The Legendary Stardust Cowboy

Wide-Open Space Cadet
by Irwin Chusid (June 2000)

from Songs in the Key of Z: The Curious Universe of Outsider Music
(© 2000, A Cappella Books)
Author / producer Irwin Chusid's book profiles dozens of outsider musicians, both prominent and obscure, including such figures as The Shaggs, Syd Barrett, Tiny Tim, Joe Meek, Jandek, Captain Beefheart, The Cherry Sisters, Wesley Willis, Daniel Johnston, Wild Man Fischer, and Harry Partch. The text presents their strange life stories along with photographs, interviews, cartoons, and discographies.

------------------------------------------------------------------------


"We’re driving along New York's Taconic Parkway, me and the man who would later be my husband, and in this misplaced effort to impress him, I put on my tape of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy," recalled lawyer Diana Mercer. "I mean, we’ve listened to the Velvet Underground, Sex Pistols, Captain Beefheart -- whoever, on this four-hour jaunt. He's at the wheel of my car, and the conversation is at a lull. I’m looking to score some points, so -- what the heck -- in it goes.

"Before I know it, there’s flashing red lights behind us, and a 6-foot tall African-American policewoman has pulled him over for doing 110 in a 55 mph zone. The ticket cost $310.

"Somebody was trying to tell me something," she sighed, "but I wasn’t listening."

The Legendary Stardust Cowboy has been known to make people do strange things. Like sign him to a recording contract. Major labels aren’t receptive to weirdness; they’re in business to make money, not scare customers. Yet it was Mercury Records who propelled the Legendary Stardust Cowboy (a.k.a. "The Ledge") into the marketplace. In 1968, the label released his 45 rpm single, "Paralyzed" -- a blast of Texas no-fi wreckage, two-and-a-half minutes of Indian whoops, rebel yells and caveman cretinism -- that forever staked this unforgettable vocalist’s claim to fame. The acquisition of this pan-galactic buckaroo might have occurred during some Mercury exec’s weeklong bender, or during an A&R veep’s peyote peak.

Artistically -- and psychologically -- the Ledge comes across like someone who drove through the carwash with the top down. This bedlam-prone prairie dawg earned notoriety for his uninhibited howling and utter vocal abandon, oblivious to such quaint notions as euphony, rhythm, and restraint. His oral artistry consists of the astonishing number of ways he can emit musical sounds -- without actually singing. Besides the rebel yell, the Commanche war whoop, and hog hollerin’, he’s mastered elephant cries, birdcalls, frog croaks, and a menagerie of jungle squawks. The man wails, cackles, and belches; he grunts, growls, and taunts. When the Ledge goes mano a mano with a song, melody goes home with a bloody nose every time.

Despite his hyperactive exuberance -- bellowing like he's just been goosed -- the Ledge isn't threatening or scary. His "singing" voice is a friendly baritone, his vocal chords slightly constricted. Imagine a kiddie-show host whose jockey shorts are too tight. Yet the Ledge speaks in a warm tenor, up in fellow Texan Ross Perot's register. (The comparison stops there.)

There’s a lack of attitude in his personality and lyrics, which are imbued with self-deprecating humor. He’s lived life as a musical outsider, and been reminded often enough that his "talents" are not welcome in some quarters.

The Ledge’s records are sheer fun -- if you’re ready for a wild ride. "Paralyzed" was described by journalist R.J. Smith as "one long woof of defiance that sounds great at any turntable speed." Along with creek-rocker Hasil Adkins, the Ledge provided stylistic threads for cowpunk and psychobilly, inspiring such voodoo-tinged twangers as the Cramps, Meat Puppets, Butthole Surfers, and Raunch Hands. His more celebrated fans include Brooke Shields and Elvis Costello. Among the Texas roots posse, the Ledge is beloved by Butch Hancock, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and former school-chum Joe Ely, all of whom proudly call him a friend. Ely, in fact, considers him "West Texas’ greatest jazz musician."

The man has left his mark on at least one certified superstar. When David Bowie signed with Mercury in the US around 1970, the company gave him a stack of 45s as a welcome-to-our-label gift. Among those singles was "Paralyzed." "That was the one he liked best," affirmed Ledge chronicler Tony Philputt, who directed a 90-minute film biography of the Lone Star lunatic. Thus inspired, Bowie appropriated part of the singer’s name for his US breakout album, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. "Apparently, Bowie was obsessed with this character, and never knew anything about him," Philputt elaborated. "This was up until 1998. A reporter in Chicago who did a story on the Ledge got ahold of Bowie through his management. Bowie still knew nothing about him. He was amazed the Ledge was even alive. On Robert Plant's first solo tour after Led Zeppelin split, before his set, he played the Ledge’s Rock-It to Stardom album over the hall P.A."

The perpetrator of the feral "Paralyzed" is a relatively mild-mannered pussycat. Before he adopted the guise of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy, he was Norman Carl Odam, born September 5, 1947, in Lubbock, TX, to Carl Bunyan Odam and Utahonna Beauchamp. He was a shy youngster; he says it took his kindergarten teacher six months to get him to talk. One of his earliest recollections is that at age 7, he knew he "would like to go to Mars instead of the Moon." In school, he distracted himself by scribbling poetry and short stories. He also began developing highly idiosyncratic vocal techniques. "When I was 14," he wrote in a 1969 autobiographical sketch, "I started doing Rebel yells and Indian whoops because I am part Shawnee. I taught myself to do birdcalls and jungle sounds." With this odd array of mouth noises, he began vocalizing around school, hoping to achieve some measure of celebrity with the opposite sex. "I figured that by singing I was able to attract all the girls," he explained."But I attracted all the boys instead."

The popularity of picker Chet Atkins inspired young Odam to take guitar lessons. He never mastered the Countrypolitan king’s smooth fingering, but he did teach himself drums, kazoo, harmonica, buffalo horn and the rub-board. He acquired rudimentary bugle skills by riffing along with LPs by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. His early (unrecorded) repertoire consisted of country & western songs popularized by Johnny Cash, Ray Price and Buck Owens. Along the line to post-adolescence, like a kid tossed from a dimestore bronco once too often, Odam evolved into an authentic frontier wacko.

He also became, from time to time, an unfortunate victim of circumstance. The Ledge’s life -- like his music -- has always been slightly beyond his control.

Joe Ely was a classmate at J.T. Hutchinson Junior High in Lubbock. "The first time I saw Norman," recalled Ely, "he was playing on the steps. He’d get to school ‘bout 7:30 in the morning, before everybody else. He’d do a whole set before the bell rang. He just kinda wailed on at the top of his lungs. [Later,] Norman carried on this tradition and played on the steps of the high school." He invariably attracted crowds -- girls even -- and his extracurricular notoriety grew. But he still couldn’t get a date. Not all his classmates took his performances seriously. Some considered him a freak. They’d honk their horns, throw dirt clods and Sweet-Tarts. Others flung pennies and peppermints in the hole of his guitar.

