Posts Tagged ‘Lynyrd Skynyrd’

Bootleg City: The Cranberries in Munich, October ‘94

Hey, the head man is out of town!

This is such a freakin’ good idea. See, when our “public servants” walk into office having “plans” and “introducing legislation,” they immediately start screwing stuff up, why is why Mayor Cass’s bold move should set a precedent, from POTUS on down to the local dogcatcher: once you’re elected and you have your inauguration (if you can get a zombie James Brown to play the inaugural ball, more power to ya), you take a powder for at least three months.

Godspeed, Mr. Mayor, but stay away from the drinks that have the umbrellas. You think they’re some sort of chick drink, but they will mess you up.

Now that I have the floor, I’d like to explain a little bit about how I became a citizen of Bootleg City, and how this week’s featured bootleg is a perfect example of why everyonr should live here. Actually, I’m not really a citizen, seeing as how I was here from the very beginning — I set my homestead here long before the city was a reality. They surrounded me. These guys came to my land.

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The Producers: Tom Werman, Chapter Three

producers

The office I was given at Epic was located between the offices of Barry Kornfeld and Sandy Linzer, who were both A&R men and producers, as well. Both had been there for some time, and were at least five years older than I. Barry seemed partial to folk music, and had longish hair and a curly beard. He was soft-spoken, helpful and easygoing. I’m honestly not sure what he did at Epic, but I know he was involved with Tom & Harry Chapin early in their singing careers, and he was related to Artie Kornfeld , a successful producer/songwriter in the ’60s, and one of Woodstock’s originators. On the other side of me was Sandy Linzer, a pleasant, clean-cut guy from New Jersey who was a great songwriter, and had written some big hits for Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, including “Let’s Hang On.” Sandy was involved with a few artists while I was there, and just before he and Barry left Epic, he cut the original track to “Brandy” by Looking Glass, but the band felt it was a little too pop and wound up re-recording it with another producer. Sandy was managed by a casually dressed young guy with a great sense of humor, who would stop in my office after his frequent meetings with Sandy, and greet me with “Werman, what’s up?” He would sit down and we’d chat about the music business for a few minutes. I always enjoyed these impromptu meetings with the young Tommy Mottola.

After Barry and Sandy were let go, I was the senior A&R man at the label, reporting to Don Ellis. Don was the first A&R head to be named a Vice President (instead of “director”), probably in part to accommodate his pay grade. This was a good development for all of us, because I could now be promoted from “assistant” to “director.” Corporations like CBS had pretty strict pay grades, and your title needed to be on a par with your salary. I always found it a little amusing to find myself in an LA recording studio in 1980 in shorts and a tee shirt, knowing that I held the title of “Senior Vice President / Executive Producer.” By then, I was valuable enough to the label to be making a salary of nearly $200,000 a year, so in order to fit into one of CBS’s corporate pay slots, I had to have an important – sounding title. I always enjoyed handing out my business card, because it made me sound like a major corporate dude, while I was actually just a young guy who really liked rock & roll and was having a tremendous time making records.

But back in the first half of the ’70s, things were getting a little frustrating for me at Epic Records. After the REO signing, I had found and attempted to sign three different acts, each of whom was rejected by my boss for different reasons; these three acts went on to become three of the biggest-selling acts in the history of rock & roll. The frustration I suffered when I witnessed the eventual success of these bands was hard to bear. If I hadn’t respected and liked Don Ellis as much as I did, I probably would have held him directly responsible, but the fact was that not only was Don unenthusiastic about these bands, but I lacked the confidence and determination to argue their cases before his court of musical taste and insist we sign them. I should have. I discovered each of these acts well before anyone else in the A&R community was aware of them, but I folded in the face of doubt and opposition. Later in my career, I heard about people like Mike Appel, Springsteen’s first manager, who apparently had mortgaged his house to support Bruce’s career. This is confidence in an artist; and while I thought very highly of these acts I had seen, I didn’t enjoy the position of power in the company that would enable or entitle me to argue forcefully in their favor. (more…)

The Seventeeth Day of Mellowmas: Mellowmas Goes South

Well, folks, every year, we come across a song or two that we imagine will be truly, truly terrible — and we’re surprised to find out that they’re actually not half-bad. Take a trip with us down south and see if you agree!

