BoDeans formed in 1980 when high school friends Kurt Neumann and Sam Llanas decided to get serious about their music and write songs together. They were initially called Da BoDeans.
By 1985 they had a recording contract and were in the studio recording their debut album with star producer T-Bone Burnett. Love & Hope & Sex & Dreams (1986) took its name for the lyrics to The Rolling Stones “Shattered” and contained the FM radio hit “Fadeaway.”
BoDeans roots-rock sound on this album is simple and slight, but very catchy. The guitar interplay and vocal harmony overcome the thin, repetitive lyrics to make the song a very enjoyable listen.
Unfortunately, around 2010 things went bad between Neumann and Llanas, with some very ugly allegations of misconduct. Llanas quit the band and Neumann has continued the band without him.
Today we commemorate the 20th anniversary of the terrible terror attack on the United States. In reaction, many music artists wrote songs about the horrible 9/11 events.
In November 2001, Neil young released “Let’s Roll”, a phrase that was attributed to Todd Beamer, one of the heroes on Flight 93 that crashed in PA. Todd was heard on a phone uttering the words as he and other passengers took action to take control of the flight to prevent the hijackers from using the plane to crash into its target.
This wasn’t the first time Young quickly released a record in response to a news event. In 1970, Young wrote “Ohio” after the May 4 shooting of students at Kent State University. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young recorded the song and released it in June 1970.
Tori Amos gave us the haunting “I Can’t See New York.”
Thirteen thousand and holding Swallowed In the purring Of her engines
But I can’t see new York As I’m, circling down Through white cloud Falling out And I know His lips are warm But I can’t seem To find my way out My way out I can’t see Of this hunting ground
Bruce Springsteen devoted an entire album – The Rising (2002) – to songs that addressed the aftermath of events of 9/11 from various perspectives. This was an ambitious project that only someone with Springsteen’s perception could handle so deftly. “My City of Ruins” is a hymn in the mold of Curtis Mayfield’s “People Get Ready.”
There’s a blood red circle on the cold dark ground And the rain is falling down The church door’s thrown open, I can hear the organ’s song But the congregation’s gone My city of ruins
Now the sweet bells of mercy drift through the evening trees Young men on the corner like scattered leaves The boarded up windows, the empty streets While my brother’s down on his knees My city of ruins
Now there’s tears on the pillow, darling, where we slept And you took my heart when you left Without your sweet kiss my soul is lost, my friend Tell me how do I begin again My city’s in ruins
The song’s sadness of the verses change to healing in the final section:
Now with these hands, with these hands With these hands, with these hands I pray, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for the faith, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for your love, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for your love, Lord (with these hands, with these hands) I pray for the faith, Lord (with these hands), alright (with these hands) I pray for the strength, Lord (with these hands), come on (with these hands), come on Come on rise up, come on rise up Come on rise up, come on rise up
May all we Americans heal together as we mourn on this solemn day.
Two weeks ago, Connie Hamzy died. She was 66. What band was she in? Well, she wasn’t in any band – she was a real life “Penny Lane”; a Groupie based in Little Rock, AR, and the “sweet, sweet Connie” made (almost) famous by Grand Funk.
Out on the road for forty days Last night in Little Rock put me in a haze Sweet, sweet Connie, doin’ her act She had the whole show and that’s a natural fact
She also earned a mention in a less well known song about life on the road – “Pleasin’ For Reason” — by The Guess Who.
Order some cash, we’ve got another tour to make Workin’ so hard, just to pass the time away Connie my love, our movie was great and so was the taste It was pleasin’ for reason
And she scored a trifecta, getting name-checked in yet another song, by Cheap Trick!
I had a vision That was bigger than life Oh Connie likes nighttime, every night Connie likes candy, every bite All day sucker, Connie might Swallow that thing ’cause she does it right
The enterprising Connie was so determined to become a famous Groupie that she made round, pink stickers that she gave to the bands and roadies. They read “Call Connie in Little Rock” and included her phone number. I searched the internet for a picture of one but couldn’t find it.
Connie’s connections to members of The Allman Brothers, The Who, ZZ Top, The Doobie Brothers, Rush, Eagles, KISS, Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, Queen, and Fleetwood Mac make her one of the most famous Groupies of all time.
Connie was unapologetic about her lifestyle. And I’m not here to judge. But I read comments from many of the people that knew her, published in The Lefsetz Letter, and they were all respectful and mentioned how sweet she was and how well she treated the bands.
She wrote a memoir titled Rock Groupie: Intimate Adventures of ‘Sweet Connie’ that was published in 1995. She also spent a considerable number of years in a very different occupation… as a substitute teacher in Little Rock!
Tommy Bolin was a great guitarist. He would be much better known and recognized if he hadn’t died 45 years ago at the age of 25. Yes, that’s right – he was only 25. He didn’t even make it to the 27 club with Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison and Cobain!
When you read reviews of the groups he played with (Zephyr, The James Gang, Deep Purple) they often comment on the lack of top notch material but always acknowledge Bolin’s guitar playing as a highlight. It didn’t help that his stints with The James Gang and Deep Purple followed the departure of other well-known guitarists (Joe Walsh, Ritchie Blackmore) at times when the bands were in decline and receiving much less attention from the press and fans alike.
But even at his young age, he had the chops to play and record with fusion giants such as Billy Cobham and Alphonse Mouzon.
Bolin also released two high quality solo albums — Teaser (1975) and Private Eyes (1976) – before he died in December 1976.
Here’s a sampler of his recordings through the years:
Zephyr was a pretty tight band that could move in and out of straight rock and jazz influenced music, as “Sail On” demonstrates. But the band suffered from Candy Given’s overwrought, screechy vocals.
“Alexis” begins as a ballad but just before the 3 minute mark it turns heavy and becomes a vehicle for Bolin to solo and squeeze gallons of emotion from his fretboard.
“Post Toastee” has a cool riff and acts as a vehicle for some extended soloing by Bolin that show off both his fusion and rock influences. It was a favorite show closer on his last tour.
So, my ultimate goal here was to bring some notice to an overlooked and often forgotten guitar talent. I hope I succeeded.
One of my favorite “hidden classics” is Lee Michaels’ Carnival of Life. I featured a SotW from that album way back in late 2012.
Although Michaels is known for his work behind the keyboards (organ, piano, harpsichord), one of the best parts of Carnival of Life is the guitar playing by Hamilton W. Watt. But who is Hamilton W. Watt?
Trying to answer that question sent me down an internet wormhole. First I landed on this interesting obituary:
And by the time I came out, I had discovered a terrific album that I hadn’t heard before – A Gift from Euphoria, by Euphoria.
Euphoria was a duo made up of Watt and William Lincoln. They were signed to Capitol Records and made one album that was released in 1969. That album has become a cult classic among record collectors. (No, I don’t own a copy!) It is well regarded for the eclectic mix of styles that are executed so well. The album has symphonic ballads (think Moody Blues), hippy country rock (like The Byrds), psych, and songs that integrate sound collages (like The Beatles “Tomorrow Never Knows”).
Today’s SotW – “Through a Window” – is the cut that makes the best use of Watt’s guitar prowess.
After listening through the whole album a couple of times I happened to pick up my copy of The MOJO Collection – The Greatest Albums of All Time, and guess what? A Gift from Euphoria is represented in the section for 1969!
To fully appreciate this album, you should listen to it all the way through. It isn’t available on Spotify, but the full album can be found on YouTube.
Joe Jackson entered the music scene with the release of Look Sharp!, in 1979. He and fellow Brits Elvis Costello and Graham Parker were lumped together as punk rockers (or maybe new wavers) by the music press. But all three were more aligned with the pub rock scene (as was Nick Lowe and Rockpile).
Look Sharp! contained the evergreen “Is She Really Going Out with Him?” along with several other songs that were popular on college radio. Seven months later, still in 1979, Jackson released his second album – I’m the Man. That disc has one of my favorite Jackson cuts – the beautiful “It’s Different for Girls.”
“It’s Different for Girls” was much more popular in the UK than the US. It reached #5 in the UK but couldn’t break into the Top 100 here in the US. I don’t get it.
The verse has a beautiful melody that floats over a simple two-note guitar pattern. The lyrics are a gender bending take on which of the sexes is more permissive. Stereotypically the girl (not woman in this song) is “holding out” and the guy is ready to jump into bed at the go. But not in this one.
What the hell is wrong with you tonight I can’t seem to say or do the right thing Wanted to be sure you’re feeling right Wanted to be sure we want the same thing
She said, I can’t believe it You can’t Possibly mean it Don’t we, All want the same thing Don’t we, Well who said anything about love
So then, what is “different for girls?” I think Jackson is twisting the typical male attitude that boys are different because they aren’t emotionally tied to sex. But it’s the girl in this lyric who says “Who said anything about love?”
