Strumming With The Rhythm …

My favourite rock and roll songs are:

1) Johnny B Goode 

2) Roll over Beethoven 

3) The last (rock and roll) song I heard by:

• The Beatles 
• Led Zeppelin 
• Tom Petty 
• AC/DC
• The Who 
• The Kinks 
• The Police 
• The Rolling Stones 
• Queen 
• U2
• Chuck Berry, obviously 

Oh, or Elvis, CCR, Buddy Holly, Springsteen, Dire Straits or ...

The 2nd Time Around

Some bands grab you right away, and never let go.  The Beatles, say.

Others are hard to ignore but take a little longer for you to appreciate.  For me, bands like CCR and The Band fall into that category.  They were there, in your face, all the time.  I just took a long time for me to realize how much I dug them.

Other bands, though, barley registered in my consciousness, and they sort of slipped on by while I was busy enjoying the music I was already committed to.  After all, you can only buy so much music, right?  Remember buying?

Anyway, every once in a while, I go back and explore bands that I had been vaguely aware of, but never really paid attention to.  Often, the rewards have been richly rewarding.

These days, I’m just as likely to put on Savoy Brown as Led Zeppelin.  And when I do, I always ask myself how did I miss these guys the first time around?  Humble Pie, Spooky Tooth and Status Quo are other bands I really enjoy now but more or less ignored until they were all but gone from the scene.

Your list will differ, but exploration definitely has its rewards.

So Many Roads

With apologies to the purists, here are the songs that helped me figure out that  The Blues was the thing:

·      Jimi Hendrix - Voodoo Child (Slight Return)

·      Led Zeppelin – When The Levee Breaks

·      The Doors – Riders On The Storm

·      Canned Heat – On The Road Again

·      Cream – Crossroads

·      Led Zeppelin – Since I’ve Been Loving You

·      Elvis Presley – Heartbreak Hotel

·      Johnny Winter – Highway 61 Revisited

·      The Beatles – Come Together

·      Creedence Clearwater Revival – Suzie-Q

Yeah, I know – but we all get there by different roads.  For me, Main Street was called Beatles Avenue.  Take a right at Rock & Roll Drive, left on Psychedelic Boulevard, left again at Hard Rock Road, slip down a back alley and you find this cool juke joint where they’re all playing:  B.B., Muddy, Sonny Boy, Howlin’’ Wolf, Hooker …  all of ‘em.

Does the road matter if we reach the destination?

There’s Something Happening Here

There is unrest in the land.  Check the headlines.  Turn on the news.  Things are not right, and the people are ticked.

How come, then, Rolling Stone’s 10 Best Protest Songs of All Time has one song from 1992, one from 1975, and 8 songs from the 60’s?  How come Dylan gets on the list four times?  Wait a minute: that’s obvious.

OK, but how come half the songs are about the Vietnam War?  Like nothing bad has gone down since?  No, that’s not true.  Check the headlines.

Is the musical world in denial?  Is its collective head in the sand?

Why are we singing “I’m coming up so you better get this party started,” when “there’s a battle outside and it’s raging?”  I thought art was supposed to imitate life, not avoid it.

Back over to you, Bob, I guess.

Absolutely Nothing

What is war good for?  Absolutely nothing.  So sang Edwin Starr, as we are reminded in Gibson’s 10 Vietnam Era Rock Classics.

There was a lot of major stuff going down in the 60’s: the cold war, the space race, and civil rights to name a few.  Not to mention the unrelenting march of rock music to its pre-eminent position in modern culture.  All against the horrendous, inescapable backdrop of the Vietnam War.  So the Vietnam War and the music of the late 60’s and early 70’s are inextricably mixed.

As the list makes clear, there weren’t many attempts to romanticize or justify that conflict.  The cruelty, the futility and the stupidity are front and centre as some of the best songwriters of the time moved pop music from its innocent, puppy-love and hand-holding storytelling towards much-needed social commentary.

The songs listed are full of outrage and indignation, but also of hope.  They offer an alternative, a future full of love, compassion, respect.  They understood what was going on, they could see that the times were changing, and they imagined a better world.

Too bad we stopped listening.

You Know My Name

So I stumbled on Rolling Stone’s 13 Dumbest Names in Rock History list and figured it would be a romp.  You know, Toad the Wet Sprocket, that sort of thing.

But Dave Matthews Band?  Why pick on poor Dave?  Why not Steve Miller, Jeff Beck or Charlie Daniels?  OK, maybe it lacks originality, but it makes it clear who the leader is and all that.