Lynyrd Skynyrd — Santa Claus Wants Some Lovin’ (download)

From Christmas Time Again Amazon iTunes

Jason: Ungh! OOOOH! ROCK!

Jeff: This is unusual for a Mellowmas track.

Jason: You mean that it actually has some balls behind it?

Jeff: It sounds…hairy. Smells like Natural Light.

Jason: Or Milwaukee’s Best.

Jeff: Santa Claus wants some lovin’! It’s time for Santa to make his midnight greet!

Jason: Say it again! Santa Claus wants some lovin’!

Jeff: Oh, wait, that’s “creep.” As in, “this song is creeping me the fuck out.”

“Now I been trying to fix this old bicycle
Can’t seem to find my pliers
Halfway watchin’ Mama for that sleep in her eyes cause
Santa Claus wants some lovin’.”

Does that mean what I think it means?

Jason: I’m afraid so.

Jeff: Is he waiting for her to fall asleep?

Jason: I think so. I don’t know what it has to do with the old bicycle though.

Jeff: Or the pliers. shudder

“I don’t want no turkey
Don’t care about no cake
I want you to come here Mama ‘fore the children wake cause
Santa Claus wants some lovin’.”

I want to vomit.

Jason: See, this is a case where I think the music is just fine, but the lyrics are terrible.

Jeff: Shit, for all I know, this music is from another Skynyrd song.

Jason: I mean, the music isn’t great by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s not horrible.

Jeff: “Come make your Papa happy.” Spoken like a true man of the south!

Jason: Oh, no. That’s awful.

Jeff: “Daddy, get off me, you’re crushin’ my cigarettes!”

Jason: Hey, do you think Santa Claus wants some lovin’? Because they haven’t mentioned it about 300 times.

Jeff: Ssshh. I’m enjoying the solos. I’m finally having some fun this Mellowmas.

Jason: This isn’t going to go on until tomorrow like “Freebird,” is it?

Jeff: And they fucking faded it out! Assholes! Come back here and make your papa happy, dammit!

Jason: They probably faded out because the guitarist was drugged up and didn’t open his eyes for another 10 minutes. They didn’t want to disturb his groove.

Jeff: Or maybe another one of the Skynyrds was on the run from the law.

Jason: Actually, for all we know, that guitarist may still be playing. Maybe they faded it out, mixed it, pressed it and released it, all while he was noodling.

Jeff: Well, I feel unfulfilled. We were just starting to rock a little, and those dicks ruined it. I’ve sat through Al Jarreau, Barry Manilow, and worse.

Jason: Jarreau, Manilow and…Skynyrd. I smell a tour!

Jeff: I smell what happens when you mix together too many brands of toilet cleaner!

Jason: Ha ha ha!

Jeff: Stand back!

Jason: So now what?

Jeff: Well, we’re down South.

Jason: Uh oh. You have something else up your sleeve, I know it.

Jeff: And I’m in the mood for some more guitar.

Jason: Can’t I just send you a Tommy Emmanuel track?

Jeff: I have something caught in my beard.

Jason: Is it yesterday’s yogurt?

Jeff: Oh, would you look at that? It’s 38 Special!

Jason: slams head on desk

Jeff: Santa Claus needs a second chance, Jason. He knows he was wro-ooooooong, and he wants you back where you belong.

Jason: Great. Now “Second Chance” is in my head.

Jeff: Are you ready to have a wild-eyed Christmas night?

Jason: Does it even matter anymore?

Jeff: Absolutely not.

So listen, before we listen to this song, I want everyone to just sit and stare at the cover artwork for a minute.

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Jeff: Do you see that?

I repeat. DO YOU FUCKING SEE THAT?

Jason: I’m trying not to look at it! It makes my stomach feel all funny!

Jeff: What says “Christmas” like eyeballs hanging from a tree?

Jason: Yeah, that cover is almost as creepy as the Lee Greenwood cover.

Jeff: As if it wasn’t weird enough that 38 Special was making a Christmas album in the first place.

Jason: Well, let’s listen to the track. And see if it’s as creepy as the cover.

Jeff: I can only hope.

38 Special — A Wild-Eyed Christmas Night (download)

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From Wild-Eyed Christmas Night Amazon iTunes

Jeff: Real drums! It’s a Mellowmas miracle!