At some point in his teens, Odam merged two great obsessions -- the Wild West and Outer Space -- and decided "The Legendary Stardust Cowboy" suited him better than "Norman." He spray-painted the name -- preceded by "NASA presents" -- in big gold and black letters across the side of his new Chevy Biscayne (much to the horror of his grandmother, who took a swat at the teen for ruining a perfectly good automobile).

He couldn’t get gigs at local clubs, so he obsessively sang in public: at frat houses, outside the Dairy Queen, in the parking lots of the Hi-D-Ho Drive-In and the Char-King. His makeshift stage was the roof of his Chevy, on which he’d painted a map of the moon. His atavistic caterwauling was accompanied by St. Vitus gyrations copied from another hero, Tom Jones. Usually management would run him off the property.

Odam would turn up unexpectedly at parties and give impromptu -- and often unwelcome -- performances. He occasionally found himself the target of spectator intolerance. When he plied his raucous repertoire in honky-tonks during the late 60s, he sported long hair and muttonchop sideburns. "Old time country music fans thought I was making fun of them and country music," he recalled. "Owners and managers of clubs had to pull away people trying to get close enough to beat me up." One night at the Hi-D-Ho, an onlooker heaped ridicule on the Ledge’s performance, but he ignored her and kept singing. "He either laid his guitar town, or she came up and grabbed it," said Ely. "All I remember is turning around and seeing the front of his guitar cave in, with her foot going through it. It was a sad day. That guitar was his main squeeze."

After high school, Odam resolved to travel in search of fame. Las Vegas. New York. Hollywood. Other planets.

Instead he took a bus to San Diego. Unable to land a paid gig, he moved to L.A. and tried to get on the Steve Allen Show and Art Linkletter’s House Party, but no one was booking unrecorded amateurs who specialized in coyote howls. Disillusioned, he returned to Lubbock, worked in a warehouse, and played local clubs to largely skeptical or indifferent audiences.

In 1968, he tried to contact the best known musical Outsider. "I wrote Tiny Tim a letter," he recalled, "with a picture of myself and musical instruments. I wanted to be on the Johnny Carson show like [him]." Tiny never replied. (Considering the magnitude of his then-popularity, it’s unlikely he ever saw the letter.)

With $160 in his pocket, the Ledge aimed his Biscayne at New York. His goal: the Tonight Show. He had no manager and no demo tape. He also had zero business smarts.

He never made it to Manhattan -- but along the way, the "legendary" part of his name became a reality.

He pit-stopped in Forth Worth, 300 miles east of his hometown. Two vacuum cleaner salesmen, headed out to a local club, spied the Ledge's graffiti-blessed Chevy in a parking lot. They chatted with the driver, and noticed he had what they thought was a guitar. The vac dealers knew the club owner, so they invited Odam along to perform. After witnessing the musical demolition derby that is a typical Ledge showcase, they whisked him to a nearby recording studio, where he auditioned an original song for a young engineer named T-Bone Burnett.

A sense of urgency prevailed -- who knew if this transient would be around next day -- so they spooled up a reel of tape and hit "record." T-Bone leapt to the drumkit, the Ledge grabbed a mic, and "Paralyzed" was born. The Ledge’s aboriginal shrieks and freewheeling bugle brays were underscored by Burnett’s furious, not quite-metronomic drumming.

It was an early morning session; the engineers had been up all night messing around, and the whole fiasco seemed half-hallucinatory. "The band was just me on drums, and he had a dobro with a broken neck, so he could only play on the first fret," Burnett recalled. "We just set up two microphones. [The staff was] in a state of sleep deprivation that probably caused us to be more daring than we might’ve been otherwise. Norman gave me some instructions -- ‘Play drums in the same tempo I’m singing in’ -- and I said, ‘I could do that.’ [laughs] Maybe probably. Then he said he was going to take a bugle solo, and he wanted me to take a drum solo, and I found that all agreeable. It was explosive, to say the least."

Upstairs in the same building was KXOL, the only Top 40 AM station in town. Burnett ran upstairs and played the tape for the wake-up jock, expecting a rebuff. Instead the host ranted,"THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE NEW MUSIC!" The song was aired several times, the switchboard overheated, and T-Bone knew they had a hit on their hands.

"This is something, by the way, to highly recommend Fort Worth," chuckled Burnett, "that the people could love this and embrace it so instantly."

The studio stamped 500 copies on the Psycho-Suavé label. After some initial regional commotion, the single was sold to Mercury Records for national distribution. The deal was brokered by sleazy Fort Worth music impresario Major Bill Smith, who brazenly claimed production credit.

"Paralyzed" embodied some of the most mutant strains ever pressed on major-league vinyl (at least til Harry Chapin got signed). It cracked the Billboard Top 200 -- no mean feat for a record that even by the drug-addled standards of 1968 was irredeemably in orbit. It brought the sagebrush spaceman instant fame, if not fortune.

Of course, not everyone "got it." "Paralyzed" frequently hovers near the top of smart-alec rankings of the "all-time worst recordings." British TV comic Kenny Everett compiled an album entitled, aptly enough, The World’s Worst Record Show; "Paralyzed" shares the LP’s furrows with such deeper dumpster pickings as "Why Am I Living?" by Jess Conrad and Dickie Lee’s "Laurie." Clayton Stromberger, in a ‘zine called No Depression, described how "out" the single was: "It was out the window that noted music critic Ed Ward’s first copy of ‘Paralyzed’ went sailing … after his first listen ... in 1968. He ripped it off the turntable, pronounced it the worst song he’d ever heard, and flung it as far as it would go. Which of course only added luster to the legend of the Ledge (and left Ward kicking himself years later)."
 



See Part 2 of Legendary Stardust Cowboy

 

Pt 2.


Wide-Open Space Cadet
by Irwin Chusid

In November 1968, ironically, the Ledge managed to follow in the footsteps of Tiny Tim by appearing on Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In. SPIN proclaimed the Ledge’s performance of his "hit" single among the "25 Greatest Musical Moments in TV History." It could have been -- and in certain ways was -- a celebratory experience. But some of Odam’s friends watching back in Texas were disgusted at what they considered the coast-to-coast humiliation of their guileless chum.

"Paralyzed" was accompanied by Dan Rowan’s snide remarks and Dick Martin’s slapstick mimicry. Norman just wanted to play his song, and seemed visibly irked at the revelry taking place at his expense. Amid this hilarity, Martin asked his guest to perform another song. Odam kicked into the single’s B-side, "Who’s Knocking On My Door" -- just as the zany Laugh-In cast emerged from the wings and began clowning on-camera, imitating the Ledge’s spastic dance moves and making a mockery of his performance (well, it was a comedy show).

