Butterflies Above Our Nation

Sure, I know that Woodstock started out as a commercial enterprise.  I realize that it was basically a disaster.  I understand that most of the positive things happened by accident.  And I accept that the ‘Woodstock Nation’ was an illusion that would never materialize.

To which I say this: If we don’t grasp at illusions, if we don’t embrace fantasies, if we don’t chase dreams, there can be no magic in our lives.

And what’s the point of that?

No Time To Stay The Same

When I listen to Country Girl by CSNY, I can’t help but wonder how Neil Young next two or three solo albums would have sounded if he had recorded those songs with Crosby, Still and Nash.

It Happened Just The Other Day

I have been guilty of saying some unkind things about David Crosby, but I will say this: Almost Cut My Hair is one powerful tune.  Every single time I hear it, I stop what I’m doing and think: ‘Damn Right!’

I couldn’t even say what part of the lyrics grabs me ‘cause I’m not even sure I get them – but I’m not giving in an inch either if I can help it.

Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun

Every year when I see who is getting inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, my reaction is either “it’s about time” or “why them?”  Maybe sometimes both.

This year, I got to thinking: what makes a band deserving anyway?  So I listed my 10 favourite bands and looked for the similarities.  Here’s the list:  The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Cream, Deep Purple, AC/DC, Pink Floyd, Queen, The Who, The Rolling Stones, CSNY, The Kinks, Dire Straits, Jethro Tull, U2.

OK, that’s more than 10, but nevermind.  And I know your list is different and that’s cool.

But what sets them apart?  Genre/subcategory?  Nope.  Great musicianship?  Mostly, but not – with the greatest respect to those listed – universally.  Killer song writing?  It helps, I suppose.  Clothes?  Just kidding.

Maybe it’s a combination of curiosity and fearlessness.  I tend to think of my favourite artists as explorers, trying new ideas, poking around in unfamiliar places.  Even after they’ve forged their own sound and persona, there’s a restless drive to seek out the new and see what it has to offer.

That drive, that curiosity, that willingness to try something new is why the music of these bands still sounds fresh and exciting.  That spirit of exploration keeps the music young.

The First Cut Is The Deepest

When you’re huge, you’re huge, and after you’ve been around a while, your entire body of work tends to morph into one, uh, huge, thing.

So it begs the question, who would we still view – years later - as huge if they had stopped after only one album?  Hendrix, Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin, The Cars, Buddy Holly  …

After that, I dunno.  Adele?  The Band?  The Byrds?  Crosby Stills and Nash?  Dire Straits?  Eagles?  Elvis?  Jeff Beck?  Steely Dan?  Maybe.

There are a lot of names from the rock pantheon missing, a lot of acts that took a couple or three albums to really establish a place in music history.  The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, U2, Pink Floyd, Chuck Berry, AC/DC …

Maybe we’d remember them all, but more as flashes in the pan than big influencers.  But not many artists nailed it the first time out.

Before The Dawn

I don’t know: maybe all the protest songs have already been written.

Have a listen to Long Time Gone by Crosby Stills and Nash.  Sure, it’s about the assassination of RFK, but it’s about more than that right? 

Turn any corner
Hear what the people say
You know that something is going on around here
It surely, surely, surely won't stand the light of day

Speak out, you got to speak out against the madness
You got to speak your mind
If you dare

RFK spoke out against racism, inequality, a stupid war …  Wow!  That sounds like today.

But why use a 45 year old song – as compelling as it is - to talk about today?  How can that work?  Old fogeys like me will hear it and think about the 60’s.  Younger folk don’t listen to CSN(Y).  Who is singing out about today’s issues?

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.

8 Miles High

Well, why not?  40 Great Stoner Albums, a list of albums Rolling Stone says are “great for blazing along, but also great when you’re not high as a giraffe.”

Item one:  I’m no stoner.  I only owned 3 of the 40 albums listed, and I only recognized 14 album titles in total.  Tons of bands/artists I had never heard of!  I kinda always thought that drug and pop culture weren’t that far apart, and that you didn’t need to partake to get it.  Maybe I’m wrong.

Item two:  item one aside, I wonder if all these records are for stoners, or if some of them are just by people who were stoned.  David Crosby’s, If I Could Only Remember My Name, for example.

Item three:  Rock & Roll is an interstellar escape pod?  Pardon?  What does that mean, exactly?  I must be straighter than I thought.

Item four:  there is no item four.  Still trying to deal with item one.  I mean, I expected to see one or two blues greats, maybe Cream, Zeppelin, Dylan, The Byrds, Neil Young, Deep Purple (Mark I), Donovan, Tull, one of the 70’s Brit prog bands, someone from California other than The Dead …  Just three albums (Axis, Dark Side and Rubber Soul).  Sheesh!

Maybe I need to take a dreadlock holiday.

