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.

At The Station

I dunno.  Listening to White Room by Cream, I just think that Jack Bruce was the most underrated singer in rock.

One Summer Day

For me, Cream’s version of I’m Sitting On Top Of The World was that moment when I said, "Yeah, alright.  I get it.  The Blues."

Cream gave me Muddy, and Hooker, Robert Johnson, and B.B., and Son House, and Keb’ Mo’, and Bonnie Raitt.

Different Shades of Blue

One of the things I really dig about Joe Bonamassa is he’s an all-in-one deal.  

Play one of his CD’s and by the time you’re done you’ve had your Cream fix, your Zeppelin fix, your Allman fix …  Buddy Guy, B.B., Gary Moore, Rory Gallagher, Mark Knopfler, Taj Mahal … Humble Pie, Savoy Brown – the list goes on and on.

With Joe, you get all the major food groups in one very tasty blues-rock stew.

Like all great musicians, Joe Bonamassa has his own voice.  But like all great musicians, he’s a superb student of what’s come before.

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?

I’m Glad, I’m Glad, I’m Glad

The 50’s and 60’s gave us a lot of delta blues dressed up, first as rock and roll, then as blues rock.  No surprise that Cream applied that treatment – brilliantly, in my books - to I’m So Glad by Skip James.

So if you’re a contemporary of Cream, you go looking for another tune, right?  I mean, what’s the point in re-doing See See Rider after the Animals?  No wait, someone did.  Actually, lots of people.  Nevermind.

Anyway, it turned out if you were Deep Purple you could re-do I’m So Glad and make it totally new.  You know, just weave Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherezade around it.  Obvious! 

Not really, and that’s what made that psychedelic era so freakin’ amazing.  Thanks to the fearless, restless exploration that dominated the times, a simple little ditty became a psychedelic, early prog rock tour de force.

Reelin’ In the Ears

Great songs hook you quickly, and reel you in.  This is nicely illustrated by Guitar World’s The 20 Best Guitar Intro’s of All Time.

Day Tripper, Sunshine Of Your Love, Smoke On The Water, Heartbreaker, You Really Got Me …  Hendrix, Van Halen, Chuck Berry, Hetfield, Keef …   Some of the best riffs of all time courtesy the greatest riff-meisters of all time.

Most great songs have a ‘hook,’ something that grabs you, catches your attention, somehow makes you feel like you already know the song even when you’re hearing it for the first time.  Sometimes that hook is a riff, but not always.  Sometimes the hook doesn’t show up until part way through the song.  But looking at GW’s list, I’d have to say the winning formula has got to be to snag ‘em right away.

I Put A Time Bomb In Your Submarine

Let’s play a game.  Picture a band doing a long jam that kinda summarizes everything that’s au courant, you know, everything that’s going on around them.

OK, when I say au courant, I mean sometime around 1970, since that’s about where I’m stuck.

Anyway, imagine them doing a really good job, so good that you find yourself thinking, “gee, that bit could be Zeppelin, and that bit sounds like The Moody Blues, hmm was that Cream or Deep Purple, maybe Black Sabbath?”

I came up with Alice Cooper’s Halo of Flies.  How about you?

Whole Lotta Riffs

The beat: definitely.  The energy: probably.  The simplicity: most of the time.  The lyrics: often.  The audacity: goes without saying.  But what really sets a great rock song apart is the riff.  The hook that buries itself into your DNA, where it forevermore acts as a switch, a trigger, a hypnotist’s command.

BBC Radio’s Greatest Guitar Riffs have most of the ones you’d expect: Whole Lotta Love, Sweet Child O’ Mine, Back In Black, Smoke On The Water and Layla landing in the top 5.  Can’t really argue with those.

And as you scan down the list, you realize – joyfully, I’ll bet – just how much great music we’ve been blessed with.  Dire Straits, Pink Floyd, Hendrix, Chuck Berry, Rush, Free, Fleetwood Mac, Cream … on and on it goes.  I can’t think of one riff on this list that doesn’t deserve to be here.

However, it is nothing short of shocking that the Stones and Beatles have only one entry each.  Nice of the BBC to spread the joy, but I can think of another dozen or so riffs from those two groups that are more than worthy.  Nevermind.  I’ll get over it.

Sad, though, that there’s nothing current.  Rock riffs seem to have gone the way of the dodo, and that is not a good thing.

Matchstick Men

January, 1968.  A psychedelic pop song called Pictures of Matchstick Men hits the charts, and man, was it trippy.   Vaguely drug-related lyrics, wah-wah guitar, and one of the early examples of the phaser effect.  OK, it was closer to bubble-gum than, say Cream or Led Zeppelin, but it was cool.

And then they were gone.