Jason: Yeah! “All right, let’s do it!”

Jeff: When you hear that, you know no one’s going to do it.

Jason: Huh. Jeff, this…this isn’t that bad.

Jeff: You know, I think I may have to agree with you. I mean, okay, it’s hokey as hell.

Jason: Yeah, but most Christmas songs are.

Jeff: And there’s nothing Christmasy about it. And they namecheck themselves in the chorus. Which is terrible.

Jason: WHOOOOOOOOOOOO! Wild-eyed Christmas night!

Jeff: But all things considered, this could be much, much worse.

Jason: Well, the lyrics are Christmasy, you gotta give them that. They’re talking about mistletoe and other shit.

Jeff: It…actually sort of rocks.

Jason: I know!

Jeff: Solo! See? This is what I wanted.

Jason: This feels…not right, somehow. Not right for Mellowmas. This is kind of like when we covered Paul Carrack last year. We expected awful, and we got…not-awful.

Jeff: This guitar solo is giving me the strength I need to carry on. It’s also making me want to listen to my Gary Hoey Christmas CDs.

Jason: I love the Gary Hoey Christmas CDs! I mean, it’s probably not an awesome song, but in the context of Mellowmas? It’s pretty fucking great.

Jeff: Yeah, it deserves a Mellowmas Grammy of some kind.

Jason: Well, what the hell? Let’s give it to them.

Jeff: And the award for Song Better Than Its Album Artwork goes to 38 Special’s “A Wild-Eyed Christmas Night”!

Jason: Ha ha ha ha ha ha! And the award for Band Least Likely To Put Out A Christmas Song That’s Not Adult Contemporary goes to 38 Special’s “Wild-Eyed Christmas Night”! And the award for Band Least Likely to be Able to Afford Real Horns and Drums goes to 38 Special’s “Wild Eyed Christmas Night”!

Jeff: YES! I was hoping they’d win that one!

Jason: How did this happen, Jeff? How did 38 Special wind up being Mellowmas heroes?

Jeff: It’s the magic of the season, my friend.

Jason: This is the question that could be asked in Alan O’Day’s Mellowmas song next year.

Jeff: Good idea — let’s ask Alan if he can write that down.

Jason: How awful to have your Mellowmas season rescued by 38 Special.

Jeff: It seems appropriate, somehow.

Jason: I feel wrong thinking, “Oh, thank God, 38 Special! I never dreamed you’d come!”

Jeff: Well, never let it be said that we don’t give Mellowmas credit where it’s due.

Jason: And there you have it, folks. Mellowmas Redeemed: The Story of 38 Special.

Jeff: If there’s one Mellowmas record you need to buy this year, it’s…38 Special’s Wild-Eyed Christmas Night.

Note: There are no Mellowmas records you need to buy this year.

Jason: Ha ha ha ha ha!

Motion Picture Soundtrack: “Free Bird”

There was an episode of television’s Friday Night Lights when a new character plays in his first game and forces a game-changing fumble. The lead-up sequence is unabashedly manipulative, as an unseen announcer criticizes Coach Taylor’s inflexible play calling and repeatedly exhorts the Panthers’ need for a big play. I remember remarking, out loud, “this is so predictable!” And yet, despite my awareness of how shamelessly Peter Berg was jerking the puppet strings of my heart, I couldn’t help but feel a swelling of excitement when Santiago burst through a blocker and leveled the quarterback with a blindside hit, sending the ball tumbling into the hands of a teammate and changing the momentum in the Panthers’ favor.

No movie has ever made me feel both so wonderfully uplifted and so deeply cynical at the same time as Forrest Gump (1994). The film itself is the feel-good story of the twentieth century, taking us on a tour of many of most significant events of the sixties and seventies, each punctuated by a digitally recreated appearance by Forrest and one of his homespun sayings. It’s pretty difficult to resist his good nature and simple charm, and there are plenty of scenes where I find my emotional response is more predictable than the salivating of Pavlov’s dogs. And it doesn’t really bother me. On the other hand, while the soundtrack to the film serves its purpose by providing appropriate period music to accompany the fantastical events of Forrest’s life and the world he inhabits, it is absolutely infuriating. I’ll explain why in a moment.

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