A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away lived a kid who hadn’t a care in the world. In the small Indiana town he called home, he had a ton of friends and spent his summers riding bikes around the neighborhood, building makeshift ramps out of scrap pieces of wood, and giving the stay-at-home moms (of which there were many in those days) around the neighborhood minor heart attacks with stunts that would give Evel Knievel pause.

Then one day his own mother told him the grandfather he loved more than anything was dying of leukemia. The family would move to Michigan as his dad had agreed to step in and run the auto parts stores his grandfather had turned into a thriving business.

His first day of school in Michigan would set the tone for the remainder of his childhood. One of the kids took him aside and told him that if anyone tried to beat him up, he’d protect him. Why anyone would beat him up was such a foreign concept. Back in Indiana, there’d been no cliques, no bullies, and no reason to need one of the bigger kids to protect him.

Unable to reconcile such idiocy in his mind, he retreated into his own world and found solace in the music that blasted from his stereo. It became his most trusted friend when others failed him. It understood him when others couldn’t be bothered to try. When his grandfather passed away - having beaten the cancer, but being too weak to stave off the pneumonia that followed – he lost the one human who never judged him harshly, who’d always believed in his every dream as if it were his own. This was a man who’d been told by a teacher that he’d never amount to anything. Years later, after having become a successful business owner, he was visited by this same teacher, who’d come into the store for the express purpose of saying he was wrong. The kid always remembered this when someone told him that he too would never amount to anything. (more…)

When I was a kid, my heroes were, at the very least, deserving of adoration. The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Cheap Trick, Dan Pastorini (the one non-musician of the bunch) — the one thing they had in common was that they were immensely talented at what they did. Some would say that they were among the very best, and thus, they seemed bigger than life to me and the millions who adored them. I was inspired by them and what I perceived to be their dedication to the craft. I also admired their shrewd understanding that a fair bit of marketing went a long way, too.

Of course, the music world is not just full of legendary artists such as those named above. For as long as there have been artistes, there have been those whose marketing overshadowed their artistic endeavors. I’m thinking along the lines of C.W. McCall, Taco, and — oh, what the heck — Sigue Sigue Sputnik.

Such one-hit wonders would invariably come out of nowhere, dominate the airwaves for every last second of their fifteen minutes of fame and then, thankfully, disappear into pop oblivion. The respectable artists who were temporarily swept aside to make way for this brief dalliance with the latest “here today, gone tomorrow” pop confection would then return to their rightful place on radio playlists and the ship would right itself.

I mean, acts like Tiffany, Sly Fox, After the Fire, and others had their success, but it was always understood that they’d go away. That’s what one- or two-hit wonders did. It was understood.

But then something weird happened.

(more…)

Many summers ago, I was a counselor at a remote summer camp in the heart of lake-bound Michigan and, suffering from a bad case of cabin fever (literally), I had been counting the days until my scheduled day off. Borrowing a fellow counselor’s car, I hauled ass to the nearest record shop in search of some new music to replace the cassettes I’d plum worn out since taking my position as rocketry instructor at Lake Of The Woods Camp. That day, I bought two albums sound unheard: the BoDeans’ Love & Hope & Sex & Dreams and E.I.E.I.O.’s Land of Opportunity.

I literally knew nothing of either band, but figured the album covers hinted at greatness within. Upon checking the liner notes of each, I was struck by the similarities.

For starters, both bands were from Wisconsin. Secondly, they had each occupied the same studio in L.A. during the recording of their albums, and, lastly, T-Bone Burnett showed up in the credits for each album; producing the BoDeans while adding acoustic guitar to E.I.E.I.O.’s “Blue Mountaintop” (download).

While I admit that I preferred the more rambunctious Land of Opportunity, there was a lot to like about the BoDeans’ debut. Most intriguing was the fact that they were fronted by two singer/songwriters, each with a voice and songwriting style that couldn’t have been more different. Kurt Neumann boasted a voice so honey-sweet that even when he pushed the edges, it still sounded smoother than smooth. Sammy Llanas, on the other hand, came across much more world-weary — with a voice that, to my ears, sounded like Festus from Gunsmoke. That their voices melded together to create wonderful harmonies seemed a minor miracle. (more…)

Although released in late 1977, the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack would be impossible to ignore for much of 1978, with the Bee Gees’ “Night Fever” and “Stayin’ Alive,” as well as Yvonne Elliman’s “If I Can’t Have You,” all reaching #1. At several points during the first half of ‘78, the soundtrack album was selling over 1 million units a week.