Fast forward to July, 1985.  Along with nearly two billion of my closest friends, I watched Live Aid.  The Wembley section of the concert opens up with this high energy bunch of British rockers who don’t seem to have left the 60’s.  They remind me of The Kinks, or any number of British Invasion groups I’d forgotten.  Didn’t catch their name, but they put on a great set.

And then they were gone.

Fast forward to early this century.  I’ve entered the digital age and I’m surfing the web looking for old tunes I once had on vinyl but can’t find on CD.  I go looking for Pictures of Matchstick Men, and find dozens of songs by Status Quo.  Oh!  That was that band from Live Aid.  Why didn’t I know about this?

From the 60’s through the 90’s, these guys reflected back a little of what was popular, but never wavered from their honest delivery of straight-ahead, stand-up, rock ‘n’ roll.

Funny how they never made it this side of the Atlantic.  They seem have a loyal following in the U.K. and elsewhere in Europe, and they deliver a similar brand of music to many other bands – British and American – that have made it and endured.  It’s a pity.  These guys should have been rockin’ all over the world.

I’m On My Knees

I may not hold him up quite as high as I do some other blues guitar legends, but I’ll tell you this much:  Buddy Guy’s Baby Please Don’t Leave is the best blues recording so far this millennium.

It’s got a hypnotic groove, a trippy atmosphere, raw, emotional vocals, and near perfect guitar.  Buddy somehow pulls together a sound that blends the best of Hendrix, Clapton, Page and himself, and erects it on the rock of the Delta.

It’s a long, painful, wailing triumph.  Respect.

Baby Please Don’t Go

Here’s a list that reminds us there is a lot of wonderful music outside the ridiculously short playlists of commercial radio:  Gibson’s 10 Great Bands That Ended Too Soon.

Predictably (and correctly) the list includes the likes of Nirvana, The Doors and The Clash, but it also includes bands that are all but forgotten, such as Alice Cooper, New York Dolls, J. Geils and The Faces.  These bands don’t get near enough airplay.

My only complaint is: what about Cream?  Talk about a great band that didn’t last long enough!  If Clapton had died in a plane crash the night before their final U.S.  concert in 1968, we’d still be weeping.

Nice to see The Beatles on the list, though.  Even though their body of work dwarfs everyone else mentioned, nothing wrong with some self-indulgent, “ya, but they could have given us so much more” thinking.  It’s only love.

Hoochie Coochie Man

Q: What do Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Cream, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, Steppenwolf, the Allman Brothers, Otis Rush, Gary Moore, Koko Taylor, Canned Heat, the Stones, Steve Miller, the Animals, Tom Petty, Sam Cooke, Little Walter, Bo Diddley, Elvis, and the Everly Brothers all have in common?

A: Willie Dixon.  They all recorded Willie Dixon songs, per Gibson’s 10 Great Willie Dixon Songs.

Oh, and Paul Butterfield, Savoy Brown, Ten Years After, Etta James, the Pointer Sisters, Jeff Beck, James Cotton, Hendrix, Megadeth and the White Stripes.

That’s quite a list.  A hall of fame, who’s-who, Desert Island, best-ever-playlist kind of list.

You can make your case for Robert Johnson, or Muddy or B.B. as the most influential blues musician of all time, but when it comes to blues songwriting, no one else comes close.  It’s Willie Dixon that make the world wanna know what this all about.

Pretzel Logic

I have doubtless made it clear by now that I preferred Cream over Led Zeppelin, and Clapton over Page, but have I ever explained why I like Led Zeppelin I better than any Cream album?

That’s because I can’t.

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.

Far Out, Man

According to Wikipedia, psychedelic music covers a range of styles and genres, is inspired by psychedelic (drug) culture, and emerged in the mid-60’s among folk rock and blues rock bands.  Wikipedia also notes that these bands went to on to create prog rock, heavy metal and a bunch of other new genres.  But you knew all that.

The article mentions a bunch of bands you’d expect – The Beatles, Floyd, Hendrix, The Byrds – but no Led Zeppelin.

Ya?  So go listen to How Many More Times.  Seems to me that, exotic instrumentation excepted, this song has most of the characteristics listed: complex song structure, strange lyrics, extended solos, distorted guitar, wah wah, elaborate studio effects …  this song is a trip.

It’s always bugged me that Zeppelin was jammed into the heavy metal pigeon hole.  I get the name and their influence and all that, but they had too much depth and range.  And for my money, Zeppelin I is every bit as trippy as Pepper, Are You Experienced?, or Disraeli Gears.

Just goes to show that labels don’t mean nothin’. 

Hey!  Wait a minute!  Cream doesn’t get a mention in the article either.  Guess it needs some updating.

A Big Deal

This is not, repeat not a political statement:  FDR’s New Deal was the best thing that ever happened to music.

Stay with me.  Without the New Deal’s “make work” projects, Alan Lomax would not have been sent out to collect folk music.  If Alan Lomax hadn’t done that, we might never have heard of Son House, Robert Johnson, Lead Belly, Doc Boggs, Big Bill Broonzy and Skip James.  Woody Guthrie might be an interesting footnote.

