hear about your little ... adventures, now would you?"

"Aaaaah, what do you mean?"

"You wouldn't want to be known as a ..."

"As a what?"

"A snail fucker."

I had no choice. And it was just as well, because the album turned out pretty good! Originally we had a song about the whole incident, "I Know There's Something Going On," the "something" being me having snails on my dick, but we took that out and it just became another kinda paranoid adultery thing. Yep. Frida was a class act all the way.