Over the summer, my boys discovered the myriad joys of the music of Tiny Tim, via the recent Rhino Handmade box set I purchased. Since then, our house has been filled with the unlikely sounds of a 12-year-old and a 6-year-old telling that old joke about "The Viper" in comical Transylvanian accents, or fumbling through the lyrics of turn-of-the-last-century pop songs like "On the Old Front Porch". This, I think, is a good thing (James isn't convinced).

The Tiny Tim infatuation has led them - as Tiny Tim infatuations generally do - to the work of Klaus Nomi, a musical kindred spirit who made his name singing - in a gloriously operatic falsetto, no less - technofied, Teutonic variations on 60s and 70s pop songs (and "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead") before his death of AIDS in the early 80s. The aforementioned declaration of friendship with Dorothy was naturally the boys' gateway into the wondrous world of Klaus Nomi. But their travels have since unearthed Nomi's covers of Donna Summer's "I Feel Love" and Doris Troy's "Just One Look".

Granted, these songs are a little before my time even - but I at least knew the originals long before I'd ever heard of Klaus Nomi. Not true for Stew and Leon. For them, it will always be Nomi's clipped, heavily accented pronunciations, and robotic-bird-of-prey falsetto flights that they hear when they hear, say, Lesley Gore's original version of "You Don't Own Me". Oh my gosh! It's that Klaus Nomi song! Yup. Only normal.

This, I think, is a good thing too. I have to think that at some point, the boys will realize that a lot of what Klaus Nomi (and Tiny Tim) was doing was taking beloved source material and making it new and foreign and weird - making us laugh, but maybe also saying something about how times have changed since those songs were first written. And maybe, maybe, maybe, the music of Klaus Nomi will make them curious to hear how Doris Troy sang it. Or how Lou Christie did. Or Donna Summer. And then maybe they'll like it, and they'll seek out other Doris Troy songs, or Lou Christie songs, or Donna Summer songs. And maybe Doris Troy will lead them to Irma Thomas (or Pink Floyd!). And maybe Lou Christie will lead them to Del Shannon or Frankie Valli. And maybe Donna Summer will lead them... to more and more Donna Summer.

I don't think this is such a far-fetched idea. After all, my Dad loved to listen to Spike Jones. And now I not only listen to Spike Jones, but also the Mills Brothers and Leoncavallo.

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The closest, most obvious correlation to be made between Spike Jones and a current artist would be with Weird Al Yankovic. Both men made their names by skewering the most popular songs (and singers) of their day - and became very successful at it. (In both cases, the skewered often saw the skewerings as a status symbol.) The crucial difference between the two, then, is that Weird Al most often did the skewering by changing the lyrics of the original hit to something absurd and, hopefully, funny. "Another One Bites the Dust" became "Another One Rides the Bus." "My Sharona" became "My Bologna." "Like a Virgin" became "Like a Surgeon". But aside from the lyrics (and with the exception of his earliest accordion and armpit fart arrangements), Weird Al attempts to replicate the original song (and video) in almost every other way.

Spike Jones did just the opposite. He changed very little about the actual song. He and his band just played it funny - in a way that may be comparable to Weird Al's polka medleys, but only with a broader sense of comedy (both audio and visual comedy - this, long before MTV) and a more radio-play friendly smorgasbord of sounds to play with - cowbells, and slapsticks, and hiccups, oh my! The recipe for a Spike Jones parody is as follows:

1. Start with a really popular pop song, something that was probably once well-loved by millions of listeners - an Oscar or Grammy-winning movie song preferably - that has since become so ubiquitous that it inspires hateful ballot initiatives in states like North Dakota and Utah against the singers who made them popular. Think "My Heart Will Go On". Or "I Will Always Love You." An overwrought lyric certainly helps things.

2. Make a sincere effort, or rather, make it appear as though you're making a sincere effort. The singer should be a spot-on match for Whitney or Celine, if only a touch hammier (as though that's possible).

3. Incite chaos. Become the singer's most vociferous heckler. If she says the word "tree", get out that sound effect box and shout "Timber!" If she says "heart", pound out a heartbeat on a kettle drum. When she sings "every night in my dreams", snore loudly and insistently (and, if possible, melodically) into the microphone. When she holds that one huge, climactic note - "And IIIIIII-ee-IIIIII-ee-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII" - just a little too long, interrupt her with a gruff command to "turn the page, y'old bat!"

