Once again a significant figure in the pop music world has passed to another plane, this time in the form of Maurice White, leader, songwriter, and force behind the dynamic Earth, Wind, and Fire.
My first real job out of college was spent as a social worker for the Housing Authority of the City of Oakland. That meant managing public housing units, and that meant my day was indeed spent on some of the city’s tougher ghettos.
I did always get on just fine in such circumstances, and though I was indeed into 801, Springsteen, and then punk when it arrived, I never backed away from soul, starting from the earliest days of Motown.
EWF, or “the elements” as my cool work mates referred to the group, were certainly a band at the time I really did like, but I probably would not have been exposed to White and crew in the same way had I not held my job.
But, my workmates turned me onto their Way of the World album, that featured the great Shining Star. And, though Shining Star is a killer cut, I chose the title track as my tribute to White, who passed this morning after suffering from Parkinson’s Disease at 74.
Way of the World is a love song that indeed features White’s strong melody and lyrical skills, his band at full skill, and this particular cut has a killer guitar solo, something we all love.
EWF are still the elements, and White is eternal. Sigh.
Paul Kantner, who evolved as the driving force behind first Jefferson Airplane, and subsequently Jefferson Starship (not The Starship, mind you) has passed away at the age of 74.
It is hard for me to believe that almost six years ago I posted this piece right here on the Remnants as I declared the Airplane the best rock band of the San Francisco psychedelic era. That article was on the passing of drummer Joey Covington, and sadly, now it is Kantner.
It is cool that Peter already published Have You Seen the Stars Tonight?, for that was the first song I thought of posting for Kantner, but there are certainly a zillion more I love.
I was lucky enough to live in the Bay Area during the heyday of the SF bands, so I got to see the Airplane more than a few times, even at Winterland, with the Dead, Big Brother, and Quicksilver. Good as those other bands were, the Airplane were easily my fave.
For starters, this clip of Crown of Creation, from The Smothers Brothers Show in 1968, is emblematic of the band–which did feature three singers unlike most bands at the time–in their flower power heyday. (Note that Paul plays a Rickenbacker!)
It was largely Kantner’s vision that pushed the band through five great studio albums along with a killer live one before the metamorphosis into Jefferson Starship,
Kantner was soft-spoken, but equally outspoken with respect to the causes of the left, but he was ultimately a musician and artist whose band left a significant body of great work.
Like this fantastic treatment of the traditional song, Good Shepherd from Volunteers, performed at the Fillmore East in 1969.
But, my favorite moment of Kantner occurred in 1981, when U2 first was gaining a buzz. I went to see the up-and-coming Irish band, and who should be sitting behind me at a little table, all by his lonesome, but Paul Kantner?
I will leave with two treatments of Fred Neil’s The Other Side of this Life. This first is the band, interrupted during play at the infamous Altamont gig in which Kantner, clearly the leader of the band confronts Hell’s Angel Ralph “Sonny” Barger.
But, this second treatment, from the wonderful live Bless Its Pointed Little Head just fucking smokes.
I will see the stars tonight Paul, and will see you among them.
Jefferson Airplane were a giant San Francisco band, and Paul Kantner had a lot to do with that, but when I just read that he’d died today, I thought of this song.
It’s from an album by Paul Kantner, branded as Jefferson Starship called Blows Against the Empire. As an idealist 17 year old with a bent to sci fi it hit pretty much every beat in my book. Well, except for the rock one.
But the album has it’s rock-ish moments, too.
But the song I like best is the folkiest, written by Rosalie Sorrells.
In any case, Paul Kantner was a nexus for all the psychedelic San Francisco musicians, who collaborated on this album, and many other projects, that were made as art and agitprop rather than commerce. Blows Against the Empire is the one project of his that captured me. You can hear the whole thing here.
He did not have anything to do with We Built This City. RIP.
There’s a lot of dying going on, but this afternoon I read a story in yesterday’s NY Times about a singer songwriter I’d not heard of. Brett Smiley had the aim back in the day to be a similarly big star in the glam rock world as David Bowie, and coincidentally died two days before Bowie, at age 60.
Josh Max became friendly with Smiley in Central Park in the 80s. They played guitars together, critiqued each others songs, but it wasn’t until Max looked Smiley up on the internet after his death that he learned the whole story, which involves Andrew Loog Oldham, a scrapped 1974 album that wasn’t released until 30 years later, oh, and the drugs. But Max does a convincing job introducing Smiley as a genuine nice guy whose story is certainly sad but maybe not exactly tragic.
Loog Oldham recorded that original album, but after the release of the first single (Space Age b/w Va-va-va Voom), he pulled the record. It wasn’t put out until 2004. The reason?
Max writes: “I just refused to let them release the album,” Mr. Oldham said. “I knew it would be a disaster, and we’d already had one — the 45 r.p.m. release of ‘Space Ace,’ ” a song from the record.
Wow, things are getting tight for the rockers of our youth, for now Eagles guitarist Glenn Frey has passed away today at the age of 67, apparently from multiple illnesses.
