I read a lot of news about Steve Miller and the Black Keys and the Hall of Fame induction that happened in my home town this past week. Yawn.
But looking at it a bit more closely there are two important streams of thought:
The Black Keys were pissed that Steve Miller didn’t really care who they were.
And Steve Miller pretty directly explained why the RnR HoF process is even stupider than those of us who only pay partial attention think it is.
So, Miller is an asshole for dissing the Black Keys and a hero for taking on the Rock ‘n’ Roll HOF foundation? I’m not sure how to do the math, but I personally give him a lot more credit for railing against the machine than I do the Black Keys dissing an artist.
I posted about Jimmy Webb’s song Wichita Lineman, or rather Freedy Johnson’s version of it, a few years ago here. But today is the day for appreciating linemen (actually it was yesterday, but close enough), this seems like a good time to take a look at the Glen Campbell version, which was a No. 3 hit in 1968 (No. 1 on the country charts).
Campbell is backed on the record by the Wrecking Crew, of which he was a member.
Reading about the Campbell version, I learned about the many other covers of the tune. Most surprisingly? Kool and the Gang.
Jazzy instrumental, hard to not think of the lyrics though it goes to a totally different place.
The inspiration for the song, according to the Wikipedia entry, was a lineman working atop a telephone pole who Webb saw while driving across Oklahoma and brooding about a failed romantic relationship. Webb imagined himself on the pole, talking to his gal, his heart breaking. Webb called the image “the picture of loneliness.”
We watched Bridge of Spies tonight. Spielberg working from a Coen Brothers rewrite. What could be bad?
It isn’t bad, but it is thematically and historically weak. Donald Trump would say, Low energy. And it’s a fine reminder about the Cold War.
But this Lou Reed song, which is a major theatrical event, trumps. (No pun intended.) Because of the guitars. (Squaring the circle, it’s from the album Berlin.)
I was streaming 60’s hits on Spotify as I drove to meet the family for dinner Friday evening, and the lovely Alone Again, Or by Love came willowing out of the speakers via my IPhone.
I was always a big Love fan, but the song that really did it for me was this one, 7 And 7 Is. I was 13 when the song was released in June of 1966 and along with I Fought the Law the song was easily my favorite of the summer (though You’re Gonna Miss Me by the 13th Floor Elevators ranks right there too).
Clearly, the wall of guitars and driving beat prove I was a rocker of the highest order, even back then. And, well, when I pulled the song up on YouTube this morning, 7 And 7 Is had lost none of its punch.
So, rather than chocolate eggs or a spiral ham for Easter, you can get a virtual slug in the chest from the late great Arthur Lee and his mates. And, tell me if the song doesn’t sound as good and advanced today as it did 50 years ago?
The Biletones are gearing up for summer with a new cluster of songs. Summer means a gig back at The Bistro in Hayward end of June, two dates in Madison, Wisconsin and then back to Frankie’s Blue Room in Naperville, Illinois late July/early August, and then a gig in at Raymond’s, in Cazadero, on the California Russian River.
One of the tunes to make the potential set list is the Yardbirds Heart Full of Soul which is great as my rhythm-playing lead singer mate Tom Nelson and I have been lobbying to do something by the band for at least five years.
It should not be necessary to acknowledge that the Yardbirds were the greatest guitar band ever: Just the fact that Jeff Beck, Eric Clapton, and Jimmy Page each held the main axe slot confirms this maxim.
I was sort of shocked when I ran a search on the site here and did not see any entries for the band, so I figured that needed to be corrected.
As it was, I made a Spotify playlist of the songs the band is working on, and after Heart Full of Soul finished, I decided to add The Yardbirds to my artist’s list, and started streaming them as I drove home from golf this morning.
On the way, I had to stop and run an errand, so I stuffed my IPhone–which was doing the streaming–into my pocket, and as I walked to the shop in the little circus, I could hear Still I’m Sad, ostensibly piping through the muzak system. “Such an odd coincidence,” I thought, and then when Shapes of Things came on, I decided whoever controlled the mall streaming was a fan and having a go at it.
Until I realized the music was emanating from my IPhone, which managed to get to “play” in my butt pocket.
So, ok, maybe there is no god, but no denying what a great band The Yardbirds were, and what a great cut Shapes of Things is.
Check it out and try to argue, but you will lose. Every time
The day after Diane Linkletter, daughter of the tv celebrity host, defenestrated herself while on LSD (a cautionary tale of the time in my junior high), John Waters made this cruddy movie, apparently while testing sound gear. It was never released as anything and the transfer here on YouTube is clearly the result of plenty of generations of VHS copies.
For me, despite all the production value problems, Waters and his actors (including Divine, as Diane), are technically clumsy but emotionally on it. This is like rock ‘n’ roll without music and rhythmic pleasure. But at times funny.
A campy and surprisingly, to me, excellent find, a jolt to the heart of parental paranoia.
By Surka – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8345595
They keep dying, and they will keep dying. We will keep dying, I hope not too fast.
Keith Emerson was one third of a supergroup power trio that was huge in the early 70s, riding a crest of progressive pseudo-classical rock (along with Yes, Pink Floyd, Jethro Tull, the Moody Blues, King Crimson and many others) in the maw of punk. And then they were over, for a while.
ELP were notable for some very good songs, like this one, which includes a striking acoustic guitar part by Greg Lake, and also monstrous bombast at times, which was all part of the fun. These guys were rock stars at the height of rock stardom as an unalloyed privilege, which only makes them figuratively immortal.
Since Paul Kantner passed away recently, I have been seriously into listening more and more and deeper and deeper into the catalog of his fantastic band.
Last weekend I was in Phoenix for LABR, and I wound up having a great discussion about music with Sirius/XM’s Kyle Elfrink.
We talked about a lot of stuff, however, Kyle asked me who my favorite bass player was and I said Jack Cassady. “Who,” asked Kyle? Kyle is in his early 30’s meaning he was born long after the Airplane split up, so he certainly can be forgiven this oversight which I promptly corrected by sending the link to The Other Side of This Life from Bless its Pointed Little Head.
However, while checking that video out I first stumbled onto this version of Volunteers the band played when inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Of course the retired Grace Slick was absent, but the rest of the band was there full force. I think what I love–what being an old guy who is proud to call #iambecomingabesimpson my very own hash tag–is the band core of Jorma Kaukonen, Marty Balin, and Cassady, look so neat and trim and nattily attired, yet they still kick the shit out of the song.
The bonus was I stumbled onto this fantastic interview with Kantner and Slick who reminisce about touring with The Doors and Jim Morrison, the first time both bands were in Europe. Its awesome.
There have already been a gazillion words written about Sir George Martin, musical guru and director who shaped the Beatles sound as well as what it would become.
Martin passed away this morning, at age 90, and since there will now be a gazillion more words, I will simply give you Golden Slumbers/Carry that Weight/The End, but, there is a slight caveat.
At LABR last weekend, while talking about the Beatles I learned my more than musical savvy mates Steve Gardner and Brian Walton had never noticed the three guitar wielding members of the Fab 4 trade licks at the end of The End.
Check it out. They trade fours, in the order of Harrison, McCartney, and Lennon.