4. Finally, make no concession to taste or moderation. I repeat: Make NO CONCESSION to taste or moderation. Taste and moderation are anathema to the Spike Jones ethos.

And voila! A Spike Jones classic. Sounds easy of course. But, as I suspect is the case with Weird Al, it took a hell of a lot of musicianship and professionalism to produce that sort of chaos and keep it funny both on record and, especially, in his raucous stage show. Spike Jones and His City Slickers struck fear into the hearts and minds of many concert hall owners the way GWAR and Slipknot do today. In the days before electric guitars and Marshall stacks, their reputation as the loudest band in the business was well earned. And while Spike Jones's reputation may be that of a musical funnyman of the old-timey Vaudeville variety - a reputation he occasionally, later in his career, attempted to refute with ill-received "serious" records - he was, first and foremost, a bandleader of the Dorsey or Miller big band variety, well-known for his discipline, and the tightness of the ship he ran.

But mostly, the music of Spike Jones is just funny. And not just a little funny. Over the last week, I've been reacquainting myself with Rhino's now out-of-print two-CD Spike Jones anthology The Musical Depreciation Revue (originally released in partnership with BMG Special Products back when Rhino was still an independent). I'd bought two copies of the collection when it came out in the fall of 1993, one for myself, and one to give my Dad for Christmas that year. I eventually sold my copy when I was a poor graduate student, but recently found a used copy on Amazon for a reasonable price (about $35 - and I had a gift certificate). When it came in the mail, I was both excited to have it, but a little skeptical. Would I still think it was all that funny?

I dunno. Maybe you should ask that lady in the Subaru who pulled up next to me at the stoplight over the lunch hour today - the one who kept glancing over at me with that "what on Earth is up with you" look on her face.

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The Musical Depreciation Revue, named for both Spike Jones and the City Slickers' traveling stage show (which employed a train-car-load of props and gadgets) and one of his albums, collects 40 tracks spanning Jones's heyday from 1940 to 1960, many of which had been out of print since their original releases on 78 rpm singles. (In fact, several of the tracks were mastered from those 78s, so the sound, especially on the earlier tracks, is inconsistent - but generally up to Rhino's - that is, Bill Inglot's - high standards).

The set is also accompanied by a delightful photo-filled booklet with two essays - one very personal, very affectionate "appreciation" by Cub Koda, and another, more encyclopedic (though no less fun) piece by Dr. Demento himself. The collection is valuable not only because it collects so many novelty classics - like the adorable holiday numbers "All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth" and "Ya Wanna Buy a Bunny?" - but also as a kind of socio-musicological document of what Americans were listening to and what was on our minds, and how those things changed between the end of World War II and the beginning of the Rock N' Roll Era.

Some of these songs make you laugh, but it's not necessarily because they're trying to be funny. This is especially true of the tracks dating to the War years. "Der Feuhrer's Face" is definitely full of jokes, but there's also an element of weaponry about it - it's less parody than propaganda. On the other hand, a song like "Leave the Dishes in the Sink, Ma" - a celebration of a son returning home from the war - isn't funny at all. That's not to say it won't make you smile and laugh. It's just not a joke - it's jubilation!

And a song like the wordless "Holiday for Strings", whose already carefree, celebratory melody, played straight the first time through, devolves into a delirious mania with each successive repeat - first played on cowbells, then a melange of sound effects and squirty mouth noises, then a chicken bawking, and finally sung in "ha-ha-ha-ha"s that get increasingly raucous (and contagious). I wasn't around for the end of WW II, but I imagine the reckless giddiness of Spike Jones's "Holiday for Strings" is a perfect embodiment of what the end of the war must have felt like for the people who lived through it.

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Of course, much of the time, the band are just wreaking havoc with tunes from the hit parade, and this collection features a bounty of hilarious parodies that - like Klaus Nomi singing "Just One Look" as heard by kids who've never heard of Doris Troy - are hilarious even if you don't know the originals. In "Chloe", an earnest baritone (early Jones regular Red Ingles) delivers the mournful verses with wide-mouthed grief, only to be interrupted by the clanking of "falling nightshades" and other vividly (and obnoxiously - in a good way) indicative sound effects.

