Of all the record stores in the world, I keep coming back to my local shop, Record Safari, because it is the one place that still surprises me. Going through their Instagram account, they tend to post their vinyl on a daily basis. Some people obsessively read the Daily Racing Forum or keep track of the daily Wall Street stock market. Still, my addiction to their Instagram page can lead me to aural adventures that I forgot about in the first place—for example, the first and only album by The Sidewinders. They posted this on their page, and it reminded me of 1972 when looking at the Village Voice music section for clues of a better life than the hell that was (or is) Topanga Canyon circa. 1970s.
I was aware of this album when it was released in 1972 by RCA Records because I was super in-tuned with the releases that year due to the magic being produced by David Bowie and the presence of the legendary Lou Reed of the Velvet Underground for that label. For a moment, RCA was happening. Sophisticated, slightly grown-up music and signs of demented genius seemed to be the specialty of that label. RCA artists were like Greek Gods (even Elvis), and being aware of their presence in pop culture made them essential. Keep in mind I only knew a tiny bit of The Velvet’s history, which was a lot more than knowing their music, which was, at that time, a bit of a mystery to me. It was mainly the press that introduced me to the underground music world, with some assistance from my Dad, who was also interested in the NYC music climate. Andy Warhol produced their first album; they have a song called Heroin, so what more did I need to know besides The Velvets doing a series of shows at Max’s Kansas City, which to me appeared to be the Land of Oz somewhere in Manhattan. I fell in love with the photographs and the journalistic writings by those who came into the orbiting world of the Warhol Factory; therefore, The Velvets’ music must have been magnificent. The lead figure at that time was Lou Reed, which struck me as a perfect name for someone to look up to and admire from afar. If I wanted to get deeper into that world, to see what was behind the curtain, it made sense to check on The Sidewinders.
They were not the Velvets, but they did replace that band as regulars at Max’s, and therefore, that meant the Warhol crowd knew of them, so they were worth the investigation. The thing is, I couldn’t find that much information, nor could I find their RCA debut release. They were, at the very best, a footnote to that exciting era in the NYC rock landscape. That's not bad from a band that was from Boston. Still, Andy Paley was the only one in The Sidewinders I knew about. To me, he’s a ghost figure that runs through American pop music but seems to tip-toed through the active mines that were very much part of the music world.
After The Sidewinders, he and his equally beautiful brother Jonathan Paley put together The Paley Brothers, whose primary focus was power-pop in the mid-70s, in an era of Punk and Post-Punk rock. While others wanted a reputation, The Paley Brothers wanted the teenage readers' attention at Tiger Beat, but it wasn’t meant to happen. Still, there is something brilliant about a teen idol duo running around the environment of the experiential punk rock world. Andy eventually ended up in California to work with Brian Wilson. They wrote and made demos/recordings, but the majority of the fruits of their collaboration have never been released, except here and there or on the first official solo Brian Wilson album. I suspect that Paley may have inspired Wilson to continue on a creative streak, but only history will tell in the future. But the beautiful thought of Andy Paley knowing where the entrance was but never stayed long enough to carve success from the meat of the music world. But he did tour with Patti Smith and even worked with Madonna, and is now a soundtrack writer for Cartoons and more.
What I find interesting is that he is the beautiful man in The Sidewinders, in that Björn Andrésen/Tadzio in Death in Venice stance, among the rock n’ roll dudes. And he may be a fellow dude, yet the two pictures of Paley make him look like he belongs to the world of Jim Carroll and the poet/painter Rene Ricard rather than a Boston bar band. The music they made was good but nowhere exceptional like other bands of that era, such as the New York Dolls and the Lou/Doug Yule Velvets era. But there was a spark in their music, but it didn’t lead to a flame, just a sound of warmth.
The production by Lenny Kaye is straightforward enough, with a clear sound of every instrument on the recording. One can hear each contribution on this album; there are no blurred sounds, but it is crystal clear to listen to a lead guitar, rhythm guitar, electric bass, drums, and voice by Paley. It reminds me of Richard Robinson’s first Lou Reed album production, also on RCA and around the same time. There is something very clinical about the overall sound, and the songs are fine, but they lack arrangements. It is like going to the Kabuki Theater, where one notices how one-dimensional and flat the stage looks. Everything on that theater platform is equal, and so is the sound of The Sidewinders album.
The album sold poorly but got some critical notices, but it died. And as far as I know, it has never been reissued on CD, nor is it streaming (except for some songs on YouTube). The Sidewinders are not essential, but their failure is a strength because I feel that they must have lived in a fascinating time and made music when there was a livid and exciting music scene. So, even a warped reception of that era and some of its citizens is incredibly worthwhile. What Andy Paley should have done is gone solo, but then again, I’m presuming that he’s in a good place, career-wise. As for RCA, whenever you buy a Dynaflex disc, I’m not sure about the quality of the record, but the music is usually excellent.
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