I am still living with your ghost … *interrupted thought* Oh, hi there. You’ll have to excuse me, because when I hear any mention of Santa Monica, I immediately think of, well, you know.
It’s been kind of a traumatic week since returning from my weekend visit to Chicago. While I was there, Popdose colleague Robert Cass shared some disturbing news with me: according to Cass, the ’80s are coming to an end. As you can imagine, I was quite shocked to hear this. I mean, I’ve heard rumblings of something called “the ’90s” (boy, I bet the music is going to suuuuuuck in that decade), and even talk of “20-10″ something or other, but to hear Cass say something like that so bluntly and without warning — well, I was caught a bit off guard.
The weekend’s events took me back to this one time when I was growing up, a time in which Cass and I were still friends, long before the battles that would come later.
One particular day, I asked him if he had any Billy Squier in his CD collection. CDs are of course kind of new here in the ’80s, but since Cass and I are both innovative trendsetters, we were among the first on our block to get home units from Sony. Test units. (Huh-huh — “unit.”)
Anyway, it turns out that Cass isn’t far enough long in his evolution to know about Billy Squier. And damn, how can you miss him? We just got MTV in our household, and Billy’s been all over the music television, in living color. (Foreshadowing tells us that the “color” will come back to bite Billy in his spandex-wearing ass later in the ’80s, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.)
They say that all work and no play makes Jack Matt a very dull boy indeed. I can confirm that recently, this has definitely been the case, and it seems like the cruel gods that like to throw the occasional curve ball to keep things interesting for you at work, have been very busy working overtime of late.
Which made me think of those Canadian dudes that like to work at nothing all day, Bachman-Turner Overdrive.
Now, if you’ve heard “Takin’ Care of Business,” and any live performance by BTO, you might agree with me that the lyrics totally deliver truth in advertising. Is it just me, or did rehearsals for live performance get left by the side of the highway as a result of their adopted profession of being self-employed, working at nothing all day?
I’m sure that smart aleck do-gooder Matthew Boles will be by here soon enough, to tell us all about that awesome BTO show that he saw, back in the day when his homeland still had power. For the rest of you, did you ever get to see a really awesome live show from BTO that didn’t involve being heavily under the influence of scooby snacks to provide maximum enjoyment of the experience?
This week’s unfortunate passing of Ronnie James Dio sent the albums and live performances from his vast catalog into heavy rotation in my world (and I know that my fellow metal fans have joined me in this musical method of remembrance). As an individual, Dio was short and petite, yet he carried himself with the power and passion of an eight foot tall warrior. To see Dio storm and stomp around onstage, with that fire in his eyes while singing about your future life in hell, you started going through the mental checklist and asking yourself, “do I have all of my affairs in order? Because it very well could all end here tonight!”
There will never be another band or artist like Ronnie James Dio. Recent entries like 3 Inches of Blood and Dragonforce might cover similar subject matter, but the concert dudes at Wolfgang’s Vault note wisely that if any band today were to attempt a show in the vein of what Dio did back in the day, they’d probably be laughed off of the stage. These are different times, and often, it’s simply cost-prohibitive to mount a tour featuring dragons and a giant castle built to scale. It’s hard to come across good knights that are skilled in sword fighting in the midst of hazy smoke and lasers, and with security concerns always on the rise, you can forget about getting those swords and suits of armor through customs at the border patrol. And it’s a real bitch, getting the lawyers to sign off on dragons – something about security concerns, and a shortage of flame retardant Devo suits for the stage crew. (more…)
While reading the paper the other day, one of those strange but horrifically true kind of stories jumped out at me. A local man drove his car into an embankment at 100 miles per hour, sending the vehicle on a 173 foot air journey that ended with the car hitting the side of an apartment building between the third and fourth floor. Mercifully, no one in the apartment building was injured, although as you can probably imagine, the driver of the car perished in the crash. Local authorities said that they’ve never seen an accident like this, particularly one that involved a car traveling the distance and height involved in this accident. The local paper had their staff artist draw an artistic rendering to better explain how the car struck the building, which seems a bit unnecessary, but my mind had already gone to other places.
