Author Archives: Jon Sidel

Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

My my my I’m so happy / We gonna join the band / We are gonna dance and sing in celebration / We’re in the promised land

Oh, there is a train that leaves the station / Heading for your destination / But the price you pay to nowhere has increased a dollar more / Yes, it has! / And if you walk you’re gonna get there / And though it takes a little longer / And when you see it in the distance you will wring your hands and moan

Yesterday was the son’s last day of 9th grade. Unlike his “idelic rock ‘n’ roll dad,” Jonah is not very sentimental.

Oh, that feeling of racing home to drop the needle on Alice Cooper, throwing on my favorite t-shirt, and heading to the school yards to party with my crew.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

I hear voices from the outside / All I wonder is if you care about me

Oh my God, I wish I could talk to you / And tell those things that I know by heart / Then I’ll get much closer and kiss your lips / You might think I’m fresh, but / If you please / Don’t take me wrong / All I want is that you get to want me / Don’t take me wrong

Been away from The Idelic Hour for a couple weeks. Our host TVD was on spring break.

Over here we’re gearing up for final exams as baseball season kicks into summer gear. All in all we’re looking forward to summer, bought a new beach umbrella, a big bottle of sun block, and just need to fix a few dings on Jonah’s surfboards.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

This is stranger than love for us, / Turning backwards to face the demon, / No excuse for a wasted life, / Lightly falling through a whisper of sky. / It’s the weight of the world, I know, as I’m struggling to be. / It’s the weight of the world, I know, as you were mine, and we will find

Spring is here. Yep, pretty much. Birds are chirping and I have to think kids in this canyon and the valleys below are falling in love. Well whatever a kid would call “the look of love” today.

Before I rocket to the 4th dimension for the weekend, here are a handful of new records mixed with a cherished stack of vinyl from what seems like yesterday, but in truth is now decades ago.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

I pity the country / I pity the state / And the mind of a man / Who thrives on hate / Small are the lives / Of cheats and of buyers / Of bigoted news press / Fascist town criers / Deception annoys me / Deception destroys me / The Bill of Rights throws me

In Laurel Canyon there is something to be said about sitting in one’s backyard meditating—the stillness and chirping of birds, the distant rumbling of construction. In LA someone is always tearing down or building up. This said, if I can find 10 or 15 minutes of peace and harmony with nature and the universe…

Well, I’m into it!

A couple days ago it was a quiet and beautiful morning. I looked up and there was a man high in a palm tree. Only in LA man, only in LA.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

LA is a great big freeway / Put a hundred down and buy a car / In a week, maybe two, they’ll make you a star / Weeks turn into years, how quick they pass / And all the stars that never were / Are parking cars and pumping gas

Forget that today is cold and wet in the canyon. This week started as Spring. Yes, and all the obvious accolades come to mind. Flowers blooming, baseball, and all things new. New songs, bands, art movements, and of course loves. I started a new Spotify playlist called Spring Fibre.

New, new, new. Find me something new! And may we put what’s new on a shiny pedestal and worship it?

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

I’m a shock trooper in a stooper / Yes I am. / I’m a Nazi shatze / You know I fight for fatherland. / I’m a shock trooper in a stupor / Yes I am. / I’m a Nazi shatz / You know I fight for fatherland. / Little German boy / Being pushed around. / Little German boy / In a German town. / Today your love, tomorrow the world!

Today my dad would have been 89 years old. I thought about him this week and this morning. As I say in the show, I don’t want The Idelic Hour to be an OB column, but I did feel the need to salute a friend’s dad, his rock ‘n’ roll journey, and epic label.

I believe I bought my first Sire record from Bleecker Bob’s at a rock convention at a seedy midtown NYC hotel in February 1977. “Blitzkrieg Bop/Havana Affair” fittingly came in a green sleeve. At the time I didn’t know what a green sleeve was, but I can honestly say this two sided record was the most crass, primal, and cool sounding band I had ever heard.

It wouldn’t take long before I came to know Sire (along with Stiff Records) as a badge of punk rock. Before that I never thought the “o-hole” (aka label) on a 45 could stand for something. It was a seed, a signpost, to what would become my life’s work.

