Our DbPB salute to Jim Peterik will conclude in two weeks. We interrupt that series to mark the recent passing of one of the cornerstones of modern melodic rock, bassist Marcel Jacob.

My long addiction to music began in earnest when I was a young pup, living in New Jersey, gazing with awe at the record collections of my two cousins, who are, respectively, 10 and 6 years older than I. They had hands-down the coolest stereo system I’d ever seen (with separate friggin’ components—turntable, receiver, cassette deck and 8-track player—whereas I only had an all-in-one system), and probably 120 or 150 LPs apiece. They were both southern rock aficionados, so there were plenty of Skynyrd, Rossington Collins, Molly Hatchet, .38 Special, Charlie Daniels, Outlaws, and Marshall Tucker Band albums. They also enjoyed what’s become known as the Laurel Canyon sound (Eagles, Jackson Browne), as well as the home-grown classics from down the shore (Springsteen, Southside Johnny).

My favorites from their collections, though, were the arena rock of the day—among them Foreigner’s first record, Boston’s debut, Aerosmith’s first four or five records, Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger, Journey’s Departure, Meat Loaf’s Bat Out of Hell, and that glorious run of Styx albums, from The Grand Illusion through Paradise Theater. I’d buy cheap 90-minute blank cassettes from K-Mart and my cousins would tape these records for me, two albums per tape. It was cool music by men with long hair and loud guitars—stuff my mother couldn’t stand and my dad would tell me to turn down. (more…)