Now that the presidential election is over, I’ll be stepping back from the news and tuning into other things on TV — probably more sports and binge-watching some series. Before I started a heavy travel schedule in mid-September, I began rewatching The West Wing from the beginning. I wish Jed Bartlet were really running for president. Now that was a man of character!
One of my favorite scenes is from Season 1, Episode 18, “Six Meetings Before Lunch.” In this episode, the White House staff successfully confirms their first Supreme Court nominee, Justice Roberto Mendoza. The team throws an impromptu celebration party, and they coax C.J. Cregg (Allison Janney) to perform her iconic lip-sync routine to “The Jackal.”
“The Jackal” is a track by British guitarist Ronny Jordan, released in 1993. The Grammy-nominated Jordan was known for his style of music, often called “urban jazz” or “acid jazz.”
The track features a spoken-word vocal by Dana Bryant, telling the story of a streetwise ladies’ man, with heavy use of ‘70s street slang:
Fly boy was in the buttermilk, hard, livin’ fast, livin’ large, 6 foot 4 and not an ounce of fat!
When women asked, ‘is you a Cat?’ He said ‘I did more that that.
I’m the froest of the fro
And in case you hadn’t known, they call me ‘The Jackal’.
Jordan passed away at the young age of 51 in 2014, leaving behind a legacy in jazz that’s still celebrated by fans today.
Guest contributor Jim Iacoponi wrote today’s SotW. Jim is a tie-dyed-in-the-wool fan of the Grateful Dead. He attended over 50 Grateful Dead concerts before Jerry Garcia died in 1995 and has seen countless more shows in the various group configurations since. Besides being a Dead Head, Jim is a talented engineer, an artistic ceramist, and an exceptional pizzaiolo! TM
On Friday, October 25th, the music world lost a deeply loved and most talented musician, the Bay Area’s own Phil Lesh. He was 84.
A founding member of the Grateful Dead, Phil was rarely in the spotlight when the band performed its 2,284 concerts from 1965 through 2015, leaving that largely to Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir. Back in the day, “let Phil sing” was often shouted out by fans. He rarely did.
Of the 484 songs (original and cover) that the Dead performed over the years only 4 were penned by Phil. Yet it was his bass that drove the band, its pace, and strength, and his deep musical connection with Jerry that bent each show to the heights and breadth of where jams could go. If Jerry was the explorer and Bob the storyteller, Phil was the bedrock from which the group launched its trips.
In the early ‘70s my high school friend Peter had the first (and best) car cassette player I’d ever seen with 30 watts per channel and two 8-inch speakers in his Impala. Peter had hours of live Dead shows: Carousel Ballroom, Winterland, Eugene, Cow Palace. We cruised a lot! And there I first met Phil.
The Dead’s 2nd sets were known for their spacey jams, moving from one song to the next with epic wandering and reconnection. They captured their and the crowds’ moment, hitting that ‘high point’ for the evening. No two sets were alike. “The Other One” was a 2nd set fan favorite. Phil’s bass opens it with a riff all Heads know and continues to pulse and push, as Bob’s voice tells a tale of a trip on a bus driven by Cowboy Neal (Cassady, of Merry Pranksters fame) to Nevereverland.
Those magical bootleg tapes and Phil’s bass hooked me for life.
The well-known song “Truckin’” always got fans back up on their feet after a slower ballad and with Jerry, Phil’s bass jumpstarts the tune and carries the rhythm through to the end. “Truckin’s” lyric traces the band on a US tour with stops in cities out East and commentary on a few:
On January 30, 1970, the Dead’s hotel in New Orleans was raided and the band was busted on marijuana charges:
…Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street
Chicago, New York, Detroit and it’s all on the same street
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings
Dallas, got a soft machine
Houston, too close to New Orleans
New York got the ways and means
But just won’t let you be…
Sittin’ and starin’ out of the hotel window
Got a tip they’re gonna kick the door in again
I’d like to get some sleep before I travel
But if you got a warrant, I guess you’re gonna come in
Busted, down on Bourbon Street
Set up, like a bowlin’ pin
Knocked down
It get’s to wearin’ thin
They just won’t let you be…
In classic Phil fashion, his bass tees up the song’s beloved refrain. Even today at shows by all of the bands that celebrate the Dead’s music, his driving riff is memorialized, and the crowd responds, singing at the top of the top of their lungs:
…Sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me
What a long, strange trip it’s been…
Phil and Dead lyricist Robert Hunter wrote what I think is one of the most poignant of the Dead’s songs, “Box Of Rain.” Phil was coming to terms with his father’s succumbing to cancer, thinking about the past, wondering about the future, and how to bring peace and comfort in such distress:
…Look out of any window
Any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
Birds are winging or rain is falling from a heavy sky
What do you want me to do
To do for you to see you through?