First wave went from Ramones, Dead Boys, Saints, Undertones, Richard Hell’s “Blank Generation” to “Ca Plane Pour Moi!” Next came the ’80s and it was my turn to join in on the fun.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

I beg your pardon / I never promised you a rose garden / Along with the sunshine / There’s gotta be a little rain sometime / When you take you gotta give so live and let live or let go / Oh-whoa-whoa-whoa / I beg your pardon / I never promised you a rose garden

I beg your pardon. I believe it’s spring! It’s sunny out, but this morning was cold as fuck. Speaking for southern Californians, “we’ve had enough.” Spare us the fools and bring back our sunshine. After all it’s April fools—a little spare change and sunshine…be nice.

Last night I dragged Susan out on a frigid evening to attend the LA opening of King Pleasure, an art show/ experience of the work and life of the late Jean-Michel Basquiat. I’m grateful to have known Jean. Over the years, I’ve always had mixed feelings about “poor Jean,” and often used the “saga of Jean-Michel” as a reference to give artists advice.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

Fake tales of San Francisco / Echo through the air / And there’s a few bored faces at the back, all / Wishing they weren’t there / And as the microphone squeaks / A young girl’s telephone beeps / Yeah, she’s dashing for the exit / Oh, she’s running to the streets outside / “Oh, you’ve saved me”, she screams down the line / “The band were fucking wank and I’m not having a nice time”

I’ve always loved a Brit singing about a destination he/she’s never been to. That crop of turn of the millennium UK dreamers (Alex Turner, Gomez, Badly Drawn Boy, Turin Brakes, Malcolm Middleton etc.) are an easy go-to on a cold, rainy afternoon.

This week will be remembered for an unmistakably “British” rain. Dark, moody, with a chill that you can feel through the floorboards.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

Well, I never paid the rent / And I never paid no telephone bill / And I ain’t never had a job / And I’m glad and I hope I never will / But my mom yesterday / She asked me how I was doin’ / I said I’m pretty good / But I don’t know if I’m gonna eat today / I don’t know if I’m gonna eat today / But I’m gonna try… / I’m gonna try, try, try… / I swear to God, I’m gonna try…

My perception of time is warped, or the world is spinning at a vicious rate. Likely both. Many of us seem to be hanging onto the rails for our lives. The view from this “ferris wheel” we’ll call “023,” is beautiful but treacherous. Personally, I try to be heathy but as the day gets long I look for treats.

I do often start the day with oatmeal. It warms my soul on cold winter mornings. So does a voice, or a line from a song.

This week’s Idelic Hour started with a crate of records I compiled a few weeks ago. Funny, most of those discs remain unchecked as I’ve opted to play an assortment of new releases mixed with an odd, a sod, and a nod to Dixi D, and fond memories of playing in bands.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

Hold on, when the train is moving / through the sound of change / And tell those boys back in town / that there will be a call / Oooo train is comin’ on / Oooo train is comin’ on / A train is comin’ your way / and it sounds like, / just like a chase straight through the season / or why not through your heart / It makes us see the strength that / surrounds us in all / our failures / Just like the train in the film Doctor Zhivago

Years ago I took a job doing A&R for Richard Branson’s label V2 Records. Often people ask me about signing the White Stripes to the label. I often fondly tell them the story of meeting Swedish singer Nicoali Dunger and his manager Per.

I was asked by Mercury Rev to meet Nicolai while he was in LA and arranged to meet him at Hugo’s on Santa Monica Blvd. I drank coffee and talked fast. They smiled, nodded, and said “Ya, ya, ya.” At some point they gave me a CD. I remember liking the cover and flipped it over to view the track listing.

“You have a song called “Doctor Zhivago’s Train.”

They smiled. “Ya, ya, ya.”

“No, that’s a really cool name for a song.”

“Ya, ya, ya.”

“I’m actually going to listen to this.”