But whoa!  The Beatles are on this list?  A band pun?  No deep hidden meaning?  No wisdom?  Huh?

We’re punishing The Beatles because the name lacks wisdom?  Like Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple and The Cars offered new insights into life with their names?  Excuse me?

1910 Fruitgum Compamy.  Strawberry Alarm Clock.  Creedence Clearwater Revival  …  we have options here, people.  Viable options.

Okay, okay, so I know I’m a tad biased about all things Beatles, so I googled bad/stupid/dumb band names, and found that Rolling Stone followed this list up with a Readers’ Poll on The Dumbest Band Names of All Time, and found The Beatles there too.  The google search yielded a bunch of lists, and The Beatles was on most of them.

All I can think is that these lists were created by people under 50.   If you were there, you remember that everything The Beatles did was cool.  Everything.  We all knew the name was a little silly, but they did it, so it was cool.  Simple as that.

Look up the number.

Riffs Across the Water

New Musical Expresses 50 Greatest Guitar Riffs of All Time is another reminder for me that my culture is more rooted on this side of the Atlantic.

Lots of the expected suspects:  Back in Black, Smoke on the Water, Sunshine of Your Love, Voodoo Child, You Really Got Me, Satisfaction, Cinnamon Girl, Johnny B. Goode, and so on.

Glad to see Rebel Rebel made the cut.  Ditto Song2, Get It On, and Seventh Nation Army.

Speaking of The White Stripes, the list serves up a reminder (to me, anyway) that lots of great guitar-based music continued to be made after 1990.  Not enough, but lots.

That said, and with no disrespect to some of the newer bands listed, but no Springsteen?  No Creedence?  No Dire Straits?  No Tull?  No Zeppelin?  At all?  No Beatles?  Really?   Shouldn’t they have, like 6 or 7 on this list?  Hello?

Also, I get the feeling that the list is trying too hard to spread the joy; one for the Stones, one for the Kinks, one for him, one for her, one for them, one for you, one for me …   Fine, but I’m not sure I Can’t Explain is the Who’s best riff, or The Streets Have No Name the best from U2.  And yes, Free Fallin’ gets the audience singing, but is it really Tom Petty’s best riff?

Maybe these tunes just went better with the pictures.  The NME articles seem to be more about the pictures.

It Ain’t Me

Have a listen to CCR: Fortunate Son. 

Recorded, and presumably written, in 1969.  Still as true today as it was then.  Maybe even more so.

Lotsa stuff from back then didn’t age too good.  Hippy stuff.  Trippy stuff.  Peace, love and drippy stuff.

Not so this tune.  Relevant or what?  How’d ya do that, John?

Some folks are born to wave the flag,
Ooh, they're red, white and blue.
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief",
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no,
Yeah!

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand,
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh.
But when the taxman comes to the door,
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no.

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes,
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord,
And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"
Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! yoh,

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son.
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one.
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no,
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no,

The 45 Masters

Gibson’s 10 Greatest Singles Bands reminds you why radio used to be do darned good.  Here’s the list:

 1.  The Beatles

 2.  The Rolling Stones

 3.  Creedance Clearwater Revival

 4.  The Smiths

 5.  The Who

 6.  The Eagles

 7.  The Kinks

 8.  Oasis

 9.  The Guess Who

10. The Dave Clark Five

The singles from these bands makes for a pretty good playlist and a decent party.  With the exception of The Dave Clark Five, who understood their market and gracefully retired with the advent of FM radio, all these bands were pretty good on the album front too.  A key point, I think.

The article points out that although 45 RPM singles gave way to albums (then CD’s), in this digital age we’re back to buying singles.

Well, the singles were always there and were always the way to get attention and exposure.  So what sends the bands on this list apart?  For me, it’s a combination of volume and balance.  A multitude of hits to distinguish themselves from the one-hit-wonders, plus the ability to appeal beyond the constraints of the 3 minute pop song.  Each album had a few hits on it, plus some great album rock that proved these bands had depth.  That distinguished them from the pop groups who could churn out singles, but disappeared with the next fad.

The music from the bands on this list will not fade away.

Jalopy Rock

Gibson has this list of 10 Great Garage Rock Bands.

The intro talks about garage rock as both primitive and singles-oriented (not self-contradicting?) while Wikipedia describes garage rock as raw and amateurish - and punkish.

To me, rock and roll is punkish by definition. Three chords and a message (even if it's only complaining about the cheerleader who doesn't notice you) - that's the essence of rock and roll. Everything else is just window dressing - or pretense.

