Posts Tagged ‘Jeff Beck’

Basement Songs: Jeff Beck with Terry Bozzio and Tony Hyams, “Big Block”

basementsongs

In an effort to conserve gas and save money, I’ve been riding my bike to the train station on a regular basis.Beck It reminds me of my sophomore year at BGSU, when I’d zip around the campus on the red one-speed I bought for three bucks from my friend, Brett. With my Toledo Mud Hens hat turned backwards and an obnoxious turquoise backpack over my shoulders, I’d ride to classes or just tool around aimlessly with the strong Bowling Green winds trying to blow me over. Accompanying me on these journeys was my semi-reliable Emerson portable cassette player (made from the finest plastic China had to offer). And blasting through my headphones in October of ’89 were my favorite albums at the time: Edie Brickell & New Bohemians’ Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars and Jeff Beck’s Guitar Shop.

Brickell and her band were the flavor of the month, with a hit single and exposure on the radio and MTV. Beck’s record, on the other hand, was released with hardly any airplay and little press (the only review I read appeared in Rolling Stone). What the mainstream missed was their loss, because this is one killer album. Featuring his longtime collaborator Tony Hyams on keyboards and former Missing Persons drummer Terry Bozzio, Guitar Shop is a solid mix of rockers and ballads. Moreover, each instrumental displays a 45- year old Beck on fire, showing up the hair metal rockers half his age who dominated the radio in the late ’80s. In the movie in my head, when I wanted to feel cool and ride around like I was Mel Gibson on a bike, I would cue up “Big Block,” with its funky beat and nasty guitar solo, and just cruise the campus. (more…)

Parlour to Parlour, Episode 15: Norfolk & Western

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When I was in junior high, I had a gym teacher who used to talk a lot about “life’s embarrassing moments” as a way to put her students at ease. Whether the situation involved repeatedly missing a goal, completely screwing up the process of a game, or just feeling uncomfortable with one’s body, “life’s embarrassing moments” were many, and you could count on them to keep happening without fail. So, best get used to them and learn how to deal with it.

My brief meeting with the Portland folk rock band Norfolk & Western turned out to be one of those moments, though I hardly knew it when it was happening.

Still 58I actually hadn’t explicitly planned on getting footage of Norfolk when I put together my initial wish list of Parlour to Parlour artists. I figured they might be good for a second season, once I had become more familiar with their recordings. I had seen them perform live once before, at Cafe du Nord in San Francisco. Chris Robley was filling his usual role as supporting guitarist and keyboard player in their road band, so it was chance for me to see and hear him in a different context.

Chris was the one who offered to get me an interview with Norfolk, since I was going to be in Portland during a weekend when he’d be playing a gig with the band at the Aladdin Theater. It would be out of concept, in that there would be no footage at anyone’s home, but hey, these people are friggin’ busy: singer/guitarist Adam Selzer is also a regular member of M. Ward’s band and a partner at Type Foundry Studio, drummer Rachel Blumberg plays with Mirah and Jolie Holland, and bassist Dave Depper has gigs with Jolie Holland and Loch Lomond. Downtime, these people have not. (more…)

Rock Court: The People vs. Eric Clapton

Rock Court

For the prosecution: Mojo Flucke, Ph.D.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution will prove that Eric Clapton has committed numerous crimes against rock, namely:

• Making music way more derivative than legally permissible for a rock god
• Exploiting fans by releasing milquetoast pap
• Squandering monstrous talent

Clapton is not God, contrary to the Islington graffito proclaiming it during his tenure in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers. He is, however, an excellent blues mimic, taking compositions like Robert Johnson’s “Crossroads,” William Bell and Booker T. Jones’ “Born Under a Bad Sign,” and for Mayall, Freddie King’s “Hideaway.” He can derive like few others on earth, in a musical milieu where creatively covering other compositions is the best way to connect with the audience.

Yet great blues musicians contribute at least one or two original compositions–or the definitive interpretation of someone else’s song–to the canon of blues standards. B.B. King has “The Thrill Is Gone” and “Every Day I Have the Blues.” Junior Wells, “Messin’ With the Kid.” John Lee Hooker, “Boogie Chillen’,” “Boom Boom” and “One Bourbon, One Scotch, and One Beer.”

Clapton’s got nothing. “Layla” is known for its innovative coda written by Domino Jim Gordon and a legendary main riff written and co-performed by Duane Allman. “Sunshine of Your Love” was co-written by all three members of Cream. Its undisputedly legendary guitar solo opens not with an original Clapton-improvised phrase, but the melody from “Blue Moon.”