Jackson went on to record and release a few, more sophisticated, jazz influenced pop albums that yielded hits such as “Steppin’ Out”, Breaking Us in Two”, and “You Can’t Get What You Want (Til You Know What You Want).”
But by the late ‘90s Jackson had turned away from pop and began to focus more on classical music. He still performs and released an album, Fool, as recently as 2019.
The ‘70s hit band Bread was known for their soft rock, love ballads, sung by David Gates. Besides Gates, the core of the band included Jimmy Griffin (vocals, guitar, keyboard) and Robb Royer (bass, guitar, keys and other instruments). For many, including me, Bread is a guilty pleasure.
But that’s not the whole story of this band. They had chops and could really rock out. Take, for instance, the lead track from their fourth (and best) album, Baby I’m-a Want You (1972) – “Mother Freedom.”
By this point, the great LA session musician, Larry Knechtel, was the full-time bass player, replacing Royer. (Knechtel played the piano part on Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge over Troubled Water” and was on the sessions for many classic albums, including Pet Sounds, The Doors, Mr. Tambourine Man, and Alone Together.)
“Mother Freedom” clocks in at under 3 minutes but rocks with a funky riff, some nifty solo guitar work, and exciting vocal harmonies. Freedom from guilt!
Today’s SotW was written by guest contributor Steve Studebaker. Steve leads Blind to Reason as their guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter. Their music streams on Spotify. Besides BTR, Steve is a musicologist and huge ZZ Top fan. So when I learned ZZ Top bassist Dusty Hill died this week, I knew just the guy to call on to pay tribute to him for the SotW.
Anyone who knows me knows I love the blues, and blues rock — Zeppelin, the Stones. Robin Trower, Allmans, et al. But the band who got me going at a young age was ZZ Top. That Little Ol’ Band from Texas.
I saw them for the first time as a teenager in 1975 on the ‘Fandango’ tour. I was about 20 feet from the stage at the Portland Memorial Coliseum. Always with great style, their stage was empty except for the drums, flanked on either side with a huge row of Marshall stacks re-branded as “Rio Grande” amps. Billy and Dusty powder blue sequined cowboy suits and ten-gallon hats. They tore the roof off the joint. My ears rang for days and my mind was blown. I’ve seen them several more times, most recently a couple of years ago with my younger son. They never disappointed.
Formed in the late sixties and just recently celebrating 50 years together, they managed to play original music that sounded like classic blues. Texas blues in the style of Albert and Freddie King. They played loud but with finesse; hard edged but always a little bit funky.
Both Billy Gibbons and Dusty were known for a minimalist style. Exactly the right note at exactly the right time. Perfectly in sync and in the pocket, with no unnecessary fluff.
Here’s an example. If you want to hear the baddest, funkiest, opening 30 seconds in classic rock, put on their third album Tres Hombres. The first cut is “Waitin’ for the Bus”. Billy starts off with a blistering lick on his Les Paul (named Pearly Gates), and then Dusty walks in with the drums 3 bars later. Magic. Turn the volume way up!
Of course guitarist and vocalist Billy Gibbons gets the lion’s share of accolades. Rightly so. Jimi Hendrix called him one of the world’s greatest guitar players. But a bass player in a power trio has to carry the load. He’s the glue that holds the drums, guitar, and vocals together. Dusty Hill did all of that and more. Throughout their discography you’ll hear syncopated, polytonic bass parts that other arena rock bands want no part of. Dusty sometimes sang backup vocals, but ironically he sang the lead on their biggest radio hit, “Tush”.
In my book, their greatest albums are the aforementioned Tres Hombres and their sixth album Deguello. But every one of their records has a radio hit, with tasty licks, funky rhythms, and more than a few psychedelic desert sojourns.
Legend has it that the first time Billy and Frank met Dusty, he passed out and fell off the barstool. They looked at each other and said, “He’s gonna fit in just fine.”
In that spirit, check out cut 3 on Tres Hombres. It’s another great bass performance, as he and Billy do “call and response” vocals. As you listen, raise a glass to Joseph Michael “Dusty” Hill.
If you want the whole story check out the documentary That Little Ol’ Band from Texas on Netflix.
Today’s SotW was written by guest contributor Michael Paquette. It’s his third post this year!