"I was confused," the Ledge told me in a phone interview. "I finally got mad and ran off the set. That wasn't part of the act."

Nonetheless, Lubbock’s most eccentric export had launched a chart-climbing record and caused pandemonium on the nation’s top-rated TV show. Offers quickly followed for appearances on American Bandstand, The Joey Bishop Show, and Ed Sullivan. The "legendary" part of his name seemed assured; the "star" part was imminent.

Unfortunately, within a short while, his dreams were "dust."

Just as the Ledge was set to collect dividends on years of dues paying, a musicians’ strike imposed a network ban on live music. Because he'd played guitar on national TV, the Ledge was categorized "union." The variety show offers were postponed.

By the time the strike was over, so was "Paralyzed." It was off the charts. Two followup singles flopped. Doppler-like, the Ledge zoomed off the nation's cultural radar as quickly as he’d arrived.

In the aftermath of fleeting fame, the Ledge parted ways with an unscrupulous manager. Mercury Records dropped him. Shortly thereafter, he was arrested and jailed on a trumped-up vagrancy charge. He then learned that Major Bill had purloined a tape of 50 new songs Odam had recorded at T-Bone’s studio. Determined to reclaim his work, the Ledge broke into the Major’s office and retrieved the goods. "I went down to a studio and had the master tape run off onto a 7" reel," he recalled. "At the house, I played the songs through, wrote them down on paper, then unraveled the tape down the middle of Henderson Street in Fort Worth so Major Bill -- and nobody else -- could get their hands on my music." He later burned the song sheets. "He can’t get ‘em now," Odam smiled to a friend, "but I still remember ‘em."

Next stop was Las Vegas, where he met DJ-entrepreneur James Yanaway, a sincere admirer. "Nobody made the Ledge. He is what he is," noted Yanaway. "There were a few people who were appreciative of what he was doing, and many more who were exploitative. I felt, this guy needs a fair shake." Yanaway had a new label, Amazing Records, for which he recorded the Ledge’s first full-length album, Rock-It to Stardom (1984). Unlike the skeletal instrumentation on his early singles, this recording (and all his later waxings) employed a band -- a cookin’ crew. Technique remained parked in the lobby; spontaneity was the prime directive. "He would just start a song," said session drummer Mike Buck, "He wouldn’t tell us what key or anything. He’d just start singing, and we’d start playing. Some of it turned out all right, considering the chaotic conditions it was recorded under." The album includes a new version of "Paralyzed," recorded in 1981 with the LeRoi Brothers. As re-makes go, it’s nearly as vigorous as the original.

Besides an aversion to melody, genteel stage manners don’t rank high on the Ledge’s list of concerns. He played New York’s Folk City around 1985. Diesel Only Records honcho Jeremy Tepper recalled, "The Ledge bounded out of the basement dressing room with a stack of paper plates that he began flinging at the audience frisbee-style. Each of these flying saucers was personalized with colorful Crayola drawings of cacti and desert sunsets." It was just one of several "talents" on display that evening. "Over the course of the show," said dB’s drummer/singer Will Rigby, "the Ledge stripped down to his white jockey briefs and cowboy boots, an entertainment gambit not necessarily suited to the music -- or his physique. After getting down to scantily-cladness, he was pumping his crotch inches from the face of my friend Naomi, seated at the front table. She's got a good sense of humor and didn't run screaming, but she told me later she was mortified. Or perhaps terrified? He was outside, all right."

Odam left Amazing Records in disillusionment in 1985. The biggest disappointment, Yanaway admitted, was that "I had not gotten him on the Tonight Show." The Ledge didn’t just want to appear -- he longed to be guest host. Yanaway realized there wasn’t much he could do for his client. They parted ways.

A crew of San Francisco-based musicians undertook the honor of backing the Ledge in his Bay area debut in early 1986. Later that year they joined him in the studio to record the albumRetro Rocket Back to Earth for Spider Records. The repertoire is largely first-take, sloppy but spirited, with no overdubs. Our lost-in-space cowpoke betrays his Luddite leanings, proclaiming in one song title, "I Hate CDs," though it’s perhaps less the technology than certain personalities associated with it. "I hate those CDs that Bruce Springsteen put out," the Ledge howls, "He’s the number one reason why I hate CDs." The same entourage recorded The Legendary Stardust Cowboy Rides Again, but they couldn’t find an American company that would touch it. (The album was released on France’s New Rose in 1990.)

Aside from a few subsequent singles for Norton Records, not much has been heard from the Ledge in recent years. His fans, however, are committed to preserving his legacy. Besides putting pressure on her car’s accelerator pedal, the Ledge impelled Diana Mercer (now divorced from her speed-prone husband) to undertake creation of a website dedicated to her favorite musical wrecking ball.

There’s also a documentary in the can: Cotton Pickin’ Smash! The Story of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Directed by Philputt, it contains photos from the early years, anecdotes from the Ledge’s illustrious circle of friends, the Laugh-In debacle, live club footage, and copious chat from the notorious fun-slinger himself. "When we started, we weren’t sure if anybody would talk to us," Philputt admitted. "I had to reassure people I wasn’t doing this as a joke or to ridicule him. But almost to a ‘T’ everyone I contacted was ecstatic that we were doing this. Except his family. They were no help at all. They asked us not to do it."

The project took eight years to complete. At a cost of $22,000, it drove Philputt into bankruptcy (in 1992 he declared debts of $23,300, and assets of $425) -- after which he remarked: "I’m glad it’s done." It may be dead as well. The owners of Laugh-In quoted an astronomical fee for use of the TV footage. "They wanted seven or eight thousand dollars per thirty seconds," explained Philputt, who has pretty much conceded defeat.

Nowadays, the Ledge lives in San Jose and works in Santa Clara for defense contractor Lockheed-Martin as a security guard. "Got a top secret clearance," he revealed. "They designed the Pathfinder spacecraft that landed on Mars." Odam's a meteorology freak -- his TV is constantly tuned to the Weather Channel. Despite his hatred of CDs, he bought a deck, primarily to listen to his favorite singers: Barbra Streisand, Dinah Washington, and Barry Manilow. "And don't forget Sinatra," the Ledge advised. "He's #1."

The cowboy with the chili-seared synapses doesn’t have much money. "It sure would be nice if David Bowie would pay me something for using part of my name in ‘Ziggie [sic] Stardust’," he wrote to webmistress Diana.

He rarely performs in public anymore. And despite his loyal following, the Ledge will always be a taste some folks never acquire. Guitarist Frank Novicki recalled that after one gig, the club owner came to pay the band. "He gave me the money and a good long hard look. Very judgmental," Novicki explained. "He says, ‘Are you related to [the Ledge]?’ I said, ‘No, I just play guitar.’ Then he said, ‘That is the worst **** I’ve ever heard in my life. Here’s your money.’ I didn’t feel like debating the point. There’s a lot worse ****."