Left to his own devices, Clapton churns out total dreck. There’s a lot to choose from; I’ll keep it brief by offering the “greatest whiffs” from three different decades: (more…)

The Popdose Interview: Mike Stern

MikeStern_photo1[1]After the rise of rock and roll, jazz, and jazz guitar especially, has carried a penumbra of snooty affectation.  If you take the time to learn how to play over “Giant Steps,” and learn four different voicings for a Bb13(#11) chord, why would you care about the pedantic, pentatonic noodling of Eric Clapton? That’s kid’s stuff. If someone is really into jazz guitar, they don’t like rock and roll.

I’ve always thought that was crap. I love jazz, and rock, and more or less every other genre of music.  That jazz is more complex, and requires more of the player than the other, does not invalidate other genres.

Case in point? Mike Stern.  Stern is one of the best-known jazz guitarists currently working, but few have taken better advantage of the genre-busting power of the electric guitar.  He has played with everyone from Miles Davis and Joe Henderson to Roy Hargrove and the Yellowjackets, but he has never turned his nose up at rock and blues music, and on his latest release, Big Neighborhood, on Heads Up records, his original compositions run the gamut from rock to funk to jazz, and feature a star-studded guest list from Steve Vai to Randy Brecker to Medeski, Martin & Wood. (more…)

The Producers: Molly Hatchet, the Nuge, and Missing “Budokan”

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album-ted-nugent-double-live-gonzo11978 was a pretty busy year for me, with four album releases and a family move to Los Angeles: Ted had Double Live Gonzo, a two-record live set at the beginning of the year, and Weekend Warriors toward the end of the year. We recorded the first Molly Hatchet album in Orlando, and did Heaven Tonight with Cheap Trick, again in Los Angeles. As with the Jeff Beck /Jan Hammer live album, for Ted’s live album we recorded a number of dates, and then sat down to listen to the material. Again, we found that most of the best performances came from one night (in this case, San Antonio), and we did some repairing in the CBS New York Studios – the only time I actually did any recording in New York City, and the only time I worked in a CBS studio. Live LPs in those days (and I’m sure today, as well) were carefully crafted affairs, designed to sound as if they were recorded at the show, but in actuality fairly worked-over in the studio to repair the mistakes.

Live recordings had tracks for the hall’s public address system and for the audience, to capture the size of the hall and the size and energy of the crowd; because they already carried a record of what happened onstage, we couldn’t depart very much from what was actually played, but if you were careful, you could either correct or completely replace the vocal and guitar tracks. We brought Ted into the studio in New York, and we had a pretty enjoyable time fixing up this album, since Ted can be fairly zany in front of a mike. At the end of one song, we heard Ted onstage yelling “San Antonio! San Antonio!” Right after we heard this, as the tape played on and Ted was still in place behind the studio microphone, he added “suck my bonio!” This produced much mirth and merriment in the control room (we were younger and less mature then) and we kept it for the master — it’s just a little buried in the mix. After all, Tipper Gore and the Parents’ Music Resource Center had yet to come along. (more…)

Caught on Tape: Joe Perry, Guitar God in Training

joe_perry1December 1973, Hollywood, California – Back in 1973, before he was Joe “Fucking” Perry, the Aerosmith guitarist was just another kid in a hard rock band from Boston. Thirty-five years ago, he hadn’t racked up album sales in excess of 150 million or been immortalized in a video game. He was neither one-fifth of the Bad Boys from Boston nor one-half of the Toxic Twins. And he was still at least 10,000 broken strings away from becoming one of the coolest and most copied guitar players of all time.

But you could have never told Joe Perry that. From the moment Aerosmith were formed in 1971, the guitarist had a vision, and the balls and chops to back it up. In his head, the gold records were already mounted on his walls – right next to all of the framed guitar mag cover stories. The concept of Guitar Hero may have escaped him, but it certainly wouldn’t have surprised him.

Aerosmith were stars just waiting to happen.

That blind faith, however, was sorely tested at the beginning of ’73. Columbia Records had released Aerosmith, their eponymous debut, but it had barely broken into the Billboard Top 200. “Dream On,” their first single, had stalled at number 59 on the Pop Singles charts.

It was a bad year for a baby rock band trying to make its bones. (more…)

Caught on Tape: Jeff Beck and the Sounds of Silence

For more than 30 years I’ve been interviewing and writing about guitar players. I was a mediocre guitarist and had flunked out my first year as a UCLA English major, but I read every music magazine I could find. I figured I had what it took to be a music journalist, and when guitar magazines were first coming of age, I was there — the right place at the perfect time. And I’ve been there ever since.

These are the stories I wrote and the interviews I recorded. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but neither did anyone else. That’s one of the great things about being there at the beginning of something — you can make up your own rules as you go along.