This song seems even more relevant now than it did when it was released in 1989. Lou Reed’s 15th studio release New York was highly critically acclaimed. It even spawned a reunion of the Velvet Underground due to its popularity. The Village Voice rated it the third best album of 1989 in its annual Pazz and Jop critics poll.
Lou Reed had a bit of a rocky period before being signed by Seymour Stein to his Sire label in 1989. Sire records had earned a reputation for its progressive taste and having the ability to translate those tastes into mainstream media. The label propelled the careers of the Ramones, Talking Heads, the Smiths, the Pretenders, the Cure, and Depeche Mode. Notably, the label signed an underground dance artist from New York named Madonna and turned her into a superstar. Lou Reed definitely fit the model.
New York is a stripped down, raw, and hard hitting album. The band consisted of Lou Reed, guitarist Mike Rathke, bassist Rob Wasserman, and drummer Fred Maher. Lou reached out to Maher who had been playing in England with the band Scritti Politti, a new wave act. Maher was behind the drums on Reed’s New Sensations release. Lou asked Maher who might be a good producer and Maher, noting that Reed had had several tempestuous relationships with former producers responded with “how about me.” Thus, Maher produced this release. The album was done in six weeks and Maher said he found Lou easy to work with.
The raw, stripped down sound was not to everyone’s taste. The singer songwriter James McMurty asked John Mellencamp what he thought of the work and Mellencamp replied that it sounded like it was produced by an eighth grader but I like it. The AIDS epidemic was raging at the time of the release and these were people Lou Reed had long standing ties to, gays, IV drug users, and artists. The song “Halloween Parade” pays homage to this era.
The song I chose from this breakthrough work is “Busload of Faith,” a song that is conceptually bold and simple. A stark reminder of where we are in this politically divided nation.
The song opens side two and begins without apology.
You can’t depend on your family
You can’t depend on a beginning
You can’t depend on an end
You can’t depend on intelligence
You can’t depend on God
You can only depend on one thing
you need a busload of faith to get by
When the album was recorded Lou had given up drugs and alcohol. With his life turned around he felt he had the stamina and concentration to produce a concept album. The album was a great artistic success for him even though it was not a huge hit. It remains my favorite album of this legendary artist. It was voted the 19th best album of the 1980s by Rolling Stone magazine. Lou performed all the songs on the album at the Theatre Saint-Denis in Montreal which was released as a DVD entitled The New York Album.
It was released as a box set in September of last year with a second CD of previously unreleased live performances of his 1989 tour and some alternate mixes. Bob Seger covered “Busload of Faith” on his 2017 release dedicated to Eagles’ Glenn Frey called I Knew You When. This song continues to work as a political anthem.
Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the highway accident that took the life of Harry Chapin. He was only 38 years old. He was one of the good guys.
Chapin used his celebrity to do good. He worked tirelessly to end world hunger through his work with Bill Ayers and as a member of the Carter Administration’s Presidential Commission on World Hunger. His work in this regard was inspirational to the organizers of Live Aid, USA for Africa, and Hands Across America.
By the mid-’70s Chapin, half of all of Chapin’s performances were benefit concerts. It has been said that he never rejected a request to perform at a fundraiser for just about any cause. In 1977, he did a fundraiser for filmmaker Michael Moore to help Moore launch The Flint Voice, a Detroit area underground weekly newspaper that covered issues important to the progressive left.
Today’s SotW is Chapin’s “Cat’s in the Cradle.”
The “story song” that’s about a dad who regrets he never prioritized spending time with his son when the shoe is on the other foot and his grown son doesn’t have time for him.
I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away I called him up just the other day I said, I’d like to see you if you don’t mind He said, I’d love to, dad, if I can find the time You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kids have the flu But it’s sure nice talking to you, dad It’s been sure nice talking to you And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me He’d grown up just like me My boy was just like me
“Cat’s in the Cradle” has more cultural references than just about any song ever written. It has been namechecked in The Simpsons, The Office, and Modern Family. Check out this link for a more comprehensive list of references.
On July 16, 1981, Chapin’s car was in a collision with a semi-trailer. His car burst into flames. Passersby were able to drag him out of the car but his body was without proper ID. However, a pocket watch in his possession helped to identify him. The watch was a gift from Michael Moore to Chapin for the help he provided back in ’77 with an inscription that was the key. It read “From the Flint Voice. To a great American, Harry Chapin.” Yes, indeed!