For this is all a dream we dreamed
One afternoon long ago…
The singer offers a ‘box of rain’ as a way to bring solace, and love to lighten the load:
…What do you want me to do
To do for you to see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain
And love will see you through…
And while he didn’t sing lead often, Phil’s uneven voice carried the audience through “Box of Rain,” offering its closing lyrics with depth and personal tenderness:
…And it’s just a box of rain
I don’t know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
Or leave it if you dare
And it’s just a box of rain
Or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long, long time to be gone
And a short time to be there.
“Box of Rain” was the last song in the encore of the Dead’s last show (at Soldier Field) in 1995, before Jerry died.
Almost two years ago my family committed our Dad’s ashes to the Pacific under the Golden Gate Bridge in a beautiful ceremony of remembrance, kinship, and closure. I chose to say “see you around” to Dad by playing the Dead’s “Brokedown Palace” on the boat that day.
While not one of Phil’s four songs, it lives because Phil did. The song ends:
..Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
It is indeed a fitting farewell to the life-long friend of that tie-dyed tribe Phil helped guide for nearly six decades.
Thank you, Phil. For Deadheads and music fans everywhere, you’ll live on because the music you made for all those years will always live on. What a long, strange trip indeed!
Today’s post is the next episode of my “Contrast” series. The subject is the use of the phrase “wrecking ball” as a metaphor.
The concept of a “wrecking ball” has inspired numerous musicians across different genres, each bringing their unique style and interpretation to the metaphor. This post will compare and contrast “Wrecking Ball” by Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch, Ryan Adams, Bruce Springsteen, Joe Walsh, and Miley Cyrus, focusing on lyrical themes, musical style, and emotional impact.
The first song I heard using “wrecking ball” was on Neil Young’s Freedom (1989) album. Emmylou Harris’s cover of “Wrecking Ball,” from her 1995 Grammy Award-winning album of the same name, produced by Daniel Lanois, presents a haunting and ethereal sound. The song features lush, atmospheric production, blending elements of country, folk, and rock.
Young’s lyrics, as sung by Harris, convey a sense of longing and introspection, as she sings about love and loss with a poignant, almost spiritual quality. The song’s slow tempo and Harris’s emotive vocals create a melancholic yet beautiful listening experience. Young’s wrecking ball refers to the place where he will meet his love interest. It’s a play on the use of the word “ball” as a dance.
Gillian Welch’s “Wrecking Ball,” from her critically acclaimed 2003 album Soul Journey, offers a more stripped-down, acoustic approach.
Welch’s song stays true to her Americana and folk roots, featuring simple guitar and banjo accompaniment. The lyrics depict a narrative of resilience and determination in the face of adversity. Welch’s warm, earthy voice delivers the story of her self-destructive behavior as a young woman with a sense of intimacy and raw emotion, making it a personal and reflective song.
I was just a little Deadhead A fallen daughter on a scholarship I got tired and let my average slip
Then I was a farmer in the Pogonip Where the weed that I recall Was like a wrecking ball
Ryan Adams’s eponymous 14th album became known to his fans as Self-Titled (2014). I saw him perform solo at The Guild, in Menlo Park, where he played the full album, in order, to celebrate its 10th anniversary. A standout was “My Wrecking Ball.”
Ryan Adams’s “My Wrecking Ball,” combines elements of rock and folk. The song is characterized by its melancholic melody and introspective lyrics, reflecting on themes of heartbreak and emotional turmoil. Adams’s plaintive vocals and the song’s sparse arrangement create a sense of vulnerability and desolation, making it a poignant exploration of personal struggle.
I interpret Adams’s use of the phrase “wrecking ball” as a substitute for the idiom “knock me off my feet.”