And the best part of it was that guitar players really wanted to talk to you. You made a phone call and set up an interview — just that easy. Which isn’t to say that once you were in the same room with this person, everything was cool. Hardly. Sometimes you were lucky to escape with even a shred of dignity intact. These were, after all, quirky and quixotic rock guitar players. In that regard, not a lot has changed in the past 30-plus years.

Still, it’s been a journey that few have ever taken. For all my idiotic questions and the ensuing silence, for all the sheer heart-stomping terror, I wouldn’t give back a second of it. So, take a seat, buckle up, and hang on. This is the craziest and most insane ride you’ll ever take inside your own head.

beck701JEFF BECK AND THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE
or WHY DIDN’T I HIT THE DAMN RECORD BUTTON?
(May 3, 1973 — Hollywood, California)

The drive from my guest house/cottage in the hills of Hollywood to the then-hallowed Continental Hyatt House took maybe four minutes. It was 240 of the most anxiety-laden seconds I’d ever experienced. Like a cascading guitar riff, you roll down Laurel Canyon to Sunset Boulevard, make a right, and head west for about one and three-quarter miles. There it was, north side of the street, a cement-and-chrome monument to everything that was wickedly wonderful and over-the-top back in the ’70s. Dubbed the “Riot House” by the parade of English bands winging their way across the Atlantic on ever-expanding American tours, the Hyatt was the only hotel in Hollywood that not only provided room and board for these visiting musicians but willingly sought out their business. The management delighted in the destruction of rooms, the torching of couches, the high-velocity belching of motorcycles riding up and down the hallways. Musicians may have caused physical damage, but they were also fiscally responsible — if you trashed a room, you paid cash to fix it.

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The Producers: Tom Werman, Chapter Five

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To Popdose Readers: My apologies for not having noticed that some of you have been sending me comments on the web site. Jeff pointed out that I could see them right below the text, and I wanted to say thanks for the interesting messages. I will try to answer as many as I can individually from this point on, now that I know where to find them. I’ll also try to publish one installment per week. The past few weeks have been clean-up time here in the Berkshires, and I’ve been playing pick-up-sticks after a pretty serious winter. Next week I’ll be playing golf in the desert with a bunch of ancient record execs, managers and even a couple of musicians. After that, I’ll do my best to settle in at one installment each week. Thanks for your patience.

From my perspective inside the label, it was both fascinating and ridiculous to see the change in how I was assessed by my colleagues after Ted’s first LP went platinum in a matter of months. I’d be toiling at the label for five years, trying to sign bands, doing edits for single releases, and evaluating thousands of live performances and tape submissions. Now in a matter of weeks, it was suddenly “You’re beautiful, babe.” Traditionally, there has been so little consideration for prior accomplishments and accumulated experience in the record business that it really does come right down to “What have you done for me this week?”

I certainly hadn’t spent five years at Epic hiding or being shy, and I believe there was plenty of opportunity during that period for my colleagues to assess my musical judgment and taste; but now that I had accomplished something that improved everyone’s lot at the label, there was a rather abrupt change in the way people regarded me. One hit album made me a seasoned expert in the eyes of many in the music business – because I had both signed and co-produced this new artist. Of course, Ted’s opening slot on the Aerosmith tour and his new aggressive management by the Leber-Krebs organization certainly didn’t hurt album sales, but this was plain enough for everyone to see. Still, I had a new-found clout that was palpable. Suddenly the label was interested to know whom I would produce next.

jeff20beck71Jeff Beck was an Epic act with whom I was familiar as a result of my being the A&R liaison with our British artists, who also included Argent, the Hollies and Argent’s lead singer, Colin Blunstone. I had spent some time with Jeff at his home outside London, where he showed me his hotrod collection and we played some snooker in the game room. Since the Yardbirds, Jeff was pretty much a solo act, and when he played live, it was usually with other well-known musicians (Carmine Appice, Tim Bogert, Rod Stewart, etc.).

When he teamed up with keyboardist Jan Hammer, they decided to do a live album, and I was assigned to oversee the project. This involved recording five or six nights in several cities, and then evaluating the recorded material to determine the best performance of each song. In order to do this properly, I had to have over 50 rough mixes, and Jeff wanted to fix up quite a few of his tracks before we compared them. (more…)

When Good Albums Happen to Bad People: Roger Waters, “Amused to Death”

You probably won’t be surprised when I tell you that this has been the hardest post for me to write since Popdose started. I mean, it’s been a damn month: what’s the holdup? Well, the truth is I discovered it is a lot easier to write about straight-up criminals like the members of Mötley Crüe, or hardcore divas like Diana Ross, than smug, pretentious assholes like today’s subject, Roger Waters. Simply put, it’s rather entertaining to write about individuals in the former categories. To write about Waters, however, is as trying a task as actually listening to his solo work in an attempt to find if any of them are worth talking about in this column. But I was able to find a good one, or a “good” one, depending on one’s ability to stomach conceptual prog joints. First though, a refresher on Herr Waters’ crimes of pomposity.