Novicki trusts his ears and his heart. "Norman can’t carry a tune, and he doesn’t really sing in time," he attested, "but you don’t have to know any of that stuff to be good at music. Boy, is he proof of that."

Artist and longtime admirer Kevin Teare admits it’s not easy evangelizing for the Ledge. "Over the years, the people I’ve played ‘Paralyzed’ for -- generally the more they knew about music, the better they liked the record," he discovered. "When you play it, some people think you’re trying to goof on them. If you don’t know a lot about music, you might think it’s just a joke. But in terms of the spontaneity of the recording -- it’s completely lo-fi, the drums are recorded in a way that the signal’s breaking up. He crosses a lot of lines in terms of what would be thought of as ‘quality.’ A painter named Hans Hoffman once said, ‘Quality is synonymous with the spirit in which something is made.’ And I like the spirit in which this record was made."

The Ledge puts it all in perspective: "Music critics and record reviewers the world over have written about me: that I can’t sing, that I can’t play the guitar, that I don’t know how to carry a tune. Well, neither can Kenny Rogers nor Mick Jagger. All of us are in the same boat."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Post-script from Jim Yanaway:

There are a couple of minor corrections I would point out concerning the recordings I did with Ledge
for the Rock-It To Stardom LP. It says in the article I made contact with Ledge after he had relocated to Las Vegas. Actually, I met him in Fort Worth and Dallas, Texas in 1976, and our recordings were done in
Grand Prairie, Texas. Also, it says The LeRoi Brothers backed him on an updated version of "Paralyzed." That is largely correct, but in reality the studio personnel backing Ledge was not an actual group at that time,
and they worked so well together in the studio that they then did form a group and became known as The LeRoi Brothers.

 

"Being an editor for just one day is a lovely excuse to clean out the closet. I found all my old Legendary Stardust singles in there, all on Mercury, and that got me into a quiet reverie or two. Along with Wild Man Fischer and solo Syd Barrett, the Ledge was instrumental in creating, unwittingly, the now current Outsider Music genre. Mr. Stardust takes the title of Worlds Most Influential Cult Artist in my small world for maybe obvious reasons.
David Bowie-2002

 

FROM IRWIN CHUSID'S SONGS IN THE KEY OF Z WEBSITE



David Bowie has long asserted that the name of his 1970s alter-ego "Ziggy Stardust" was inspired by the Legendary Stardust Cowboy (Norman Odam, a.k.a. "The Ledge," who has a featured chapter in Songs in the Key of Z). Though Bowie was reportedly a fan, the two had never met. That all changed in August 2002, as explained by Odam's friend Tony Philputt, who directed an as-yet unreleased documentary about The Ledge...



Sunday, August 18, 2002


- - I Just got back from San Francisco where I escorted The Ledge to meet David Bowie.

As I've been having a ****ty time the last few months [since moving to Los Angeles], I needed some sort of good news to keep me going. It seems as if this city is finally starting to wear me down.

I might be happier if I were employed and not living in a crack whore-infested barrio where folks don't seem to have a problem ****ting themselves in public. Perhaps if I could walk ten feet without someone who smells like a urinal bugging me for money, I would cheer up.

But then again perhaps not.

I haven't been mugged yet, but I eagerly anticipate someone trying. I seem to have amassed so much "City Rage" that I'm willing to take a few knocks just to get the chance to wail on someone.

In a nutshell, and with few exceptions, I pretty much hate everyone I see when I step out my door these days.

I am now officially a resident of L.A.!!!

It was with this attitude that I drove to SF, where I got to see my old pal Duncan and meet his very engaging and supremely amicable paramour Jen. We ate at an Afghan restaurant, and had some great grub, which somewhat lessened my current world weariness.

The next day we drove to Santa Clara to meet up with Joey Meyers (the Ledge's drummer), where we exchanged bad news. I was not able to contact my friend Mark at Bowienet.com to set up a meeting, as he was in Venice on vacation. Joey's bad news was that our "Plan B' had also crapped out.

Three in the afternoon -- and we had NO PLAN WHATSOEVER!!!

We decided to try to crash the proceedings. We went to pick up Norman and head out to the amphitheater -- which fortunately offered FREE parking, as we had visions of having to pay to fail.

We went to the will call window at the box office and asked the woman if she would contact whoever was in charge of Bowie's road affairs and tell him "The Ledge is here."

We figured this message would allow our situation to work itself out, but the lady at the window had this look like she thought we were nuts. However, we were right -- within five minutes, four tickets and four backstage passes came shooting out the window slot. It was great fun walking around with Norman, decked in hat, boots, garish jacket and all, amongst the kids. Got a lot of strange looks.

The four of us went back to the reception area, found a table and proceeded to watch the show on the closed circuit TV, as it was a bit loud up front and none of us had remembered to bring earplugs. It was funny to watch Moby walk around the table slowly, sneaking looks at the Ledge, trying to figure out who he was.

About halfway thru the show, Bowie's road manager came up to the table, shook our hands and told us how excited David was that we were there. He instructed us to stay where we were and he would come get us after the show.

When he returned, we followed him to the front of a line of folks who were waiting for the ol' "Meet 'n' Greet" with David. You could hear some grumbling about why we got placed ahead of them in line since they had been there longer. But mostly I think they were just trying to figure out who the hell we were.

They didn't wait long. Bowie came around the corner -- and his face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree.

"LEDGE!!!!!" came out of his mouth as he rushed up to Norm and gave him a big squeeze. The look on both their faces was priceless. Then he turned to me and said (I swear): "Hey, you're the bloke who made the movie!"

He leaned in and said (again I swear), "Make sure I have your phone number and email address 'cause I think I can help you."

Dumbfounded that he even knew who I was, we gave him the various gifts we'd brought (he's wearing one of them in the photo) and stood around and gabbed for a bit, much to the amazement and befuddlement of the other folks waiting in line. As we left, he pulled me aside again and reiterated how much he enjoyed the film, how he thought my idea for redoing it with a different ending was a great idea, and made sure he had my phone number!

On our way out, a roadie chased us down said he had been a fan for years and asked Norm to sign his Mojo magazine (with the article on The Ledge written by Bowie).

It was an amazing night that lifted my sagging spirits to the level of minor annoyance as opposed to outright loathing.

As a sort of "gravy on top" thing, I've been told that the package of Ledge stuff that I sent to Robert Plant (who was rumored to be a huge fan) elicited swoons of delight, many questions, and a request of a meeting when he comes to town.

How weird. Who woulda thunk?

I will, of course, fill you all in later if anything else comes about. Tomorrow I'm back to pounding the pavement.