Again, I was slow to come to the Eagles although I remember an ex-girlfriend, Cindy Graham, playing Already Gone for me the first time in 1976 saying how much it was my kind of song.
Cindy was right and that started my interest in the band that did indeed grow to some pretty good respect.
Frey was core to the band along with Don Henley, Bernie Leadon, Randy Meissner, and later Timothy B. Schmidt (a great bass player) along with the great Joe Walsh. Say what you will: these guys could play.
I am sure there will be more words to come, so I will keep this short and just give you the song with thoughts of Glenn as he changes planes.
Like many, I was not open to David Bowie when he appeared in my circle in 1974 or thereabouts.
In fairness to Bowie, when I first saw a picture of the Stones, I remember at the age of 12 thinking the band was going just a little too far with the hair and clothing, and later, when I first heard of Johnny and the Sex Pistols, again, I thought it was a joke. Needless to say, both bands became all time favorites.
But, going into my senior year at college I had the lucky fortune to live in a house with three women (sigh, those were the days), one of whom, Evie Gandleman (at the time, not sure if she got married and changed her name), and her boyfriend, Rebel (see why it was hard to take seriously?) were nutso for Bowie, calling him the “man of the future.”
It was embarrassing to see them go into the chant of the ever circling skeletal family, seeming more like Moonies than rockers.
However, the album they chanted–Diamond Dogs— contained the fantastic song Rebel Rebel, a tune I could not deny then, and still dig, and eventually Bowie won me over (if Evie and Rebel are still together, are they now One Direction fans?).
As a result, I saw Bowie twice, once in the late 70’s on the Low tour, and again 20 years later when Bowie toured with Trent Reznor and his band Nine Inch Nails.
The Low show was great, it being my favorite period of Bowie’s, and the NIN one so interesting as there was no formal set change. NIN started the show, and seven or eight songs in, one-by-one, a member of Reznor’s band would leave the stage and a member of Bowie’s replaced him.
This went on till Reznor was the only member of his band, at which point Bowie came on and they did a song together.
I saw that NIN/Bowie show with my late pal, Cathy, whom I had been dating for about three months and I will never forget Reznor kicking into the song Closer, snaking my fingers through Cathy’s, and saying, “This is our song” (I got a squeeze back). So, well, I have to drop that video in just because (if you don’t know the song, listen to the words and think that Cathy was, in some ways, a very shy and modest woman).
Back to Bowie, aside from a long and interesting and influential career of great songs, it is because of Bowie that I got to know Mick Ronson who is one of my three all time favorite guitar players (Bill Frisell and Richard Thompson being the others).
Like many other great artists, part of what made Bowie great was his desire to change paths along with his art and try to go somewhere new. And, being more of a rocker than anything, it is why Ziggy Stardust and Tin Machine are among my favorite albums by the artist (with Low and Diamond Dogs) while his more dance-based projects (Dancin’ In the Streets, Young Americans) ranked lower on my love list.
I think the real power of Bowie, though, is in that word, his name. For, he is iconic enough to be regarded by just one, like Dylan and Cher (sorry, but she is huge). Which is kind of a big deal.
I had planned on finding some choice Bowie tune to drop here, but there have been plenty in the previous posts. Plus, while looking for a song, I stumbled onto this fabulous interview with Mick Ronson, who explains (sort of) his band’s guitar sound, and then demonstrates. It’s awesome, and for sure you get both late great artists, Bowie and Ronson.
I saw Christiane F. when it came out, more than 30 years ago, but I so remember the clever and compelling way it wrapped its lurid sad story around a David Bowie concert in Berlin in the late 70s. Here’s a clip:
Blackstar, David Bowie’s latest album, came out last week. I’d read the warm, enthusiastic reviews but only sampled small pieces before word came this morning that he’d passed on. I was waiting until I found the whole album, Google Music didn’t have it, but it turns out YouTube did. We’ve written about many Bowie songs and projects here over the years. This cut is a worthy piece of ambitious and pleasurable music suffused with the mythmaking heart found in everything David Bowie created. A look backward into a dark future without him (but with his art) that starts today.
Sad that it took Lemmy’s death to bring me back here and give him a proper burial. (And to spice up this site – no, I’m not listening to that Joni Mitchell.)
Things:
1) Peter contributed an interesting post on Lemmy’s failing health and subsequent cancellation of some shows not very long ago. I’m not looking for it and linking it.
2) Motorhead’s almost-original, most memorable drummer Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor died recently too. I didn’t even know that. (He’s on Ace Of Spades and in this video.)
3) The Lemmy rock doc is a must-see, as I’ve mentioned here before. Now you owe it to him to see it.
4) I think Gene likes Hawkwind. Maybe he wants to cover that angle of Lemmy.
5) For as much as I’d like to say I’m a huge Motorhead fan, I’m not, really. Ace Of Spades is essential, but, as much as I hate to say it, that’s all you really need. I’ve tried later Motorhead albums and nothing touched AOS for my money. If I’m dead-wrong on this, please advise. Some of their later cover songs are quite cool. I never saw them live either.
I considered being cute with the musical selection, but it just wouldn’t be right:
