Along with Rush and Lynyrd Skynrd, Aerosmith was another band I gave very little thought to during the 70’s and into the late 80’s.
I do confess that Sweet Emotion is great little guitar song, but aside from that, not much the band did tickled much of anything in me till Pump came out in 1989.
As with lots of other bands who had a defined sound, Pump was surely Aerosmith, but it was poppy and accessible like 1984 was for Van Halen, and I really thought the album was a pretty strong effort all around.
But, none of the songs nailed me like the Beatles homage, What It Takes?
From the chorusy solo that points to Let It Be, to the bridge background vocals with the band harmonizing “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,” to the lovely droning arpeggios and fade that are sort of a blend of Let It Be and Hey Jude this is just a great tight little cut that always makes me smile.
Nothing fancy, but in a perfect way, this is sort of the Beatles way much of the time, no matter how complex getting to simple was.
Lynyrd Skynyrd were another band who really made it right when I was in the throes of punk and new wave and listening to the exciting new bands who were reinterpreting rock rather than expanding it under existing rules.
For that reason Freebird just put me to sleep. Remember though, I was 25 when the band hit it big, and I had already had my fill of arena rock and ten minute songs and 12-minute extended guitar solos.
But, with age, I have learned the core band–most of whom died while I was in London in ’77 and when punk had just grabbed me–was a pretty clever guitar band of pretty good musicians with a pretty fun sense of play and humor.
Who knew?
Along with some other bands I did dismiss (like Rush, but not like Styx, Kansas, Toto, et al) I have been listening to the Skynyrd lately and love Mr. Saturday Night, Gimme Three Steps (penned by JJ Cale), and Ooh That Smell among others and they are great little pop/guitar tunes with clever words.
What’s Your Name, however, tops the lists of my faves, so here are the guys laying it out there.
Def Leppard is a band I paid no attention to during their heyday, and truth is, I have listened to some of their stuff of late, and it all kind of sounds the same.
But, this song–which is clearly in their sound wheelhouse–is just a great little pop/rock tune with great drums and fun (if simple) guitar pyrotechnics.
You can love it or hate it, but it is a perfect little pop tune.
I have been listening to some new stuff (Mountain Goats, Built to Spill) of late along with some older stuff (Rush, Lynyrd Skynyrd) and was sifting through time and thoughts trying to figure out what to post when the awful song, A Young Girl, by Noel Harrison popped into my mental playlist.
I hated that song then and it seemed perfect to post here under awful songs. so I went to trusty YouTube and found a pretty good clip of the song from the TV show Hullaballoo (which featured Petula Clark hosting).
Truth is the song was not as horribly awful as I remembered, but in the process I found this great Smothers Brothers clip that seems so perfect as we anticipate the Donald Trump/Ben Carson/Carly Fiorina Show/debate later tonight.
This is the Brothers at their political core and best, but Harrison is really pretty good, and all this reminded me that Rex Harrison’s progeny was also on the TV series The Girl From U.N.C.L.E..
Anyway, the “I told you so superior thoughts” that went with the sarcasm I planned for A Young Girl sort of dissipated and this is what you get.
For the archivists, here is the hit, that now reminds me of the great 1985 film by Agnes Varda, Vagabond.
I cannot same that I am as crazy about Roxy as my mate Gene, but I do indeed love them, their sound, and a shitload of their songs.
I have my loves–Out of the Blue, Virginia Plain, and All I want is You–but Prarie Rose has something to it that pushes beyond being just a favorite Roxy tune.
Aside from being just a wonderful piece of music and lyric, their are links to both Talking Heads (The Big Country) and Big Country’s In a Big Country, that line being core to Roxy first.
Here are the Heads, live in a song that sort of has that great feel between driving and laid back thanks to great drumming laying down that fantastic groove.
Here is Roxy from a few years back, and though the hand held IPhone camera is way shaky, the audio is pretty good, and Phil Manzanera just fucking kills his solo even if we cannot really see him (check the video behind Ferry and I think that is a simulcast?)
Stuart Adamson’s fine Big Country band will be saved for another day!
I was stumbling around the television channels on Friday, in search of something funny or challenging, or even both.
As documented here before, I am a big fan of the Cartoon Network’s night time adult diversion, Adult Swim, which presents the most cutting edge/satire/intelligence of any station anywhere.
One show I love on Adult Swim is “Squidbillies,” which features the incorrigible Early Cuyler, a red neck squid who lives with his son, Rusty, Grandma, and sister Lil in the Appalachians where he makes meth and white lightening from pine cones while the family purports to supply “peanuts and hairdoos.”
It is pretty irreverent and good fun (if you watch, check the different hats Early wears).
Well, Squidbillies has a pretty good alt country theme song, and lo and behold, when I watched Friday, I heard Lucinda Williams singing the theme.