All the best,
Tony






   

 

Pic 2

 

THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY
Tokyo (Cracked Piston)
Reviewed by Alan Wright
------------------------------------------------------------------------
To say the Ledge (real name: Norman Carl Odam) is an acquired taste is an understatement. I acquired this taste way back when I first heard his "Paralyzed" on the classic Rockabilly Psychosis & The Garage Disease compilation in the '80s. That song, a demented piece of rockabilly from 1968, features perhaps the only recorded bugle solo in the genre, and was recorded by a young T-Bone Burnette when the Ledge stopped into his tiny studio on his way to try and get on "The Tonight Show." That didn't happen, but he did get on "Laugh-In." Oddly enough, the Ledge was signed to Mercury Records who rereleased his "Paralyzed"/"Who's Been Knocking On My Door" single, as well as two follow-ups singles, all of which flopped and got him dropped like a hot potato.

A bizarre fascination with "Paralyzed" caused me to eventually locate and purchase his 1984 Rocket To Stardom LP where he was backed up by some local Texas musicians that later became the Leroi Brothers, as well as later LPs like Retro Rocket Back To Earth (1989) and Rides Again (1991). Last year, Pravda released the Live In Chicago CD where he is backed up, as on this disc, by the Altamont Boys. This was recorded and produced as well by ABs member and Dead Kennedy's bassist Klaus Fluoride. And you know what - I have some advice for Klaus: that pseudo-Dead Kennedy's thing you have going without Jello is lame. You should stick to stuff like this.

That said, this is a pretty good CD. It's certainly got that ramshackle quality that seems to permeate all of the Ledge's work. Songs like "Play My Guitar" and "Down In The Wrecking Yard" are, well, completely unhinged. You may be aware that on his most recent album, David Bowie, who is a longtime Ledge admirer - his "Ziggy Stardust" character was in part influenced by the Ledge - recorded a version of "I Took A Ride On A Gemini Spaceship." The Ledge returns the favor by covering "Space Oddity," well if "covering" could be considered the right word. The song is barely recognizable as the melodic, spacey, semi-acoustic piece that launched Bowie's worldwide career. In the Ledge's hands, it becomes a twisted, chaotic work of sheer genius. Or insanity. You be the judge!

 

He has an orchid named after him..

http://crintonicgardens.com/z-legendary_stardust_cowboy.htm

 

Wed, June 12, 2002

FLESH-AND-BLOOD ZIGGY STARDUST INSPIRATION GETS GIG ON BOWIE BILL
by Brad Kava
San Jose Mercury News

For 13 years one of rock music's biggest secrets has been tucked away, working as a night watchman in Santa Clara.

But this week, the Legendary Stardust Cowboy is getting his shot at fame.

Norman Carl Odam, 54, is about to meet David Bowie, the man who borrowed his name for a 1972 album, ``The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.''

Bowie is flying the Cowboy and his San Jose band to London to appear at an arts festival called Meltdown. Bowie, 55, is this year's curator for the annual event, and his theme is ``outsider'' music.

Bowie even covers one of the Cowboy's songs on the album he released this week, ``Heathen.'' The song, ``I Took A Trip on a Gemini Spaceship,'' was written in 1968 and harkens back to Bowie's Ziggy Stardust and ``Ground Control to Major Tom'' days.

``I took a trip on a Gemini spacecraft and I thought about you,'' the song goes. ``I passed through the shadow of Jupiter and I thought about you.''

A friend of the Cowboy's heard the song on a Los Angeles radio station a few weeks ago and called him right away.

``I was flabbergasted when I heard he did the song,'' says the Cowboy, in an interview at the corner of Lava and Jackson streets in North San Jose, while he waited to rehearse his band.

``Then I thought, `It's about time. It's decades overdue.' ''

For years there were those who doubted the connection between the man who wrote ``Space Oddity'' and the one who lived it. But Bowie talked about the mysterious Cowboy, who many thought was dead, in the new issue of Interview magazine.

``I did it as an homage to him,'' he says of covering the song. ``Because, yes, f------ Ziggy Stardust did borrow his name!''

``The Ledge,'' as his friends call him, is one of those rare lovable characters in the music world, living in the dead pool of commercial obscurity while celebrated by those who have forded the mainstream.

He has been described as someone who looks like ``he went through the carwash with the top down,'' in a chapter in the book ``Songs in the Key of Z'' by Irwin Chusid. He's as hyper as a kindergartner on Twinkies, has a ``Rain Man''-like recall for small details and a down-home Texas brogue that seems to invite you to a good meatloaf dinner.

His biggest claim to fame has been a 1968 single, ``Paralyzed,'' a collection of war whoops and rebel yells over low-fi Texas psychobilly music. That got him an appearance on the television show ``Rowan and Martin's Laugh In,'' the biggest thing he did before this Bowie show.

Ledge grew up in Lubbock, Texas, with musician Joe Ely, and the two have remained friends. Ely calls the youngster who overcame his shyness by blasting out songs on the school steps, ``West Texas' greatest jazz musician.''

Not bad for a teenager who set his career path after he saw Tiny Tim on ``The Tonight Show'' and decided that was what he wanted to do.

He started driving his Biscayne eastward, but he only got 300 miles, to Fort Worth, where he hooked up with some vacuum cleaner salesmen and started performing rowdy songs in bars.

With his wild mix of space- and cowboy-themed songs, he got dragged into a recording studio after a night of partying. This was where T Bone Burnett, then 21, was learning his craft. Burnett is the producer of last year's Grammy-winning album, ``O Brother, Where Art Thou?''

Burnett played drums and mixed ``Paralyzed,'' which became a mutant novelty hit after KXOL, a radio station upstairs from the studio, started playing it.

That led to a recording contract with Mercury records, which lasted for only three songs, one of which, the one about the Gemini trip, landed in Bowie's hands when he too signed with the label.

While Bowie's career rocketed, Ledge's fell to Earth. A musicians' strike kept him off the circuit while the single was hot and left him unknown when it dropped. Then, he was arrested for vagrancy. The Fort Worth businessman who brokered his deal with Mercury tried to make off with 50 of his songs that were left in the studio, and Ledge broke into his office and destroyed the tape.

While some voted ``Paralyzed'' the worst song ever recorded, it was a cult hit for punks and rebels. Elvis Costello was a fan, as were the Cramps, the Meat Puppets and the Butthole Surfers.

And over the years, they brought him back to record and play shows. At one in Los Angeles, he met San Jose drummer Joey Myers, who persuaded Ledge to move here and tour the Northern California cowpunk and rockabilly circuit, with sporadic success.

Ledge worked what musicians call ``a day job'' -- at nights, doing solo guard work. He won't reveal the institutions he guards, probably with good reason.

He lives with eight roommates in San Jose's Evergreen Valley, ``two stop signs and nine traffic lights from the freeway.''

In his last live performance, two years ago in Austin, he had a full house looking like it was at the dentist's -- mouths were open wide through his whole 40-minute set.