Anyway, here's the list:
The Count Five
Flamin' Groovies
13th Floor Elevators
The Seeds
The Troggs
MC5
The Electric Prunes
The Kingsmen
The Stooges
The Velvet Underground

Note to Gibson: not sure I buy that Jimi Hendrix loved The Troggs. I always felt his whole Wild Thing thing at Monterey was a put on.

The point of Gibson's list is who were the pioneers, so it is a pretty good list. Otherwise I might have said: where's Camper van Beethoven, The Northern Pikes, The Smithereens, or even George Thorogood? Not that any of these sounded amateurish.

It's not that I admire poor production of sloppy musicianship, but to me it's the feel of the music, not the degree to which it sounds professional. It's about raw rock and roll. So, my list would also include Creedence, The Kinks, The Status Quo, even The Stones and Neil Young.

We're talking genres, right? And a genre is about style and attitude, not commercial success, and certainly not ability. I mean, if Keef isn't punk then I don't know who is!

Less Is More

Speaking of Guitar Heaven ...

Technical prowess is impressive, but musicality is something else.

Take the case(s) of three rock icons who are not typically thought of as guitar heroes:  John Fogerty, Pete Townshend and Neil Young.

All three are more known for their songwriting than their guitar prowess.  All three were constrained in what they could do because their instruments carried the song (and the band).  And all three excel(led) at simple.

Fogerty's songs aren't much more than campfire folk songs, but they feel more complicated.  Dead simple chords, but lyrics and melodies that keep things interesting.  And his guitar solos never stray too far from the chord - in fact, they often are the chord (we're pretending the aimless wandering on Suzie Q and Grapevine didn't happen here).

Townshend's best songs are a little more complicated, but not much.  And again, his best solos are chord based.

Maybe Neil Young is in another category, now that I'm writing this.  His acoustic playing is superb, and often intricate.  His electric work is simpler, though (and noisier).  His soloing is neither simple nor complicated - it's just, just  … just downright weird. 

Every time I listen to him solo I think "this is so bad, why does it work?"  He has this uncanny knack of not sounding good but still sounding right.  Like he's deliberately saying, "I'm not Santana, Clapton, Hendrix, Beck, Vai or Malmsteen.  So what?  Doesn't this fit the song?"

Different styles, to be sure, but all three are skilled guitarists.  And all three let the song do the work.  And that, kids, is alright.

Take Another Little Piece of My Heart

Last week I saw a show billed as "Woodstock Festival Tribute."

The featured tribute artists were Melanie, Santana, CCR, Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker, CSNY, and Jimi Hendrix.  Also on the bill were The Doors and Jethro Tull.  Curious, really, since these two acts were not at Woodstock.

As it turned out it didn't really matter.  CSNY only did Neil Young solo songs - all from after August, 1969.  Tull and Santana also featured songs that couldn't have been performed at Woodstock.

But we live in an age when minor details and facts don't seem to matter.

Bending the truth a little might have been a smaller offence if the show had been good, but it was just OK.  Some good, some more bad.  When you find yourself thinking, sheesh, even the wig is bad, then you know it's pretty bad.

At least they didn't try and re-create the festival itself.  You know, warnings about bad acid and would you “please get down off the towers.”

I guess I made this point before, but: cover bands yes, tribute acts, I dunno.  Actually I do; no thanks.  I get manipulated enough as I go through life without paying for it.  Unless the act is mind-blowingly accurate, it's not entertainment, it’s just creepy.

Take It Easy

So many of the great songs follow the KISS principle.  They're simple, predictable.  Comfortable even.  Not boring, just simple.

I, IV, V and maybe VI minor.  Maybe only two chords.  Maybe a 7th here or there.  That's all you need.  Wonderful Tonight, Bad Moon Rising, Love Me Do, Stand By Me, Folsom Prison Blues  ...  the list goes on and one and on.

Sure, there are lots of complicated songs that are also great.  Many's the time when I've been playing along with a recording trying pick up a song, and I've struggled to figure out what is that chord?  But just as often my brain has told me to add a chord when a new one wasn't required.  Or to make the chord more complex than it in fact was.

My reaction is always, "oh!  It's such a cool sounding song and you're just a good songwriter John (or Eric or Tom or Bob or Pete or John or whoever), so I thought you were doing something clever."  Then it hits me:  "oh!  You were doing something clever.  You were keeping it simple."

Lots of very interesting and enjoyable songs have complicated chord progressions and cool key changes, but most of the classics, most of the songs that move us and get into our DNA don't go much beyond 3 or 4 chords.

It's a strange magic, but it works.