Bee Gees - Stayin’ Alive
Bee Gees - Night Fever (w/ More Than a Woman) (more…)

The weird thing about being into music as much as I am (much to the chagrin of every girlfriend I’ve ever had) is that I still end up missing out on a few — okay, a few hundred — really cool artists along the way. It’s just not possible to be up on all the cool music out there. It isn’t. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Of course, if you were anything like me when you were younger, you were quickly jaded to the greatness of certain artists who were, for lack of a better term, fucking huge. And it’s not just my generation — my parents were kinda “meh” about the Beatles because, near as I can tell, those guys were everywhere, and just about everybody and their freakin’ brother liked them. If I’d been alive, or at least old enough to give a crap when the Beatles were still together, I probably would’ve written them off too.

Thus there are quite a number of bands that were still together when I was old enough to give a crap and their crazy level of success and/or popularity made them like Kryptonite to me. My thinking was: if all the nimrods at school like them, how good can they be?

Case in point: Huey Lewis & the News. How does a cat go from palling around with Nick Lowe and Declan McManus to, ahem, wanting a new drug?

Then there’s Def Leppard. Forget that I was the first kid in my school to own 1981’s High ‘n’ Dry — the fact that everybody else soon owned a copy of 1983’s Pyromania quickly reduced Def Leppard to Loverboy status in my book.

And Prince? Don’t get me started. (more…)

The Beginning

Mike Zelenko (drummer): “I met Jim through an advertisement in the Illinois Entertainer (a local monthly music magazine) right out of high school.

He called me a couple days after the ad started running and told me to come out to Addison, IL (where he lived) right now. With him still on the phone, I’m asking my mom if I can I borrow a car. ‘I thought you were gonna mow the lawn,’ she says. In my other ear, I hear Jim saying, ‘Tell her that if you can’t borrow the car tonight, you’ll never mow another lawn.’

What impressed me the most about Jim was the fact that he was always thinking about the band in the future, planning 3 steps ahead. Forward progress was always being made.

We had a very D.I.Y. ethic, were getting college play, and were willing to work harder than other bands. We made sure to hit New York at least once a month.”

Ted Ansani (bassist): “Jim and I were friends at Columbia College and one day he asked me to start a band with him.. In turn, I asked, ‘Do you have enough music?’ He just smirked and said ‘Of course I do, man.’”

Jim was such a prolific songwriter, every day he’d write a song that was better than the song he’d written the day before.

In the beginning, we literally ran the record company out of Jim’s bedroom. We would glue the covers together, insert the vinyl, and send them out to every college radio station in the country.” (more…)

Tim Smith (ex-Jellyfish, current member of Sheryl Crow’s band)

1. The Beatles, Rubber Soul

My favorite period for the band, as they were firing on all cylinders. Pre-self-indulgent, post-early-sugar-pop.

“If I Needed Someone”

2. XTC, Black Sea

Their last record as a true “band.” Full of experiments, sonically and musically. They are one of my all-time faves. “Respectable Street” has one of the most amazing guitar riffs.

“Respectable Street” (more…)

Welcome to a series I began at He’s A Whore and am proud-as-punch to continue here at Popdose. While not able to mention everything that happened, I’ve touched upon some of the key events that made 1996 what it was, warts ‘n’ all.


Kiss announce plans to reunite with original members Ace Frehley and Peter Criss as part of a “farewell” world tour.

In March, Phil Collins announces his decision to leave Genesis.

That same month, the Sex Pistols announce plans for a reunion tour marking the 20th anniversary of the band’s formation. (more…)

This column is dedicated to featuring those bands that aren’t household names but, to my ears, should be.

Growing up in a small town in southern Michigan, the closest major city was Chicago. We were still a good two hours away, though, so it was with great inconsistency that my little bedside transistor radio picked up Chicago rock powerhouse WLS (home of legendary rock DJ Larry Lujack). During the fateful summer of ‘79, while Cheap Trick enjoyed their first taste of national and international success, another Chicago band was also ruling the Windy City airwaves.

That band was Off Broadway, and the song was “Stay in Time,” the first single from their Atlantic Records debut, On. Comprised of simple elements — as is the case with all great rock songs — there was something about “Stay in Time” that was nevertheless unlike anything else. (more…)

One of the great things about writing for a blog as world famous as Popdose is that the mere mention of my association with this collective of rock-blog superheroes gains me access to a world most people only dream about.

Okay, maybe it’s a world only I dream about.

Regardless, I’ve chosen to use my considerable clout not to bed French models and have all my drinks comped, but to ask some of my favorite artists for those albums that mean enough to them to be Desert Island Discs.

So, without further ado …

Peter Holsapple (dB’s founder, auxiliary member of R.E.M. and Hootie & the Blowfish):

Top five? Boy, make it hard on an old guy, would ya?

In no particular order:

(more…)