He was sandwiched between performances by Jeff Beck and former Led Zeppelin bassist John Paul Jones, so there was an overflow crowd.

He ``sang,'' hooted, hollered, swung a bugle in the air, almost beaning his guitar player, and, to make sure the crowd never forgot him, he dropped his chaps and mooned it.

It was sort of like Jimi Hendrix, without the music. An experience.

Many wondered if he was drunk or on drugs. He wasn't. He's just that way.

``That was a good show. They really liked it,'' he recalls. ``There was a line around the block.''

For his show Saturday, he will be backed by a band that includes bassist Klaus Flouride, a member of the Dead Kennedys; guitarist Jay Rosen; and drummer Myers, who plays in the rockabilly band Hayride to Hell and is a clerk at San Jose's Streetlight Records. The show will be broadcast on the BBC.

Other outsiders on the bill include Daniel Johnston, the Texas songwriter who was in and out of institutions his whole life and was revered by grunge rockers Pearl Jam; New York elder punks Television; and the eccentric, lovable Dandy Warhols.

While some pose, the Ledge is really outsider, says Bowie.

Adds Myers: ``I think what Bowie saw in the Ledge is that wild, free American spirit, howling in the wind, all by himself.''
 

 

CD Reviews
BY SEATTLE WEEKLY STAFF


THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY
Tokyo
(Cracked Piston)
Step aside Hasil, here comes the Ledge.
With David Bowie's Mojo-penned appreciation of Norman Carl Odam, a.k.a. the Legendary Stardust Cowboy, still fresh in the public mind (he also covered the songwriter's "I Took a Trip on a Gemini Spaceship" on Heathen), now's the time to rediscover the artist that liner-notes man Jud Cost describes as "the man who made Hasil Adkins cross over to the other side of the street" with his 1968 outsider-rock classic "Paralyzed."

Backed up by the Altamont Boys (featuring Klaus Flouride, formerly of the Dead Kennedys) the Ledge taps equally into the country-trashabilly mainline and the Demerol I.V. drip. Manifestos "Play My Guitar" and "All Night Cowboy" comprise fecund grooves and hot licks lapping at the singer's cracked high lonesome gimp wail. In contrast, the minimalist surf-rock number "Gears in the Sun" is so halting it defies all attempts to dance to it, while the chicken-scratch funk of "Slide Rule" extols the virtues of, ah, slide rules (Daniel Johnston ain't got nothin' on this guy). And what is apparently a first-take rendition of "Space Oddity"--complete with Odam rolling his r's ("grrrround contrrrrol to Majorrrr Tom") like a soused Scotty--repays Bowie's acknowledgment with far greater naive verve than the Thin White Duke could've ever envisioned.

In short, while nothing could ever approach the "Paralyzed" level of bugle-blatting, Tourette's-spouting, atonal/ arrhythmic aural dementia, there's enough on this lucky-13 slab to keep the neighbors up all night wondering if you're a meth tweaker obsessively rearranging the furniture. As the saying goes, get behind the Ledge--before the Ledge gets past you. FRED MILLS

 

 

Excerpts from an AMAZING letter from a former Nasa scientist




To: The Ledge

Hi Ledge, Tony, Miss Diana, etc.

Just received my Legendary Stardust Cowboy Fan pack and I have to say it was great to hear some of my favorite tunes again! I thought I would share some little-known information about the Ledge and the US Space Program, since he writes and sings about space a lot.

This goes back to his early days, and my previous career in Mission Control in Houston. We always woke the astronauts with a song played over the air-to-ground in the mornings. It has been a tradition since the beginning of the manned space programs. Since most of the space missions were 7 to 10 days long, it was never a problem coming up with songs to play. However, in 1972 or so, the Skylab program was flying, and we were working insane hours on console for about a year and on shift work. It was really wearing everyone out, and people were getting a little crazy. So to let off a little steam, things got a little looser in Mission Control.



Late one night, a future shuttle astronaut and CapCom (Bob) was trying to come up with a song to play in the morning. I told him I had a song that was guaranteed to wake the dead. Since he & I had a good relationship, I got my copy of Paralyzed and we sent it downstairs to the communications center in the bowels of the building. They cued it up on one of the comm loops,and the next thing I see is Bob looking like a deer frozen in car headlights, then he starts screaming Yes! Yes!, then turning purple because he is laughing so hard he can't breathe. Of course, he and I are the only people in Mission Control that are able to hear Ledge on our headsets, and everyone in the normally silent room is wondering what the hell is going on!

Then Bob has the comm center cue it up again for the Flight Director. Don is totally stopped in his tracks for several minutes. By then, everyone in the main room and the support engineers in the back rooms figure something strange is going on, because the both the Flight Director loop and the CapCom loop have been totally silent for far too long. Don then asks the comm center to cue it up again and play it over the building PA system, and announces to our whole team that they are going to get to hear the music selection for the morning wake-up.

As you can well expect, everyone was stunned, amazed, hysterical, etc. I am sure it was played several times that night before we got to wake up the crew, and it was a good stimulus to keep us all awake during the midnight shift.

We played it that morning for the crew. One of my responsibilities was the attitude control system of Skylab (which kept the vehicle pointed in the desired directions and stable), and whenever the crew moved around, it would show up in our data. Normally we would see small fluctuations in the data, which indicated that the crew was moving. Well, when Paralyzed hit the airwaves, the Skylab vehicle really jumped! The crew made a few comments that day about our choice of wakeup music, and unfortunately, they had a bad day, having some difficulties with their assigned task plans.

Because of the reduction in crew performance that day, NASA Headquarters decided that Paralyzed would never again be allowed to be played as wakeup music for a NASA mission. THis is the only song that I know of that was ever banned by NASA HQ. However, our team adopted the song as our theme song, and whenever we took over in Mission Control, the ceiling speakers would crackle, a few strums of a guitar would be heard, and then the Ledge would let forth with what I consider to be his trademark song. We also played it at our team parties, but the wives & girlfriends just did not understand.

Several years later, most of the same team was working onthe Apollo-Soyuz joint US-Soviet mission, and we had some Russian engineers and managers in Mission Control with us. Don was again the Flight Director, and he invited the Russians into Mission Control to hear our theme song. They all took a very serious stance, expecting to hear some sort of national anthem type song, and then the opening guitar strums emanated from the ceiling. At first they didn't know what to do, then they realized that this was not a solemn moment, and we all had agood laugh!

So, that is the story of how the Ledge was a unique part of America's space program.

Now, maybe you can do me a favor. What the hell are all the lyrics to Paralyzed and Who's Knockin' At My Door??? We have been trying to decipher these songs for years, and we had to improvise when we sang one of them at one of the old gang's wedding reception, and again at Donovan's Copper Bar (long since gone) in old Vail Village! Quite embarrassing! All I can make out is black Cadillac and a few other words here and there. Can the Ledge return the favor for making him a legend in Mission Control? Many thanks!

