Category Archives: afternoon snack

Afternoon Snack: Jesus Christ Superstar, “Heaven on Their Minds”

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Diane and I, as noted here before, don’t have a lot in common musically.

Surely, my partner has a shuffle, and a bunch of tunes she likes to listen to when she is running, but virtually none of the songs are ones that interest me. She likes hip hop, and dance songs from the 90’s, mostly, although occasionally an AC/DC (Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap) or Boston (Foreplay/Long Time) song will sprinkle into her play list.

Not so, JCSS, which, when we discovered we each loved, caused me to download the original 1970 version from Amazon. Diane also was most familiar with that version, that featured Ian Gillian and Murray Head, although she also likes watching the movie when it appears at Easter (kind of like I enjoy watching Ben Hur at Christmas time).

What is also funny, was shortly after we both discovered a mutual love for JCSS, I was at our local recycle center, where in addition to dumping cardboard and styrofoam peanuts, there is an area where folks dump books and old records and DVDs (well, more like VHS tapes), and what was on top of a stack of vinyl but a copy of the original album (no liner notes, though). So, I grabbed it, and played it last week going through my vinyl binging.

When that album first came out, in 1970, I confess that I knew virtually nothing about Jesus historically. Having grown up as a nice Jewish boy in Suburban Sacramento, the subject just didn’t come up.

But, I did buy the cassette for some reason back then, and at least learned the Rice/Lloyd Webber take on the final week of Jesus’ life. And, I thought (and still do) that the whole work–vocals, lyrics, arrangements, and the musicianship–are just fantastic.

In particular, that body of players who delivered the guitars and bass and drums were indeed the part that has intrigued me most. Culled largely from the Grease Band, who toured behind Joe Cocker (check them out at Woodstock: killer) the principle rock musicians in JCSS play so beautifully, and appropriately, that it is almost sick.

Led by Henry McCullough (the Grease Band, and Wings) and Neil Hubbard (the Grease Band, and Roxy Music) on guitars, bass player Alan Spenner (the Grease Band, Mick Taylor, Alvin Lee, and Roxy Music), and drummer Bruce Rowland (Fairport Convention, and the Grease Band), Jesus Christ, Superstar is arguably the best of that oddity known as the rock opera. That means I like it better than either Tommy, or Quadrophenia, both of which I love to pieces, meaning this is high praise.

I do puzzle, though for usually rock’and’rollers don’t sight read symphonic charts, which I would guess is what was produced, and conversely, I have a hard time with Rice/Lloyd Webber thinking in terms of bending an “A” to a “B” starting on the seventh fret of the fourth string, with a little bit of reverb for a fill, so I do wonder just where the collaboration starts and stops.

Fortunately, it is simply a philosophical question, and in no way interferes with just how dead on the drums are, how the strumming and guitar play just enhances the words (which are very good), and how the bass interplays with both.

You can look down your nose at this work, and it might not even be your cup of tea, but no doubt these guys can seriously play.

Afternoon Snack: Fleetwood Mac, “Showbiz Blues

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Dust is some nasty shit. Swear.

I did a lot of cooking this morning. I don’t really have any family in this country, so fortunately, my late wife, Cathy’s, family decided to hang onto me.

the mac

I say this because Cathy’s mom, Edie, turns 80 on Monday (go girl!), and later today we have a celebration planned.

Where the dust comes in is that Thursday morning, as part of the spate of rain we have been jonesing for in Northern California for the past six months, it got cold where Cathy’s brother, Eric, and his wife Jill (these would be Lindsay’s folks) live, and Jill slipped on some black ice. The results were a broken wrist and fractures to her cheek (hopefully she won’t need surgery there), meaning a nasty fall.

This meant a couple of things: first, Jill is on a soup diet for a spell, and second, Jill always makes birthday cakes (except for her birthday, when I do it) and well, no way that was going to happen.

So, I took it upon myself this morning to both bake Edie her cake (blueberry-buttermilk bundt with glaze), and also make some soft stuff Jill could eat (creamed spinach, honey-pepper-cheese grits, and tomato basil soup). If you don’t get this yet, I really love to cook, so I had a good time doing this.