You see, in a different time and place with a few willing stunt doubles, this accident could have been a .38 Special video. The band was no stranger to videos with storylines – which you’ll already know if you’ve seen their video for “Back Where You Belong.” (Paging Captain Video! to the white courtesy phone.)
My favorite .38 Special video was the one for “If I’d Been The One” – a video which I hadn’t seen since I was a kid, but I remembered from the video that there were horses running loose, things on fire, and the token really hot chick, played in this video by future Mrs. Bruce Springsteen #1, Julianne Phillips. (Confession – I watched every single episode of Sisters because of Phillips’ role on the show.)
That sound you heard last week was the sound of an orgasm, shared in unison worldwide by the dedicated legion of Rush fans. Make no mistake, I’m not talking about Rush Limbaugh – rather, I’m referring to the much-loved Canadian rock trio, who answer individually to the names Geddy, Alex, and Neil.
To say that they are beloved by their fanbase doesn’t quite cover it. “Worship” might be a more appropriate term for your average Rush fan – you know, the curious guy in your neighborhood or office that can quote every lyrical square inch of the Rush catalog? Every couple of years, around this time as the weather finally begins to head towards the warm side, Rush fans watch and wait to find out if the rumors are true – will Rush tour this summer? Will Rush put out a new album? Will that tour be followed by a live CD, DVD and Blu-ray?
The answer to the last question: most definitely. Rush have released about 63 live albums* to date – so what’s the harm in adding one more to that stack?
(* the number of live albums is of course, slightly exaggerated)
They’ll also be performing their 1981 album Moving Pictures in its entirety. Yep, that’s the one that has “Tom Sawyer” on it.
The album also is the band’s most successful release in the U.S., charting at number 3 on the Billboard charts with over 4 million copies sold to date. (Popdose’s Jeff Vrabel also made cassette dubs of the vinyl edition for many of his neighbors, but those copies are not included in the cumulative sales totals.)
The band got crafty with the cover art for the album, which features movers moving pictures, people openly weeping as they look at, you guessed it, “moving pictures” and a film crew making a “moving picture” of the whole scene. With this carefully constructed album cover, those talented and cunning Canadian bastards pulled off a triple entendre. If Godsmack were to release an album today with the same title, they’d probably just use a blurry cover and call it done.
While many of the tracks from Moving Pictures have made an appearance in Rush setlists in recent years, this will be the first opportunity to hear a few legitimate nuggets that have been on the shelf for a while – cue the high fives right at that moment when they kick into “The Camera Eye.”
That’s right, you no longer have to placate yourself with cover band renditions of “The Camera Eye,” because this summer, you’ll finally get to see Rush play the whole damn thing. Just when you thought they weren’t getting those cards and letters that you’ve been sending them over the years, your Canuck prog-rockin’ buds acknowledge that indeed, they do know what you want. In fact, they know that you also want to hear “Witch Hunt.”
Damn dude, these Rush guys are psychic.
With the selection of Moving Pictures, Rush are going for the obvious mass appeal album that will sell tickets. Sure, Caress of Steel (or another album of your pick) might have been a ballsier choice, but even the most die-hard Rush fanatic will probably find himself (are there any female Rush fans?) smiling on the night of the show. Believe me, I groaned quite audibly when Springsteen announced Born to Run album shows, but once I saw it, I was pretty happy that I got to see the full album in sequence, even though many of the tracks were common staples of the setlist.
Anyway, we’re not here to talk about Bruce, and I certainly hope that you’ll be happy seeing Moving Pictures in full this summer. Within the Popdose Army, you’ll no doubt find some differing opinions. Mix Six dude Ted Asregadoo loved the album to pieces, but I think we’ll probably be buying our own tickets to the gig. You see, freebies have been kind of hard to come by, ever since Uncle Donnie wrote his bourbon-fueled rant of career advice to Rush management. Although his dispatch was originally written in 1977, it seems that they never received the original, and all would have been fine and dandy if Unc just woulda left things alone. But oh no, he had to put his archived copy of the letter onto the internet. Next thing you know, Popdose lead drummer Jeff Giles gets one of them angry letters from Rush management, and they kindly let us know in that gentle Canadian way, that we could put it where the sun don’t shine.