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

Life is a wheel that drives me mad / Trying to find my way / Life is a wheel don’t know where I’m bound / Sometimes I’ve had to say

Where can I hide / Where can I hide / Where can I hide / When so many times I’ve failed

Growing up Jewish, an offspring of the “old country,” and a touch privileged in New York City, I have eaten at the The Russian Tea Room many times. It was often said often said that the Tea Room’s Chicken Kiev was better than the best in Kiev. The Tea Room was simply one my favorite fancy restaurants growing up. After my high school graduation, the Sidels dined there for lunch. I have never been to Russia or Kiev. From the look of things, I likely never will?

On occasion I do pop by Grandma’s Russian Deli in Studio City for the most authentic and excellent borscht and chicken. Borscht is a winter routine I developed at Teresa’s in New York’s lower east side. The day I stumbled into Grandma’s, the woman who runs the spot was very flirty and intrigued. She took no time in talking to me in her tongue, curious about my heritage and delighted by my request for black bread and a greasy patio pastry to go with my soup.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

Pretty little something crawling out of a bed it barely can climb / We could stick to something safe and low but no, the thing has set its mind / We’ve been waiting in our prime / So superior, do we mind? / You wear the leather in the streets / Another leather in the sheets

Don’t hide your kids, the walls won’t go / It’s not Berlin or Jericho / Don’t hide your kids, the walls won’t go / It’s not Berlin or Jericho

Baby, your shoulder’s better than knives / Your shoulder’s better than knives / Your shoulder’s better than knives / Baby your shoulder’s better than knives / Your shoulder’s better than knives…

Never have I seen it snow in LA. Yesterday, Mulholland Drive hit 39 degrees and hail balls were a-flying! The result was a “slushy snow day.” Yet another freakish reminder about this crazy planet.

For god sake, keep those toes, fingers, and ass warm and…

If you’re curious to hear what’s new in 2023, check this week’s Idelic set of mostly new releases.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

I want a Sunday kind of love / A love to last past Saturday night / And I’d like to know it’s more than love at first sight / And I want a Sunday kind of love / Oh, yeah, yeah

I want a, a, a love that’s on the square / Can’t seem to find somebody / Someone to care / And I’m on a lonely road that leads to nowhere / I need a Sunday kind of love

I do my Sunday dreaming, oh, yeah / And all my Sunday scheming / Every minute, every hour, every day

Oh, I’m hoping to discover / A certain kind of lover / Who will show me the way

Solomon Burke proclaimed it, “everybody needs somebody to love.” It likely came out of of the psyche of co-writer Burt Berns. The morning before Valentines Day, I had such thoughts, so I dipped by Sweet Lily, a local french bakery snuggled at the base of the canyon, and bought a raspberry tart for both Susan and Jonah.

Love songs are so great because they are often so simple but so deep. As I get older, I tend to think more about love songs the days after Valentines than the days before.

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

When she said, “Don’t waste your words, they’re just lies, ” I cried she was deaf / And she worked on my face until breaking my eyes, and said, “What else you got left?” / It was then that I got up to leave, but she said, “Don’t forget / Everybody must give something back for something they get”

I stood there and hummed, I tapped on her drum, I asked her how come / And she buttoned her boot, and straightened her suit, and she said, “Don’t get cute” / So I forced my hands in my pockets and felt with my thumbs / And gallantly handed her my very last piece of gum

As the first month 2023 spins us around and around into February, I’m asking myself, “I am just just fucking with myself”? At times I’m like Bob Dylan fucking playing games with his audience, save my audience is just in between my ears.

It’s likely best not to think too much and enjoy a few songs, and dig on another beautiful day here in our canyon. Mid 70s sunny and clear?

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Greetings from Laurel Canyon!

It’s automatic when I talk with old friends / The conversation turns to girls / We knew when their hair was soft and long / And the beach was the place to go

Suntanned bodies and waves of sunshine / The California girls and a beautiful coastline / Warmed up weather let’s get together / And do it again

With a girl the lonely sea looks good / Makes your nighttimes warm and out of sight

It’s Grammy week and I’m running like OJ in an airport. No stress, unless anyone cares? Loving that my canyon hit ’70 degrees and this new crop of music echoing off my garage walls.

And the winner is…

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