Driving through the streets tonight It’s hard I got the windows down I wish I could call you I wish you were still around Nothing much left in the tank Somehow this thing still drives You forgot what it needed But somehow still survives And all the walls we built they must come down Hey, you’re my wrecking ball Won’t you come and maybe knock me down
Bruce Springsteen’s 17th studio album was titled Wrecking Ball. The title song was originally released as a live single in 2009, but later ended up in a studio version on the 2012 album release.
Bruce Springsteen’s “Wrecking Ball,” takes on a more socio-political angle. The song serves as an anthem of resilience and defiance, addressing the struggles of the working class and the challenges faced by modern America. Springsteen’s rock-influenced sound, combined with his powerful lyrics and energetic delivery, creates an uplifting and motivational atmosphere. The song’s chorus, with its call to “bring on your wrecking ball,” embodies a spirit of resistance and determination.
I was raised out of steel here in the swamps of Jersey, some misty years ago Through the mud and the beer, and the blood and the cheers, I’ve seen champions come and go So if you got the guts mister, yeah, if you got the balls If you think it’s your time, then step to the line, and bring on your wrecking ball
Bring on your wrecking ball Bring on your wrecking ball Come on and take your best shot, let me see what you got Bring on your wrecking ball
Joe Walsh released his album Analog Man (2012) with the help of Jeff Lynne. It also has a song called “Wrecking Ball” that was co-written with country artist Tommy Lee James.
Joe Walsh’s “Wrecking Ball,” infuses his signature classic rock style with a bluesy edge. The song features Walsh’s distinctive guitar work and a driving rhythm, creating a dynamic and energetic sound. Lyrically, Walsh uses the wrecking ball metaphor to address themes of change and upheaval, both personal and societal. It is a call to live your life with fearless, reckless abandon. His gritty vocals and the song’s robust instrumentation make it a powerful and anthemic track.
Live your life like a wrecking ball Just get carried away And then you bounce back from another close call Live your life like a wrecking ball
In 2013, pop star Miley Cyrus dropped a single called “Wrecking Ball” that soared all the way to #1 on the Billboard Hot 100. In fact, it reached #1 twice, with a nine-week gap between its runs to the top.
Miley Cyrus’s “Wrecking Ball,” is arguably the most commercially successful and widely recognized of the songs listed. This pop ballad, produced by Dr. Luke and Cirkut, features a blend of emotional vulnerability and powerful vocal delivery. The lyrics discuss the pain and devastation of a broken relationship, with the wrecking ball metaphor symbolizing the destructive force of love. Cyrus’s passionate performance and the song’s catchy, dramatic chorus have made it a standout hit in her career.
I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me I came in like a wrecking ball Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung Left me crashing in a blazing fall All you ever did was wreck me Yeah, you, you wreck me
The diverse interpretations of “Wrecking Ball” by Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch, Ryan Adams, Bruce Springsteen, Joe Walsh, and Miley Cyrus highlight the versatility of the metaphor and its ability to convey a wide range of emotions and themes. From personal heartbreak to societal defiance, each artist brings their unique perspective and style to the concept, creating distinct and memorable musical experiences.
I recently learned that alto sax player David Sanborn died on May 12th. In tribute to his artistry, I’d like to post a SotW essay I originally published on July 5th, 2008.
Sometimes a song immediately transports you back to a certain time and/or place. When it comes on, you can remember every detail of some moment in your life when it was playing.
This week’s song is that way for me. It is called “The Finer Things” and is credited to saxophonist David Sanborn. But it was written by Donald Fagen and is performed by the usual Steely Dan cast of characters (that also included Sanborn), so it sounds to me more like The Dan than Sanborn’s usual smooth jazz.
It comes from the soundtrack to Martin Scorsese’s black comedy, The King of Comedy. Incidentally, that soundtrack also includes out takes and special one off recordings by several other top notch artists such as Robbie Robertson, Van Morrison and Rickie Lee Jones. It’s worth picking up.
But let’s get back to my visceral connection to this song… Back in the early 80s I spent a few 4ths of July at the beach in Ogunquit, ME. At the end of one long day of tanning in the sun, it seemed like the whole beach decided they’d had enough at the same time. As the exodus of beach goers packed up and started walking back to their cars, bars or motel rooms, I popped a cassette tape of this song into a boom box I was carrying. The song (more or less an instrumental) seemed to perfectly capture the mood of the moment. As we walked along, a couple of different strangers even tapped me on the shoulder to ask what was playing.