We Will Rock You

So, there are all these lists out there, but I can’t find a list of best rock anthems.  Curious or what?  Radio DJ’s, critics and the like use the term casually, but no one’s bothered to assemble a list.  Interesting.

Wikipedia says an anthem is a song of celebration, usually acting as a symbol for a distinct group of people.  With that as a reference, we could easily come up with a few rock anthems, right?

Like: Won’t Get Fooled Again, Stairway to Heaven, We Will Rock You,

Another Brick in the Wall, Part 2, Born in the U.S.A., Imagine, Sunday Bloody Sunday

Or, if you soften the definition to say people easily identify with the song, you could add: Won’t Back Down, Hotel California, Smoke on the Water, Woodstock,

Bohemian Raphsody, Hey Jude, All You Need Is Love

Or maybe the song just gets your juices flowing, like: Armageddon It, Layla, Southern Man, Smells Like Teen Spirit, Solsbury Hill, Born to Be Wild, American Woman

Or  …  it just feels like an anthem, say: My Sweet Lord, Free Falling, Let It Be, or pretty much anything by Rush

Hmmm  …  that wasn’t easy.  Maybe the ‘identify’ bit makes such a list too personal; you could build your own list but couldn’t expect anyone else to agree.

Anyway, for my money, the song that should top the list is Won’t Get Fooled Again.  It kicks you in the butt, fills you with a “ya, dammit!” attitude, and entertains you with some of the most powerful rock ever recorded.  If that isn’t an anthem, I don’t know what is.

Partners in Crime

Gibson has a list of 20 Great Rock and Roll Songwriting Partnerships, which includes:

Strummer and Jones from The Clash

Tyler and Perry from Aerosmith

Marr and Morrissey from The Smiths

Page and Plant from Zeppelin

Fagen and Becker from Steely Dan

John and Taupin for Reggie Dwight

Bachman and Cummings from The Guess Who

Chilton and Bell from Big Star

Jagger and Richards from the Stones

Lennon and McCartney – ya, d’ya think?

Nice to see Bachman and Cummings on the list, although The Guess Who had more than a few good songs after Bachman departed.

Why no Holland-Dozier-Holland?  Motown was rock ‘n’ roll, and those guys outsold everyone.  I know the article was tagged ‘dynamic duos’, but it’s really about partnerships.

Otherwise it’s a solid – if predictable – list. 

Or maybe it’s constrained and difficult to populate.  I scrolled through my iTunes library, and had a hard time coming up with any other real partnerships.  Lots of cases where the whole band gets credit.  Cases like CSNY or the Eagles where there were several individuals who each contributed great songs, but not many real partnerships.

Curious, that.  Music is such a collaborative thing.  I would have expected more.

Shakey versus Bouncy

I recently read autobiographies by two rock giants, Pete Townshend and Neil Young.  The books make an interesting comparison, since their authors are both hugely influential.

They have a lot in common: age (more or less), creative parents, respect and scholarship for the music of both their progenitors and their peers, boats, cars, obsessiveness with the recording process and technology, and – how shall we put it – eccentricity?

Although both books tended to wander, and completely ignore any sense of chronology, both were interesting.  Lots of little anecdotes, some trivial, some meaningless, some cool.  Tons of name-dropping.  If you were around, some great memories and reminders.

In terms, of insight, though, I’d have to give the nod to Neil Young’s book.  Townshend might have shared what he saw, but Young let’s you see with his eyes.  He tells you much more about why he did things, how he was thinking, and what he was feeling.  His persona remains intact; the book confirms that he’s rather shy, somewhat aloof, kinda weird, and absolutely committed to whatever he happens to be doing at any given point in time.  But he explains himself along the way, and manages to become a sympathetic character with a sense of humour.

Townshend?  Well, I always knew he was an angry guy.  His book confirmed that, but I’m really not sure I understand what makes him that way.  He can see for miles, but he can’t explain.

Say It Ain’t So

Aw…   New Musical Expresses piece on 29 Rock Myths Exploded is just a party-pooping downer.

No stomach pumps? no song-induced suicides? no mud sharks? no ash-snorting? no doobies in the john at Buck House? no Mars bars? no ham sandwiches?

Aw, come on!  They were such great stories!

Anyway, how do we know Charles Mansion didn’t audition for The Monkees?  Did anyone ask Stephen Stills?  Are we sure Paul didn’t die?  And what about Dylan?  Are we really sure?

And dammit, we gotta believe Keef had those full-body blood transfusions!  It’s just part of who he is!

Who are these people at NME?  Of course Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil!  Everyone’s known that for, like, 75 years.

This is what’s wrong with the Internet.  People can just make stuff up!  Deniers!  Truthers!  Balloon-prickers!  Liars!