-Waters became the default main writer in Pink Floyd after Syd Barrett’s descent into mental illness, apparently exacerbated by a horrible LSD experience. And while Waters often spoke about how he wished to find and kill the man who gave Syd bad acid, this level of care did not apply to the addictions of other members of the band. Waters made the unilateral decision to fire founding Floyd member and keyboardist Richard Wright during sessions for The Wall, when he deemed Wright’s addictions too much of a distraction. Then, as an added slap in the face, he hired Wright back as a session musician to complete the album and go on the abbreviated Wall tour. In other words, Wright was not messed up enough that his talents couldn’t be used, but was messed up just enough that Waters wished to symbolically disassociate himself from him. Charming.

-More than just the main lyricist, Waters made himself de facto leader of the Floyd, taking complete creative control of the direction of the group. This culminated in refusing to put any Gilmour’s songs in 1983’s The Final Cut, then leaving the group after its release and declaring them over, with that album as their final, definitive statement, as if the rest of Pink Floyd really wanted to have their last album be a de facto Waters solo album: The record jacket even said “The Final Cut by Roger Waters, performed by Pink Floyd.” Waters then sued the other members of Pink Floyd to stop them from carrying on under that name after he left the group. His defense was that Pink Floyd should not be allowed to continue because he was the creative leader of the band, and additionally there remained only one original member (Nick Mason) who wanted to carry on. In other words, though Gilmour had been the musical centerpiece of the group for two decades, he was still nothing more to Waters than a hired hand to replace Syd Barrett, so f-all what he wanted. (more…)

Bottom Feeders: The Ass End of the ’80s, Part 7

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The story of how I completed my collection continues in 2006. I was winding down to the end. I found that collecting the first 4,000-plus songs to hit the Billboard Hot 100 in the 1980s was no big deal, but the last 200 or so were giving me issues. If I had to pinpoint why, I’d say the three biggest obstacles were:

1. “Single-only” songs. The songs released by artists never heard from before or since, and only available on 45, were the most difficult ones to find by a long shot.

2. Crappy records from the tail end of an artist’s career. Contributing to the difficulty of my task were the artists that had had hits for 20 years prior to the ‘80s but just didn’t know when to stop recording, or tried to make a failed comeback attempt. Half the time the artist was crap once the ‘80s rolled around, and his/her/their LP sales were so poor there was never a second pressing or a proper CD release. The other half of the time the artist’s label decided enough was enough, so he/she/they had to release one final album on a new label — naturally, the singles from new-label, final-label albums don’t appear on 99 percent of greatest-hits compilations since they weren’t spawned from the same label as all of the artist’s other songs.

3. Price. I could’ve finished my collection a lot sooner than I did had I been willing to spend anywhere from $12 to $25 on an LP. But I’m not made of money, so aside from some pretty rare albums, a limit of a few dollars was my peak price. In almost every case, what I needed was considered rare mainly because it was crap and no one’s ever had the desire to release it again: go ahead and charge $250 for a rare Beatles 45, but just because you have a tough-to-find Unipop single doesn’t mean it’s worth anything. The end result of it all is that I was eventually able to find everything at the price I wanted.

Here’s the thing, though — I say my collection is “complete,” but technically it’s not. I have 4,229 of the 4,230 songs (approximately) that charted in the Hot 100 from 1980 to ’89. I’m missing just one record: “American Memories” by Shamus M’Cool. Though I do have it on MP3, it’s the hard copy I desire, but I can’t locate it. And I’m never going to locate it, but after a few years of searching I’m finally okay with that.

As far as I’m aware, only ten copies of this 45-only song were ever made. It’s easily the hardest to find of any charting song in the ’80s, and some historians will tell you it’s the hardest song to locate in the history of the Billboard chart. Up until April I’d only seen one copy available, as part of a full collection of music going for $300,000. Then a crazy thing happened — there was a dude on eBay selling this record! The end price was $3,600; if I was going to spend that much money on something I’d have ponied up an extra hundred and bought Oran “Juice” Jones’s $3,700 lynx coat. Trust me, though, it pains me not to have “American Memories.” Instead I’ve filled that hole with the purchase of the original contract that Shamus M’Cool signed to perform the song on The Mike Douglas Show back in 1981. It hurts to collect for so long and then not be able to finish my collection, but such is life.

Of course, I just couldn’t stop there, so next week we’ll end the story with where I’m currently at today with the collection. In the meantime, enjoy some more Bottom Feeders starting with the letter “B.”

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