If the folk music, white and black, of the south had not been captured and exposed to a broader audience, the Chicago Blues as we know it might never have come into being, “race music” and rhythm and blues might never have been noticed by white kids.  There might never have been a folk revival in the 50’s.

No delta blues?  Nothing in Chicago?  No folk revival?  No:

Beatles

Rolling Stones

Bob Dylan

Led Zeppelin

Cream

Animals

Shall I go on?

Elvis, Chuck Berry, Carl Perkins…  life, and culture, as we know it would simply not exist.

I can’t imagine a better use of government money.  Big Bird might just agree.

Decades

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I got to thinking about how your perceptions and loyalties change over time, and decided to fill in this matrix of who my favourite artists were decade by decade.  It came out like this:

 

Some time bending was required to jam things into the decade pigeonhole, and some revisionism is at work here.  Looking back as each decade turned over, I definitely would not have listed the Stones as my second favourite band of the preceding ten years.  The third place band would have been #2, and the likes of Deep Purple, Pink Floyd and The Cars – or maybe The Police – and Bonnie Raitt would have shown up.  Oh, and John Lee Hooker, just a few decades late.

But this is a pretty accurate reflection of how I would rank the music as I listen to it now.

A coupla “Ya I knows”:

1. The Stones have not really done anything since Voodoo Lounge, or arguably Tattoo You.  But somehow they remain cool and the concert DVD’s are fun.

2. Not a lot of newness in the past 20 years.  Yep.  I’m getting’ old.  What can I say?

Tired of Waiting

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Why have I taken so long to write something about The Kinks?

Maybe that’s my pattern.  I noticed them during the first British Invasion, of course.  And they seemed to hold their own during the transition from rock ‘n’ roll to psychedelic.  I remember playing Well Respected Man in my band when I was in Grade 8.

But then they got pushed aside during the second invasion, displaced by the likes of Cream, Zeppelin, Hendrix and Deep Purple.  Yes, I know Hendrix was American, but he arrived from England, didn’t he?

Like so many others, The Kinks just didn’t register on the new hard rock scale.  After Lola, they were gone and forgotten.

Ah, but they weren’t gone.  While everyone was dicking around with Prog Rock and Metal and Disco, they were out there, staying (mostly) true to their rock ‘ n’ roll roots.  And somewhere in the late-ish 70’s, when Punk had said “enough!” and radio stations began giving airtime to the likes of Steve Miller, Linda Ronstadt and Tom Petty, The Kinks resurfaced.

And, longing as I was for something less pompous and silly.  I finally, really noticed them.  A string of great albums, beginning with Misfits, helped them ride the New Wave well into the 80’s when, along with rock ‘n’ roll, they faded again.  Having finally become a fan, I hoped they might resurface one more time during the all-too-brief Garage Band thing in the early 90’s, but to no avail.  That wish turned out to be a rock & roll fantasy.

Now they’re gone, un-rescued by the local village green preservation societies.  Maybe that’s a good thing, ‘cause at least we’re being spared one more fossilized group out on tour.  I dunno.

Listen: I know I’m doing some revisionist history here, suggesting The Kinks were fabulous from start to finish.  They disappeared from most of our radars in the late 60’s and early 70’s because their dabbling in the emerging styles was unsuccessful.  But when they went back to what they did well, they gave us a big batch of terrific music.

They may have been surpassed by others in terms of both impact and longevity, but there are times when I could listen to their music all day and all of the night.

Under the Apex

That earlier post about U2 being the last great rock band got me thinking about who gets on the list, relative positioning, etc..

So if we stick with “larger than life” as one category, what’s below that?  I’d have to say “huge and influential.”  Really good.  Not quite larger than life.  As good or better than the “larger than life” folks, but never quite got there.  Maybe broke up or died too soon.

Below that?  Well, important.  Maybe not as big in our consciousness as those in the “huge” category, but very influential.  Just ask the folks on the “huge” list.

Below that would be the legions of acts you really like but …

Throw this all into a graphic and you get something like this:

 

The Beatles, of course, are larger than larger than life.  This is about perception more than taste, but I assume few would argue with the top two tiers.  Notice my indecision on The Police.  Almost got there, but not quite in my book anyway.

Notice my cop-outs on Dylan and Michael Jackson.  I know many would place them along with The Beatles.  Solid arguments could be made for any of the categories, so maybe this is more about taste than perception.

I didn’t get lazy in the “important” category; I just ran out of real estate.  There are simply too many influential blues greats, Motown artists and early rockers to list.  And maybe that’s the point of the graphic; it’s less about ranking and more about connecting.

Your taste – or perception – will differ from mine, so you may have different names, or different positions.  That’s cool.  Go build your own pyramid,