But, inspired both by Peter’s posting of I’m in Love With My Car, and Tom’s Sometimes Good Guys Don’t Wear White, I decided to fire up the turntable while cooking for a few hours, and listen to some stuff I had not heard for a while. Plus, I like vinyl.

I started with A Night at the Opera, per Peter, and it was so fun. Death on Two Legs is wonderful, as is Sweet Lady (“you call me sweet, like I’m some kind of cheese,” what a line), and then I went to the first side of Jesus Christ, Superstar (sorry, guilty pleasure, but the band is killer, and well, it is sentimental for Diane and me), t0 Their Satanic Majesty’s Request (who hoo, In Another Land, and Citadel), then Boston’s first (sorry, another guilty pleasure, but a fun guitar album), Idlewild South, and finally to Then Play On.

When I first bought it, Then Play On was my favorite album, and it was followed by Kiln House.  I cannot remember which, but I believe one of those made my 50 essentials.

Then Play On is really Peter Green’s album, and a beautiful one it is. So vast and varied, and well, it has the iconic Oh Well, but that is not even my favorite cut on the album. In fact, I don’t know what is.

But, where the dust comes in is I have not played a few of these albums in a while, maybe 20 years, and I cleaned them before playing, but they had so damn much dust, it took playing the sides or songs a few times before I could get a real listen.

But, it was worth it. This recording is really just the studio one from the album, but it has two-plus minutes of stoned out banter and mistakes before the song gets underway (which was the song on the album after Show Biz, and I tried to find a pairing because the two work so well together), but it is pretty good fun.

We will get to more of the Mac, one of the most interesting bands of all time, another time.

For now, dig Peter A, whom if you listen, Santana got his sound from.

Afternoon Snack: Hayes Carll, “Bad Liver and a Broken Heart”

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I had never heard of Hayes Carll (or the Drive by Truckers, for that matter) till I joined the BileTones, and our lead singer, Tom Nelson insisted we cover songs by each.

The Hayes Carll nomination was this song, which Peter’s last “Name That Tune” brought to mind.

It’s a killer song, very funny, and it rocks.

I tried to find a good live version, and this was the best (in fact, Carll opened for the Truckers at this gig). Most of the live stuff is digital phone, hand held. But, do try to catch the words if you dare.

Check him out, though. I mean, how can you not love a guy who wrote a song called One Bed, Two Women, Three Bottles of Wine?

Afternoon Snack: Smokey Robinson, “Ooh Baby Baby,” & Captain Beefheart, “I’m Glad”

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Today I brought my Rickenbacker along to my guitar lesson (as opposed to my bass) just because I felt like playing some guitar, and Steve pulled up this wonderful Captain Beefheart cut, I’m Glad from the album  Safe as Milk.

I have that disc, as well as the seminal Trout Mask Replica, though I have not listened to either of them in years, so I sort of forgot about them. We were working on the arpeggios within the cool progression (played here by Ry Cooder) and at one moment, I stopped dead, looked at Steve, and said, “this is Ooh Baby Baby,” and Steve quickly nodded and said, “yeah, I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

Both are great, and different in their own way, but the crossover is unmistakable; however, you be the judge.

And now the inimitable Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.

Afternoon Snack: Eagles, “Disco Strangler”

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I know what you are thinking. Ugh. The Eagles. I understand. Truth is I feel about them the same way I feel about Hall and Oates. Which is basically, I am not sure I like them, but I definitely like some of their songs.

Which is not really fair. One song, and you can dismiss, but there are four or five from each group anyway, that I know I really like (I think this is where Elton John falls for me, too). So, it is hard to really dislike a band that at least got to you more than a couple of times.

Plus, I do like just about anything Joe Walsh does, or at least has a hand in. And, it is still hard for some reason to suppress the Lebowski instinct to hate the band.

This is a really great cut, though. Very well executed. Great drums (by Henley) and the bass by Timothy B. Schmidt just plays off those staccato chops by Walsh.