So, here is that:
But, in search of Lucinda on YouTube, I found this great little jam that features Hayes Carll, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Unknown Hinson, Rhett Miller, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, David Rawlings, Todd Snider, Gillian Welch and Lucinda Williams and that was also on one episode.
If that wasn’t enough, I then found “A Night at the Opera” on TCM, , and though I have seen it a lot (I am sure more than 50 times) it still kills me (all their movies do).
But, I thought this great clip of Chico (and his very long fingers) doing his nominal piano thing made it more than worth presenting his rendition of “All I do is Dream of You.”
I have not meant to be neglecting writing here, but truly, the last six weeks have been among the busiest of my life, with travels to Southern California, New York, the Sierra, and now Chicago.
But, it doesn’t mean I have not been thinking about what to post here.
I have indeed been peppering a lot of golf in my daily mix of stuff, no matter where I am, but especially when home and in my car, I have been enjoying listening to spacier, more reflective rock, just because it sort of seems to relax me for the mental challenge of whether to use a driver or a three-wood on a particular hole.
As part of this troll, El Dorado, Electric Light Orchestra’s really great album from 1973 has made the mix. When the album came out, it quickly shot to my favorite list, where the disc remained until the late 70’s when punk took over everything rock and roll for me in the best possible way.
I listened to El Dorado here and there to see if any magic remained but it was sort of like watching Gone with the Wind and its outdated and hopelessly romantic view of the South, racism, and slavery. As in, it just didn’t do it.
I don’t really know what prompted me to reclaim El Dorado out of the huge stack of CD’s I have, but I found myself first sticking the disc into the player, and then humming along to songs I really did know by heart.
So, I really did rediscover the whole thing in a good way.
Now, I get if the strings Jeff Lynne stuck into his band are not your cup of tea, and, well, if you watch the video, I am not sure if we will ever get over the hair and clothes from the 70’s (I doubt I ever wore any of that shit, being a devotee of jeans and tennis shoes pretty much my whole life, but it does sort of hurt to look) but, make no mistake, Lynne is a rocker at heart.
We all know his treatment of Chuck Berry’s Roll Over Beethoven and I think the Move’s original Do Ya is as killer a cut as exists.
But, this little ditty from El Dorado, Illusions in G Major, does indeed show Lynne’s roots are indeed with the Chuckster. Strings or not, they kill it.
My friend Michele Friedman and I have been searching for some interesting music to see live for a while now. I tried to get us tix to the Replacements tour but got aced out; however when I saw Television was going to be playing the Fillmore, I knew she, and our friends Leslie and Lisa would be down.
I was right, and last Tuesday we crossed the bridge and saw Tom Verlaine and his crew deliver a sonically beautiful set, pulled largely from their best known piece, Marquee Moon.
Truth is the band was lots better than I imagined, with very clear guitars ringing through Vox AC30s (not that I imagined them being bad, they just completely exceeded expectations).
It was good to see Verlaine and company: none of us had ever seen them before though I was a tad bummed they played very little from the second album, Adventure which includes my favorite song from the group, Glory.
I know Joni has caused a lot of buzz on the site, but aside from the fact that I love this cut from Heijara, I have been wanting to write for weeks about my concern for Mitchell, who has been hospitalized for months due to an unspecified illness (it was rumored to be a stroke, and Joni was similarly said to be in a coma, but the latter information is untrue per her official web site).
But, the other day, our Remnants mate Peter lost his father, and well, I figured I would post this both just to keep Joni–an exceptional artist and creative force–in our thoughts, as well as Peter and his father.
I think that it is all I can possibly say, because the song and Joni really do it better. Just close your eyes and listen. And, that is Pat Methany on guitar, and the late and equally wonderful Jaco Pastouris on bass.
I never seem to be able to watch the entire Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductions all in one shot. The broadcasts, on HBO, usually run about four hours, and my body has a muscle memory chip to fall asleep anytime I watch TV for more than 90 minutes at a stretch.
I did catch the end, though, the other day, and there was a lovely induction speech for Lou Reed by Patti Smith, and then an equally lovely acceptance by Lori Anderson, and then the live tribute, which began with Beck leading the performance of Satellite of Love.
I must admit that though I love Reed and the song, that my first thoughts of the title go to the wonderful late 80’s-early 90’s TV show, Mystery Science Theater (MST). MST’s premise was a shlubby janitor (Joel Hodgson) gets zapped into space and is forced to watch crappy movies and the results can be registered. If you check the Wiki link, you will see more, but Joel named the ship on which he was marooned “The Satellite of Love,” in an obvious homage to Reed.
So, you get goofy clip, and now a pretty joyful version of the source. Miss you Lou!