We’ll see you this summer on the road, and until then, we’d like to invite you to tune up a bit for the gig with this vintage show from the Grace Under Pressure tour, recorded at the Maple Leaf Gardens in Toronto. Uncle Donnie had to drive me to the show, which means that I got to hear him bitch some more about Rush, and that senile mother trucker kept yammering throughout the entire gig. Luckily, the fine folks at Wolfgang’s Vault made sure that I’d have a way to digitally remember all of the key moments of the show that I missed, because Uncle Donnie wouldn’t shut up!
For those of you that read my Ticket Stub piece last week regarding Michael Bolton, I should tell you that good portions of that were nothing more than an April Fool’s joke. I think that there are definitely portions of those untruths that could happen. Specifically, I don’t think it’s too late for a meeting of the minds between Clapton and Bolton.
Consider this – Clapton and his thirtysomething wife are in bed at the end of the day, and perhaps she suggests that Clapton should do something with Bolton, tagging the suggestion with “I’ve always liked him.” The next thing you know, there’s an album in stores featuring Eric Clapton and Michael Bolton. Together.
There are some oddities in the Concert Vault. Oddities like a 1983 Michael Bolton gig from Dallas, TX, when Bolton was hanging on the frayed edges of a failed attempt at success as a hard rock singer. Bolton was four albums into his career – two with the band Blackjack, and two albums prior to Blackjack, recorded under his birth name of Michael Bolotin.
Blackjack featured a heavy list of players – future KISS guitarist Bruce Kulick, bass player Jimmy Haslip (later a big name in jazz with the Yellowjackets, and also recorded/toured with Bruce Hornsby), and drummer Sandy Gennaro who eventually collaborated with a wide range of musicians from Cyndi Lauper to Bo Diddley. The wimp rock detector hit overload every time that Bolton took the stage with Blackjack, and despite this crafty promotional film featuring good words from legendary producer Tom Dowd (who called Bolton the most talented vocalist he’d worked with since Gregg Allman), Blackjack quickly sank.
A week ago this past Monday, prog kids around the world got their wish when Genesis was finally inducted into The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. The list of artists that are not in the Hall stretches for miles and miles, with many kept out as a result of politics and critical disdain for their music. Among those on the list, Genesis have been a group that brought up in conversations past, would often provoke a surprised reaction, upon learning that they were not already among the bands/artists inducted.
But what does it really mean as an artist to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? I suppose it gives you a little bit of prestige, but what is that prestige worth in the long run? In the short term, perhaps a small bump in record sales. Who cares, right?
And perhaps that is why many of the artists that are currently among the snubbed could care less. They’re going to continue to make money from catalog royalties and touring – they’re not worried about having their “legacy” represented on the walls in Cleveland.
But if you’re inducted, chances are good that you’ll show up to accept the award, and say a few words about your career. You’ll put aside any feuds for the moment, because the alternative is to not show up, and look like an self-absorbed asshole to your fans. The principal members of Genesis (Phil Collins, Tony Banks and Mike Rutherford) looked like they were doing a job – we’ll do this one for the fans, but you can’t force us to look like we’re happy to be here. Collins had a nice enough speech that gave credit to all of the folks that had helped them on the way up. Banks let former guitarist Steve Hackett say his piece, and then walked quickly away from the podium without saying a word. Mike Rutherford had the unfortunate task of apologizing for the absence of Peter Gabriel, and although he called Gabriel’s excuse for absence “genuine,” (Gabriel was rehearsing a tour that started on the 22nd) I’m sure that even he knew that that was bullshit.
