Hollies Holy Love

Real Cool Time Podcast, 2/17/2009: D.C.'s birthday indulgence programming--a whole lotta Hollies! [If I sound incoherent/inarticulate in my backsells, it's only 'cause I was coasting on three hours' sleep--sorry!]

Don't worry, this ain't that kind of tribute show--none of 'em have died lately or anything like that. Rocky merely offered to let me go hog wild and play whatever I wanted on this birthday-coinciding program, and since I'm in the midst of one of my periodic Hollie-phases I figured we'd have a long-overdue Hollies-a-thon. One of the delights in digging them derives from gradually perceiving their multi-dimensions and the subtle nuances you may have missed during earlier investigations. This time around though, something not-so-subtle finally reared its lovely head.

In nearly 25 years of fandom, how could I have failed to notice until quite recently that Tony Hicks is THEE most adorable specimen of guitar-slung manhood EVER??!!?? The music man of my dreams has been hiding in plain sight and earshot for decades now and I was rather oblivious--what the hell was wrong with me? Perhaps I was simply too mesmerized by the band's sound to pay super-close attention to their visuals. Maybe the full-frontal Clarke-Nash assault overshadowed dear unshowy Tony's formidable forgotten-third fab-gear-ness. Whatever--I may have been an unobservant ditzy-dame before, but I'm makin' with the retroactive Hicksie admiration in spades now, and my delayed reaction to his quiet charisma renders this all the more intense. A tastefully kick-arse guitarist, a fine songwriter and song-picker, a sweet-voiced singer (who didn't record nearly enough lead vocals), an affable bloke by all accounts, an absolute paragon of '60s mannish-boy beauty (those moves, those haircuts, those boss threads, those Newman-blue eyes, that incomparable face, that SMILE!), possessed of an uncanny ability to make even '70s flares and hair look good, and damned if he isn't still the handsome pickin'-&-grinnin' gent today--Tony is the captivatingly complete package and is fast becoming my all-time numero-uno rock & roll dreamboat crush!!!

Can we 'ave this up a bit, I'm on me bloody knees 'ere!

Les Skifflettes in 1957--12-year-old Tony is third from the right, nearly dwarfed by that hollowbody. Was there ever a cooler name for a skiffle band? I think not.

Ricky Shaw and the Dolphins, from whence Tony, Bobby, and later Bernie were poached.

All-FOX man is more like it! It's the NOW sound, it's what's happening!

An all-around exciting shot, yet I cannot tear my eyes away from the lower-left corner.

Why do they want us to walk when we can FLY?

Whoa! These are the tightest, penis-compressin'est, sperm-killin'est, testicle-grippin'est trousers I ever tried on!

Honestly, I don't mean to sex-objectify the man too much. I can't tell you how many past hours I've spent aurally transfixed by his playing and lower-harmonizing, while hardly visualizing him at all, even after some video exposure--so believe me, my attraction is rooted in his art. But gals, if you're in need of a right powerful profound way to enhance your Hollimmersion, do yourself a favor and fritter your life away with the multitude of Hollies videos that even more obsessive die-hards than me have uploaded to youtube. [Guys will find much to appreciate too, especially in the precious live footage.] Watch Tony closely all the while--no mean feat with a stud-frontman like Allan Clarke commanding your attention, or when the Shindig cameramen cut to the go-go dancers during Tony's solos, but believe me, you won't be sorry! A few longtime lovestruck Hicksies have also produced some drool-worthy crash-course compendia in Tony-iconography, must-sees all. I'm even delving deeply into the '70s catalogue, which I'd only lent a cursory ear to before--but I've spared you such noodling here, lest you start mockingly whining "All I neeeeeed is theee aaaaaair that I breeeeeeeathe" at me in your most adenoidal tone, as Rocky has been wont to do!

Little Lover

When I'm Not There
When I Come Home to You
Don’t You Even Care
The Very Last Day
It’s You
Stop Stop Stop [Live ’66]

*Cub--You Know He Did
*The Evaporators—Pouvatel (Come on Back)
*JB & the Playboys--My Delight

*The Plague--Searchin'

*Bernie Early--Rock Doll [RIP Dewey Martin...He might be drumming on this!]

*The Buffalo Springfield--On the Way Home [He's definitely drumming on this.]

*The Guess Who--Flying on the Ground is Wrong
*The Mynah Birds—It’s My Time
Kill Me Quick
Have You Ever Loved Somebody
Open Up Your Eyes
When Your Light’s Turned On
Like Every Time Before
Step Inside
Leave Me