Every time I hear this song I “feel” the heat of the sun in my tanned skin. I “see” the tired crowd of people dragging their coolers and beach chairs toward town. I can “smell” the salt water and sun tan lotion. (Remember Bumble? Debbie?)
Obviously, this song won’t have the same meaning for you, but if you like Steely Dan (and who doesn’t?) I know you’ll enjoy this selection.
My wife is reading Gold Dust Woman: The Biography of Stevie Nicks (2017), by Stephen Davis. She occasionally reads a section to me that she finds to be particularly interesting. I will have to read it myself when she finishes.
So to celebrate Stevie, I’ll make today’s SotW a Nicks’ obscurity – a cover of the Atlanta Rhythm Section’s “Imaginary Lover.”
April Fools!
This recording is actually the Atlanta Rhythm Section played at a higher speed. But you have to admit… it really sounds like Nicks!
The legend is that back in 1978, when both Fleetwood Mac and ARS were at the top of their games, a radio DJ accidentally played “Imaginary Lover” at 45 rpm rather than 33 1/3 and was amazed at how much it sounded like Nicks.
A Rolling Stone article by Cameron Crowe reported:
News quickly reached Nicks in Los Angeles. She rushed out to buy the record and played it at the wrong speed. “I got chills,” says Stevie. “It sounds exactly like something I’d sing, the way I’d sing it. I even played it for Christine [McVie], mixed in with some other demos for thenew album. She complimented me on it.”
Out of respect for the ARS, here’s their original, played at the proper speed.
Think of the fun we’re missing out on, now that radio stations only play digital recordings!
Today’s SotW has very little actual music. Instead, it brings some levity to the holiday with a few bits of ‘70s stoner Christmas comedy. Who even knew that was a thing!?!
Let’s start with my favorite comedy troupe of all time, The Firesign Theatre.
Only the Firesign would use a Christmas hymn (The First Noel) as a vehicle for their absurdist humor.
“Toad Away” was the lead track from Dear Friends (1972). Dear Friends was a compilation of routines that the Firesign recorded from the radio show they had on KPFK in Los Angeles, from September 1970 to February 1971.
Who better represents ‘70s stoner humor than Cheech & Chong? Their first release on a single was their holiday bit, “Santa Claus and His Old Lady” (1971).
Aside from the politically incorrect references to Santa’s wife as his “old lady” and the elves as midgets, this is still a pretty entertaining story. The part where Santa gets held up at the border shows that things haven’t changed much in 50 years.
I first discovered “Santa Doesn’t Cop Out on Dope” (1972) on the Warner Brothers Loss Leader album All Singing – All Talking – All Rocking (1975). Do you remember those terrific samplers?
“Santa Doesn’t Cop Out…” is typical snarky Martin Mull humor. It was later covered by Sonic Youth for the Christmas compilation Just Say Noel (1976).
Now I’m primed to hit the spiked eggnog. Merry Christmas!
For the second time this week, I’m posting an extra SotW. This time it is to pay tribute to Savoy Brown guitarist Kim Simmonds. He died on December 13th at the age of 75. His full obituary can be read here:
I believe Simmonds was one of the most underrated (or at least unheralded) rock guitarists ever. So check out this SotW post I originally published on March 21, 2009.
In 1975 my college roommate, Dabinsky, recorded this cool radio broadcast of a Savoy Brown concert on this little, high quality cassette deck he owned (was it a Wollensak?). “Back in the day” that was the primary vehicle for collecting and sharing bootleg recordings. We played that tape an awful lot. The broadcast was eventually “officially” released in 1998 as an album called Live at the Record Plant. The highlight of that tape, for me, was the number “Hero to Zero” – the song of the week. I’ve attached the studio version from the album Wire Fire.
Savoy Brown was a blues based rock band led by the (sadly) under recognized lead guitarist Kim Simmonds. Savoy Brown had several albums that charted in the U.S., including Raw Sienna (1969), Looking In (great cover, [looking in cover] 1970), Street Corner Talking (1971) and Hellbound Train (1972).
If you like blues based rock guitar, you’re really going to like this one.
In tribute to Danelli I’m reposting a SotW I first published on June 21, 2008.