I’ll freely admit that the first time that I saw Dave Brubeck, I really had no idea what a treat I was in for. Out of all of the music that my dad had shared with me, it was the stuff like Dave Brubeck’s music that really dominated his daily musical listening, and it was this music that he was truly passionate about (and since he’s still very much alive, I should point out that it is still Brubeck’s music that drives the bus on Dad’s stereo system).
While Dad had made specific efforts to introduce me to certain groups and artists, Brubeck’s music was something that he probably tried to share with me a couple of times, and being all about the rock, it’s fair to guess that I probably didn’t pay much attention. I wasn’t much into his normal listening material, whether it was Brubeck or spaciously majestic pipe organ recordings that I perceived to be “jurassic stuff.”
Yet it was Dave Brubeck’s music that subtly made an impression on me, with a track like his signature “Take Five,” being enough of an earworm to make me want to know more about the music flowing out of the speakers, and Dad has always been more than happy to properly school me. Perhaps it is his influence that made me a person much like him, someone who is always ready to share information about a band’s entire discography with you in response to a simple question, when really, all you wanted to know about was that one album. We can’t just discuss the one guy – we’ve got to discuss the whole group! You’ve got to know where that sound comes from!
In the early ’90s, I got my proper education on Brubeck’s music when Dave scheduled a summer date at Nautica Stage, which was still an open air stage at the time (they later would add a tent covering the majority of the seating). Shows were held rain or shine which meant that occasionally, you’d get massively drenched, which for a music fan was a small price to pay for the chance to see a legendary show. One show that comes to mind featured Joe Walsh and Glenn Frey, sharing the stage for the first time in many years, a catalyst for the Eagles reunion that would follow a short time later.
It was pouring rain on the day of Brubeck’s show, and I wasn’t thrilled at the prospects of getting soaked at the show. Up to this point, I had been lucky enough to avoid getting caught in the rain at Nautica, and now it seemed almost certain that that streak was about to come to an end. Luckily for me, we got to the venue and found out that they were moving the show indoors, inside the nearby Powerhouse Complex. There couldn’t have been more than 250 people jammed into every available square inch of the room, and Dad and I had front row seats, which in the revised venue, put us mere inches away from Brubeck and his band. It was incredible.
Walking through the mobile home that functioned as the broadcast headquarters for the West Texas radio station KWES-FM, we made a stop in the middle room, which was the “promotions department” for the station. Meeting the promotions director, opened my eyes wide to the concept of radio stations and “free stuff.” She rummaged around in the office and gave me a station bumper sticker, plus the ultimate prize, my very own circular Sammy Hagar “I Can’t Drive 55″ button. Hagar was still a little bit off of my musical radar at that point – I knew “I Can’t Drive 55,” but not much else about the catalog of the so-called “Red Rocker.” During visits to the record store, I had looked many times at the album cover for Hagar’s latest album VOA, and snickered at the inclusion of a song called “Dick in the Dirt” in the track listing.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, Hagar was about to make a really big impression in my world. Shock waves moved through the rock world in 1985 with the slightly unexpected departure of David Lee Roth from Van Halen. When the dust began to settle from Roth’s departure, Sammy Hagar was the new guy holding the microphone in Van Halen. I knew enough about Hagar at this point to know what an interesting and unorthodox choice Van Halen had just made. Vocally, Hagar was anything but a clone of David Lee Roth – a clear roll of the dice and statement from Van Halen that they were going to do something different. And so it began, one of the most controversial ( heavily debated to this day, and ultimately one of the most successful) lineup changes in the history of rock and roll music. (more…)
Walking through the mobile home that functioned as the broadcast headquarters for the West Texas radio station KWES-FM, we made a stop in the middle room, which was the “promotions department” for the station. Meeting the promotions director, opened my eyes wide to the concept of radio stations and “free stuff.” She rummaged around in the office and gave me a station bumper sticker, plus the ultimate prize, my very own circular Sammy Hagar “I Can’t Drive 55″ button. Hagar was still a little bit off of my musical radar at that point – I knew “I Can’t Drive 55,” but not much else about the catalog of the so-called “Red Rocker.” During visits to the record store, I had looked many times at the album cover for Hagar’s latest album 