Sincerely,
Terry Watson

PS I seem to remember at the end of Paralyzed on the 45 that someone remarked Great! on the end of the track. This has been omitted from the CD. Is this an oversight, or was it done intentionally? It was such an appropriate ending comment!

 

Mark From bowie.net gives his impression of the Ledge's performance at Bowies Meltdown Festival.




While I'm waiting for some shots to come through from last night's A&R Live By Request show, I'll tell you a little of what I did to console myself, seeing as I couldn't be with those of you that did attend the recording. As I mentioned last week, I was expecting a night of craziness with a double bill of The Legendary Stardust Cowboy and Daniel Johnston for the second night of Meltdown. I wasn't disappointed.

A quarter of an hour after the official start time, there was no sign of The Ledge, and to be honest I was going to be surprised if he made it at all. In fact it was hard to imagine that he would even get to London! Anyway, the band came on, The Altamont Boys, and launched straight into a twanging rockabilly 'Ghost Riders In The Sky'...but still no sign of 'The Ledge'.

And then about two thirds of the way through 'Ghost Riders', there he was! He bounced onstage with a crazed smile and started dancing a maniacal whirling fling while spinning his blue and white chaps around his head. Then with no warning at all he was straight into 'Paralyzed', a song that surely must be the most insane recording ever committed to vinyl.

The overall sound is much tighter than that original version, this band is hot. But The Ledge himself doesn't disappoint, with a level of professionalism that has stayed with him since that first release back in '69. He even attempts that original bugle solo, but stops after one burst claiming "Wrong note", and continues as if anyone could have possibly known it was.

The Legendary Stardust Cowboy does not keep still if he is not singing. He'll either be dancing in the most bizarre manner you ever saw, (Ian Curtis of Joy Division and Freddie Garrity of Freddie and the Dreamers have nothing on this guy) or he'll be swinging something round his head, be it his ever-present pink towel, an item of clothing, the microphone, or his bugle! This keeps the band on their toes, and nervous throughout the performance. And with good reason, the bassist tells me later that he has lost his glasses before now due to a clunk aside the head, while The Ledge himself admitted pulling over a cymbal with his towel without even noticing.

The audience are highly appreciative and seem to know most of the set, which includes such "classics" as: 'I Walk A Hot Wind', 'Who's Knocking At My Door', 'Radar' and, of course, 'I Took A Trip On A Gemini Spaceship', along with new stuff such as 'Tokyo' which, by all accounts, will be on the next Ledge long player on Cracked Piston Records.

Due to his extra clothing and energetic stage performance, The Ledge tends to overheat onstage. He overcomes this problem in a way that seems natural enough I guess...he gradually strips off! As you can see from my series of pictures from last night's show, he goes pretty well all the way, except for his Y-fronts...such a tease. Believe me, there is no sight* quite like The Legendary Stardust Cowboy with his jeans around his ankles shuffling round the stage, hollering 'Paralyzed'! This second version of 'Paralyzed' was the last show of the set. And before we knew it he had shuffled right off stage back to his dressing

His dressing room is where I meet The Ledge and his band for a brief chat, I ask him how he feels about David Bowie covering 'I Took A Trip On A Gemini Spaceship':

"That's like a Super Collider...In fact, that's like a super, Super Collider."

Out of the blue somebody returns his pink towel from out front: "Oh my towel...I saw an owl on that towel once, it was a spotted owl." - "Really?" I naïvely reply - "Nope, I just made it up, but at least it rhymes!"


The Ledge is one of those people whose mind appears to be elsewhere at all times, but as the conversation lurches from subject to subject it is apparent that he is actually taking in what I'm saying, and responds with answers that threaten to fill up the remaining couple of hours of my DAT tape. But it's all very entertaining stuff, and if I ever get round to transcribing it, I'll post the whole thing here sometime.

I spend the rest of the night chatting with The Ledge, the band, and Tony who has been working on a documentary of The Ledge's life for the past two years. Tonight's show is about the last thing they need apart from a meeting with David which they are very hopeful will happen in August. I can't wait to see the completed film...and if you're reading this David, don't worry, I've been promised a video tape of tonight's show.


On a final note, I'd like to say thanks again to Danny and The Ledge for the bugle! Yep, an actual bugle that belonged to The Legendary Stardust Cowboy himself...now where's my copy of 'Paralyzed', I'm going to learn that solo.

 

Royal Festival Hall 2002
Pic 2

 

Pic 3

 

Pic 4

 

Pic 5
backstage

 

Near Complete Discography





THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY : SINGLES
PSYCHO-SUAVE 1033 Paralyzed / Who's Knocking On My Door 1968 US
MERCURY 72862 Paralyzed / Who's Knocking On My Door 1968 US
MERCRY 72891 Down In The Wrecking Yard / I Took a Trip (On A Gemini Spaceship) 1969 US
MERCURY 72912 Everything's Getting Bigger But Our Love / Kiss And Run 1969 US
NEW ROSE ROSE 260CD (CD-single, p/s) Paralyzed / I Ride A Tractor 199? FRA
COLLECTABLES 4899 Paralyzed / Who's Knocking On My Door 199? US
NORTON 45-006 (p/s) Relaxation / I Ride A Tractor 199? US
NORTON 45-012 (p/s) I Hate CD's / Linda 1992 US


THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY : ALBUMS
AMAZING LUNA SERIES AM-LSC 999 1984 US ROCK-IT TO STARDOM  (LP)
Paralyzed-'80's/I Walk A Hot Wind/Radar/Fly Me To The Moon/I Took A Trip (On A Space Shuttle)/Cast-Iron Apron/Cactus/Shadow Of A Tiger/Who's Knocking On My Door?/Brass Rainbow/Shootout On A C.B. Channel/Mr. Songwriter/Dynamite/Crack Of Dawn/Rock-It To Stardom/Rock-It To Stardom/Bathroom Blues  (with the West Texas Sci-Clones feat. Steve Doerr:gtr,Don Leady:gtr,Jim Colegrove:gtr/st.gtr/bs/hca/perc,Mike Buck:dms; produced by Jim Yanaway) (reissues: Big Beat 32/Amazing CD AMCD-999)

1986 US RETRO ROCKET BACK TO EARTH  (CD)
Blade Runner/Linda/Geiger Counter/Westward Trek/Stealth Cowboy/Earthquake/Credit Card Blues/I Hate CD's/There'll Be Hot Coffee/The Magic In Your Eyes/Egyptian Maiden/Linda (reprise)/Relaxation/I Ride A Tractor/Someone Took The Yellow From My Egg/Pahrump/World's Worst Tittles/Red Telephone/Idiots Running Sideways/Arise!/Red Eyes/Saturn/Rubber Hits The Road/I Love My Bed/New Jersey Turnpike  (feat. Scotty Vollmer:gtr,Mike Smoth:keys,Ken Schick:sax,Les Harris:sax,Teddy Bear Jones:bs/keys,Mark Renner:French horn,Chris Mondt:bonaphone,Joey Myers:dms/perc) (reissues: New Rose ?, 198? FRA/Last Call CD 422458)