The first verse of "My Old Flame" is completely straightfaced (and quite nice) - but it's followed by a frantic instrumental verse complete with fire sirens and other bells and whistles - which is then followed by another verse sung-spoken by a Peter Lorre-soundalike (cartoon voice actor Paul Frees) playing the part of a murderous psychopath, who punctuates each line with an unhinged and often hilariously gory aside. In a similarly creepy lampoon of Liberace, the 3' 9" midget Billy Barty sings "I'm In the Mood for Love", in between threats (made good) to the stage electrician (that spotlight is too bright) and all-too-oedipal references to "Mother" being in the audience.

The songs turn more into full-blown sketches towards the end of Disc One, and we're introduced to a number of beloved recurring characters (who would also show up on Jones's radio show in the late 50s) like Wild Bild Hiccup and TV announcer Billy Playtex, played by veteran City Slickers like Frank Morgan, Dr. Horatio Q. Birdbath and Sir Frederick Gas (he of the oh-so-gaseous hairdo). George Rock's "kiddie" voice remains a Spike Jones trademark. Doodles Weaver (that would be Sigourney's uncle) plays Winstead the bumbling baritone muddling his way through "The Man on the Flying Trapeze", singing every line several times until he gets the words right (or, more often, doesn't) resulting in a lot of "take-me-drunk-officer-I'm-home" gags all delivered at breakneck, split-gut velocity. Weaver also plays the part of a horse race announcer in a classic sketch based on the "William Tell Overture". Both gags get welcome, but not-quite-as-funny reprises later in the set.

The second disc - mostly sides recorded in the 50s - focuses more heavily on classical works - this at a time when classical music sales (according to Dr. Demento's notes) dominated the record industry with a 40% market share. Arditi's aria "Il Bacio" becomes "Ill Barkio", a duet for soprano and canine (Doc Birdbath) and a theme by Tchaikovsky becomes a soundtrack for a weepy soap opera dialogue - after all, we do have a child, and he has a child, and that child has another husband, and he has another child, and that child, John, is our child. Strauss, Offenbach, and Liszt are all similary brutalized in what Cub Koda calls "inspired travesties". In "Pal-Yat-Chee", a couple of country bumpkins (sung by Homer & Jethro) go to see Leoncavallo's I Pagliacci thinking it's a Western (get it?), and are shocked, awed, and deeply, deeply disturbed by what they find instead:

All at once, there's a fat guy in a clown suit
T'ain't Hollerween, that's fer shor!
Then this here feller, this paunchy neller, starts to beller
Like we all was deeef!

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It's sad that this bountiful collection is now so hard to find, because it remains the most succinct and comprehensive collection (not to mention the best sounding, and most adoringly packaged) of Spike Jones' work to date. There's really nothing here that's less than classic and, as a whole, these 40 tracks evoke so much reckless, wanton joy that it's hard to imagine anyone not getting a good laugh out of it... even if they don't know the story of Pagliacci, or have never heard Doris Day singing "Secret Love". Spike Jones's humor was rarely topical - it was more in the vein of The Three Stooges, Abbott & Costello, or, for a more current reference point, Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion radio sketches.

It's still a great gift for Dad (or Grandpa), but just remember to pick up a copy for yourself while you're at it (if you can afford it). And I imagine it'll soon be on my sons' hit parade pretty soon too.

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BECAUSE YOU NEED TO KNOW:

"The Musical Depreciation Revue: An Anthology" by Spike Jones and His City Slickers
Rhino / RCA Special Products
Released 1993
Compilation Produced by Cub Koda and Dr. Demento

SONGS: Clink Clink Another Drink - Der Feuhrer's Face - The Sheik of Araby - Hotcha Cornia - Cocktails for Two - Leave the Dishes in the Sink, Ma - Holiday for Strings - Chloe - That Old Black Magic - You Always Hurt the One You Love - Liebestraum - The Glow Worm - Hawaiian War Chant - Laura - Jones Polka - Love in Bloom - The Man on the Flying Trapeze - My Old Flame - All I Want for Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth) - Happy New Year - William Tell Overture - Ill Barkio (Il Bacio) - None But the Lonely Heart (A Soapoperetta) - Ya Wanna Buy a Bunny? - Dance of the Hours - Wild Bill Hiccup - Barney Google - Morpheus - Rhapsody from Hunger(y) - Black Bottom - Pal-Yat-Chee - Yes! We Have No Bananas - April Showers - I Went to Your Wedding - Secret Love - I'm in the Mood for Love - Black and Blue Danube Waltz - The Late Late Late Movies, Part II - I Only Have Eyes for You



Recommended: Yes