I get the band may not be your cup of tea, but give this track a shot. It ain’t bad.

Afternoon Snack: Ani DiFranco and Ry Cooder, “Deportee”

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Congressman Steve King blasted the President yesterday because the first family invited Ana Zamora–a Dream Act candidate–to sit with Michele Obama during the State of the Union speech.

Zamora did not merit being referred to by name: rather King tweeted “#Obama perverts ‘prosecutorial discretion’ by inviting a deportable to sit in place of honor at #SOTU w/1st Lady,” King wrote. “I should sit with Alito.”

Basically that means King is in congress to represent the xenophobes and bigots within our population (you know who you are).

I tweeted back that King should check out the Lucinda Williams/David Rodriguez  song, Deportee. In the tweet I noted that he would like the song since all the undocumented die in a plane crash at the end of the song.

I have a live version my friend Les burned for me (by Williams and Rodriguez), but I could not find it on YouTube. But, in searching, I discovered the song was written by Woody Guthrie, and is based upon a real incident (the actual title is Deportee (Plane Crash at Los Gatos).

Anyway, I found this cool version by Ani DiFranco and Ry Cooder. Good stuff.

And, fucking bite me Steve King. Good thing you descended from Native Americans, and not from immigrants (that was sarcasm Steve: I forgot, you are not smart enough to understand sarcasm without an explanation).

Afternoon Snack: Shawn Colvin “Viva Las Vegas”

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Lots of activity here the past few days, so I have a lot with which to catch up.

My last 72 hours have largely been at the point of some form of distraction at the Fantasy Sports Trade Association Winter Convention, which is always held in the strange city in the midst of the Nevada Desert.

It is always a lot of fun going, even though Las Vegas just seems stupid to me (on the money you spend to go to Las Vegas New York, and maybe lose gambling, you could just go to New York?) especially since I neither gamble nor drink.

This year was particularly great as our good friend Jeff Erickson was inducted into the Fantasy Writers Hall of Fame, and there is always a trip to the truly miraculous “Lotus of Siam” restaurant with Jeff and his Rotowire colleagues, Chris Liss, Derek Van Riper, and Tim Schuler.

As we were on route to one of the meals we had, I noted how the casino at the Bellagio seemed kind of dead compared to past years, and Jeff noted that Vegas was indeed hurting. He said that the next generation of adults coming up were all weaned on video games and the idea of paying to visit a place to play Black Jack or Craps when at worst you could do that online. And, at best there are any other number of games to play, for profit, or not.

So, in  honor of the palate of the human spectacle the three days wrought–friendship, food, congratulations, potential economic meltdown, desperation–I tried to think of a Vegas-based tune to represent the time.

Obviously Elvis’ rendition Viva Las Vegas  came to mind first, but I played some Elvis on his birthday. Then, there is Sheryl Crow’s Leaving Las Vegas. Crow’s song is actually pretty good, as is she, though it took a while for her to win me over. But, Sheryl Crow is a pretty good singer/songwriter, and even pretty strong musician.

But then I remembered the fine Shawn Colvin treatment of Viva, which was Written by Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman, from the movie The Big Lewbowski,  and that nailed it.

This version abides.

Afternoon Snack: For Squirrels, “8:02 P.M.”

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I bought For Squirrels big label debut album after reading a pretty good Rollingstone review that noted the band had ceased due to a fatal auto accident that involved the group’s van. As part of that crash three members of For Squirrels were killed, along with the band’s manager.

Example, that disc, is pretty strong across the board. Nothing sensational, but none-the-less listenable from start to finish, and a solid first attempt. Unfortunately Example was released a month after the holocaust.

My understanding is the band was pretty good live (there were playback issues with YouTube share of the live performances, so I stuck with the album track). As for the band’s name, the apocryphal story is the band would play anywhere, anytime for anyone. They would even play “for squirrels.”

Would have been good to see how they might have developed. Gotta love a band with Rickenbackers at bass and guitar.