NEW ROSE 184 1989 FRA THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY RIDES AGAIN  (LP)
Relaxation/I Ride A Tractor/Someone Took The Yellow From My Egg/Pahrump/World's Worst Titles/Red Telephone/Idiots Running Sideways/Arise!/Red Eyes/Saturn/Rubber Hits The Road/I Love My Bed/New Jersey Turnpike

LEDGE 001 1990? Unauthorized Australian PARALYZED  (LP)
Paralyzed/I Took A Trip On A Gemini Spaceship/Kiss And Run/Who's Knocking On My Door/Down In The Wrecking Yard/Everybody's Getting Bigger But Our Love  (late 1960s recordings)

NEW ROSE 260 1991 FRA RETRO ROCKET BACK TO EARTH / RIDES AGAIN  (CD)
(2 LP's on 1 cd; reissue: New Rose BLUES 4458, 1996)

BUG HOUSE/PRAVDA 4 1998 US LIVE IN CHICAGO  (CD)
(recorded live at Lounge Ax in Chicago, Illinois in 1998 with Frank Novicki:gtr & Klaus Flouride:bs & Mike Burns:dms)

CRACKED PISTON RECORDINGS - 2002 US THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY & THE ALTAMONT BOYS: TOKYO  (CD)
Play My Guitar/Hot Wedding In San Jose/Gears In The Sun/As I Gaze (Mixed Emotions)/Down In The Wrecking Yard/Winds Of Time/Slide Rule/All Night Cowboy/Space Daddy (David Bowie)/Tokyo/Color Me Blue, Paint Me Pink/Stemmons Freeway South/Constructive Criticism  (feat. Jay Rosen:gtr,Klaus Flouride:bs & Joey Myers:dms)

THE LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY : COMPILATIONS

WENDI 00006 1979/80 AUS V/A: THEY WANNA FIGHT  (LP)
Paralyzed
K-TEL NE 1023 198? US V/A: (KENNY EVERETT'S) WORLD'S WORST RECORD SHOW  (LP)
Paralyzed
BIG BEAT WIK/CDWIK 18 1984/1989 UK V/A: ROCKABILLY PSYCHOSIS AND THE GARAGE DISEASE  (LP/CD)
Paralyzed
RHINO 71783 1994 US V/A: TEXAS MUSIC, VOL.3 - GARAGE BANDS & PSYCHEDELIA  (CD)
Paralyzed
LAST CALL 3022122 1997 FRA V/A: CHARACTERS  (CD)
Relaxation
? 199? US V/A: SONGS IN THE KEY OF Z: THE CURIOUS UNIVERSE OF OUTSIDER MUSIC  (CD)
Standing In A Trash Can (Thinking About You)

 

One of my favorite records of all time.
LOVE the cover as well.

 

New Rose Cd featuring 2 lp's on one disc
Retro Rocket Back To Earth and Rides Again

 

LEGENDARY STARDUST COWBOY
Live in Chicago
Bughouse/Pravda

"From Lubbock, Texas, by way of Mars..."

This is how The Legendary Stardust Cowboy is introduced at the outset of this album, recorded live at the Lounge Ax in Chicago in 1998. As his band is going full-throttle on a galloping, surfadelic version of "Ghost Riders In The Sky", the Legendary One plays a few moose-in-heat notes on his battered bugle and baits his audience: "What are you so happy for? What are you so happy about?" Another bugle solo and the song comes to a halt.

By this time, the audience probably is ready to believe that Mars stuff. And by the end of the next song — The Ledge's signature tune, "Paralyzed" — everyone present is surely convinced the man is possessed by aliens. The song is a thunderous Bo Diddley-on-trucker-crank blast of twangy mayhem, with the Cowboy sputtering incomprehensible tuneless lyrics punctuated by wild whoops and animal-like screams.

"Paralyzed" today doesn't sound any less strange than it did when The Legendary Stardust Cowboy played it for an unsuspecting and unprepared nation on Rowan & Martin's "Laugh-In" 30 years ago during his first brush with fame. But don't buy that Martian crap. The Ledge's wild cries and spontaneous "wooo-hoooo" declarations are those of pure Earthly joy. Billy The Kid probably made near-identical noises while escaping from the Lincoln County jail.

To this Cowboy, rockin' in the free world means celebrating your freedom by shouting insane boasts that the First Lady of the United States was "knockin' on my door" like some lust-crazed, middle-aged Gloria. It means turning workaday drudgery like driving a tractor into a breathtaking amusement-park ride. Don't worry about "understanding" whatever it is The Legendary Stardust Cowboy says or does. Just bask in the freedom he represents.

— STEPHEN W. TERRELL

(Bughouse, P.O. Box 268043, Chicago, Ill. 60626)

 

All hail - the Ledge rules!!!

 

I was wondering if anyone cared.
Thanx Mr Indy Mike

 

We do care, we're just trying to get through the novel of a thread you've posted. I must say that I am now a convert after reading it. I'm going to seek out some LSC stuff soon!!

Thanx Tradergoatee!!

 

Wonderful stuff - who's next, Hasil Adkins??? "Cut yo' head off'bout half past 8, have it on the wall 'bout half past ten".....

 

Needless to say if anyone has any ?'s about "The Ledge" I am 100% certain That I can answer them.

 

Here's a pic and review of the American Pressing of his first full length lp ROCK IT TO STARDOM.



AMG REVIEW: Rock-It to Stardom is a fun record on multiple levels. Instrument-wise, it's good stripped-down rockabilly with crashing, repetitive drums and guitars flailing all about. Norman Carl Odam (the Legendary Stardust Cowboy himself) screams and whoops wildly. As a vocalist, he's up there with Wild Man Fischer in volume and wildness, and Lucia Pamela in content. He sings not infrequently about space travel, the moon, and often nothing intelligible at all. One could appreciate this as a great rockabilly record, a pseudo-psychedelic freakout, or an Irwin Chusid-style marginal novelty. (In fact, Odam was featured in Chusid's book on "outsider music," entitled Songs in the Key of Z.) Odam and his band, the West Texas Sci-Clones, display an admirable range of songwriting styles, each of them recorded in an appropriately strange and deranged style. There are a few hard-driving tracks, some Texas lounge numbers, and even a ballad addressed to "Mr. Songwriter." Aside from the music, Rock-It to Stardom also treats the listener to some interviews and spoken word portions. In one, Odam states his intention to be the first person to obtain an international passport so that he might travel to other planets. — Ben Tausig