Good on Keith Richards, by the way, who, true or not, got himself involved in 2 ½ of the 29 myths.  1^st place, even if it is in an alternative reality.

Back To The Garden

The Woodstock Festival ended 43 years ago today.  For a year or so afterwards, everything was so cool, so groovy, so possible.

Woodstock was a feeling, an attitude, a nation.  Then it became a ghost, a legend, maybe even a joke.

When did it die?  Five months later when a Hells Angel stabbed someone at the Stones concert at Altamont?  When Hendrix, Joplin and Morrison added their names to the celebrity death roll?  When the Vietnam War ended and there was no longer a unifying cause?  When glam rock, disco and prog rock snuck onto the scene?  Or was it already dying while Hendrix played his plaintiff guitar instrumental as people picked through the mud and the garbage to find shoes to wear home?

In the end, it was just a music festival, I guess.  A few nice ideas, but no substance.  But it could have been so much more.

One thing is for sure:  we’re no longer all feeding each other.

It's Gibson's 10 Greatest Supergroups!

Gee, were there that many? Here's the list:
 Blind Faith
 Asia
 Traveling Wilburys
 The Firm
 The Highwaymen
 Them Crooked Vultures
 Chickenfoot
 CSNY
 Bad Company
 Cream

No order on their list, so no complaints allowed.

Lotta ground covered, but one common thread. Big egos and short life spans. OK that's two threads.

Not sure about the Wilburys and Highwaymen though. Were they groups, projects, or larks?

Also wondering just a little about revisionist history ... Blind Faith and CSNY were definitely hyped at their inceptions as supergroups. So were Emerson Lake and Palmer, who are happily omitted from Gibson's list. I remember similar hype about Asia (way too much actually), but I honestly don't remember hearing the term since.

Bad Company were big, and yes you knew there was some connection to Free, but did people really think it was a big deal that the bass player had come from King Crimson, and that they were a super group? Not so much.

And yes the whole concept started by revising history. Cream was referred to as a supergroup - and they were superb - even though, like really, only Clapton was known beforehand. Alexis Korner? The Graham Bond Organization? These hardly made Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker household names.

Anyway, the whole concept is a downer. "Oh boy! Just imagine how great it's gonna be when these guys get together! It's gonna be amazing!" Sets us up for disappointment, doesn't it. Best case is the band can't keep it together for long. Worse case is the music just doesn't live up to the hype.

We do like to set ourselves up, don't we?

With Or Without You

Between radio, restaurants, bars, sports venues, shopping malls and our friend's MP3 players we tend to get subjected to the same songs over and over and over and over and ...

I don't know about you, but some of the songs have worn out.  And some can't.  It's a personal thing, of course, but some songs grab me every time I hear them.

Some songs I tend to enjoy sometimes, and sometimes not so much.  It depends on the mood, I guess.

Some songs, well, they've just plain overstayed their welcome.  Played too many times.  You know, the first million times or so were OK, but after that  ...  So they've slipped from "love 'em" (or at least "like 'em") to "can't stand 'em".  Familiarity breeds, and all that.

So here's a sampling of my three lists:

Grabs Me Every Time
While My Guitar Gently Weeps, The Beatles
Running On Empty, Jackson Browne
Woodstock, CSNY
Black Dog, Led Zeppelin
With or Without You, U2

Depends
Sultans of Swing, Dire Straits
Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin
Smoke on the Water, Deep Purple
Won't Get Fooled Again, The Who
No Time, the Guess Who

No More, Please
American Woman, The Guess Who
Life In The Fast Lane, The Eagles
Light My Fire, The Doors
We Are The Champions, Queen
pretty much everything by April Wine

So, hey all you people voting for - and compiling - the long weekend "best ever" list, do us a favour and mix it up a bit next time.

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.

Carry On?

My mom, probably like yours, always told me if you don't have anything nice to say, then keep your mouth shut.  That said ...

I saw Crosby, Stills and Nash in concert last year, and it was a sad affair.

I saw them in 1974, and have fond memories.  But their embarrassing performance at Live Aid in 1985, confirmed by woeful appearances on Rock and Roll Hall of Fame shows, set me up with low expectations for this concert.  Sadly, these expectations were met.

Their music is timeless.  Unfortunately, the boys aren't, and the litany of complaints is too long and painful to record here.  Suffice it to say that if you walked into a bar and didn't know who they were, you'd turn around and walk out.  In fact, I saw a tribute band a few years ago that was way better.

Here's a curious thing, though: the audience was enthusiastic.   Wildly enthusiastic.  I admit that when I recognized the big songs (eventually, in most cases) I felt a small wave of emotion wash over me.  But people must have been hearing the music in their heads, not the sound emanating from the stage.

I guess my brain is wired differently, because my overwhelming reaction was one of sadness, helplessly hoping they'd get off the stage before it got any worse.

Sorry, Mom.