In the mid 60s, The (Young) Rascals epitomized the genre that was to become known as “blue-eyed soul.” Naturally, we associate them with a slew of Top 40 hits beginning with “Good Lovin’” and running through “Love Is A Beautiful Thing”, “Lonely Too Long”, “A Girl Like You,” “How Can I Be Sure” and their #1 summer smash, “Groovin’”. Most of these also made the R&B charts.
But few are familiar with some of the garage/psych cuts buried deep in their albums. This weeks’ song, “Find Somebody”, is from their 1967 album Groovin’. Check out the fuzztone guitars, Eastern influenced chords (all the rage in the “Summer of Love”) and exploitation of the early stereo “ping pong” gimmick (listen on headphones).
In May of 2020, I started a series of posts under the theme of Rock Music in Films. I notched eight posts in the series through May 2021. But the series isn’t complete. I have a few more ideas and today I resume after nine months – this time featuring films as vehicles for rock stars.
This idea was “invented” by Elvis Presley. The Beatles and other British Invasion groups took advantage of the medium to enhance their popularity. But those were all covered in earlier installments of the series.
Take note – my idea of films as vehicles for rock stars doesn’t include movies that simply star rock musicians. The film has to feature their music as a key component. So, Madonna’s Desperately Seeking Susan and David Bowie’s Labyrinth are out. Bob Dylan’s music was critical to Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid, but his acting role was too insignificant to qualify as a vehicle for him. That one’s out. Mick Jagger starred in Performance and sang the excellent “Memo From Turner” but that’s his only song on the soundtrack. Out.
So, what films do meet my criteria? One great example is The Harder They Come (1972), starring Jimmy Cliff. I know, this film features Reggae music not rock. But by my definition, Cliff is a rock star!
The title tune is terrific, but the best song on the soundtrack is “Many Rivers to Cross.”
“MRtC” has a gospel feel and an amazing vocal performance. It is even more spectacular when you consider the legend that it was recorded in one take at the end of a session where the backing musicians had never heard the song before! In Wikipedia, Cliff is quoted as saying “I started singing, the band came in, and that was it. Once. That was it.”
Another super film that was a vehicle for a rock star was Prince’s Purple Rain (1984). I know, this film features funk and R&B music, not rock. But by my definition, Prince is a rock star!
The title tune is terrific, but the best song on the soundtrack is “When Doves Cry.”
“WDC” was written as a metaphor (doves being the bird of peace) for the dysfunction in relationships – in this case, the discord between his mother and father coming full circle in his own relationship.
How can you just leave me standing Alone in a world that’s so cold? (So cold) Maybe I’m just too demanding Maybe I’m just like my father, too bold Maybe you’re just like my mother She’s never satisfied (she’s never satisfied) Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like When doves cry
“WDC” received a wonderful cover by Patti Smith. You can’t keep a great song down.
The underappreciated One Trick Pony (1980), by Paul Simon, was also a film vehicle for a rock star. I know, many of you don’t consider Paul Simon a rock musician. But by my definition, he is a rock star!
The key song on the soundtrack is “Late in the Evening.”
Steve Gadd’s drum groove and the spicy Cuban horn charts (arranged by Dave Grusin) drive it. No one would dare cover it!
Atlanta Rhythm Section (also known as ARS) was formed in 1971. The band was formed by combining members of The Candymen (sometimes backing group for Roy Orbison) and Classics IV (whose hits included “Spooky”, “Stormy”, “Traces”). They served as the session band for Studio One in Doraville, GA. They had substantial success in the ‘70s when their brand of Southern Rock was in vogue.
The band’s first five albums – ending with Red Tape (1976) – were not very successful, except with a loyal group of fans that followed the band in concert. Then 1976’s A Rock and Roll Alternative changed everything. It included the Top 10 hit “So in to You” and was given five stars in the first edition of the Rolling Stone Record Guide (1979). Champagne Jam (1978) followed and offered another Top 10 with “Imaginary Lover.”
ARS toured extensively and was a very successful live act. They released an album to document their live prowess called Are You Ready! (1979). It included a 15 minute version of the concert favorite “Another Man’s Woman”, the third time they released the song on an album. The first was on their debut release – a five minute track on the eponymous Atlanta Rhythm Section (1973). To me, the definitive recording is the closing cut on Red Tape (1976). Coming in at about 10 minutes, it is tighter and has more energy than the live take, but still leaves room to show off the band’s soloing skills. It is ARS’s “Free Bird.”
