Gotta Hear It Again Today

The three best covers of all time are:

1. All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, and 
2. All Along The Watchtower by Neil Young, and 
3. All Along The Watchtower by U2 

Okay, it’s actually Roll over Beethoven by The Beatles, but still …

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.

Listing, Listing …

I’ve recently been wondering why I don’t write as much about acoustic guitarists as their plugged-in friends, because the music I listen to probably contains as many acoustic guitars as electric.

Maybe it’s the wow factor of the electric guitar.  I dunno.

I don’t even have a Top Ten list.  Maybe it’s just too hard.

I mean, where do you start?  You could fill the list with the influential blues cats like Robert Johnson, Big Bill Broonzy, Son House or John Lee Hooker.  You could fill it with acoustic specialists like James Taylor, Bruce Cockburn, Cat Stevens, Harry Manx, Paul Simon or Donovan.  You could easily fill it with players who also play a mean electric guitar, like Clapton, Page, Knopfler, Bonamassa, Neil Young or Colin James.

Hmmm.  Plenty of wow factor in all those names.

I guess there’s the “defined the instrument/broke new ground” thing that gets applied to musicians on other instruments.  In that case, I suppose my list would be: Leadbelly, Johnson, Broonzy, Taylor, Simon, Donovan, Stevens, Cockburn, Young and Page.

But then I’d be omitting artist I listen to – and wonder, “how did he/she do that?” – a lot.  People like Clapton, Harry Manx, Arlo Guthrie and Bonnie Raitt.

To hell with lists.  I revere all the guitarists mentioned – them, and a lot more.

The Circle of Love

In Guitar World’s 30 on 30, 30 great guitarists pick their favourite axemen.

All the cats you’d expect to see are there:  Green, Clapton, Blackmore, Beck, Hendrix, May, van Halen, B.B., Rhoads, Malmsteen …

As are, thankfully, a few guys you worry might be all but forgotten, like Leslie West, Alvin Lee and Mick Taylor.  And there are a few names you might not expect to be the idols of guitar wizards, for example Neil Young or Pete Townshend or George Harrison.  Not that they weren’t/aren’t amazing guitarists, but you don’t realize the hotshots feel the same way as you do.  So that’s cool.

But what’s really interesting is to see who the guys on the list like.  So:

• Tom Morello likes Steve Vai, and Steve Vai likes Brian May.
• Joe Perry likes Angus Young, but Angus likes Chuck Berry.
• Ron Thal likes Zakk Wylde, whereas Zakk Wylde likes the Judas Priest duo of Tipton and Downing.
• Richie Kotzen digs Eddie van Halen, who in turn thought Clapton was the man.

Sometimes you can clearly hear a guitarist’s influences in his work; other times, not so much.  So it’s instructive to see what they actually think.  And sometimes surprising.

The Bad, The Ugly & The Good

When you’re listening to a song and it comes to the guitar solo, do you ever think to yourself, “Boy!  What a bad guitar solo, but it’s good.  I like it?” 

I’m not talkin’ about uninspired or lame.  I’m talkin’ awful, as in, “What’s he doin’?”

For me, a prime example would be Eight Miles High by the Byrds.  Every time I hear it, my initial reaction is, “Sheesh!  That’s the worst good guitar solo ever.”  But by the end of the solo, I’m thinking, “I dig it.  It really fits.”  Which is the ultimate compliment for a guitar solo.

Neil Young’s also excels at being not so good in a compellingly good sort of way.  As does Robby Krieger of the Doors, Dave Davies, John Lee Hooker, and a cat named John Lennon.

It’s a taste thing, of course.  But it’s interesting how we can embrace music that falls short of our personal standard of what constitutes “good.”  One more of the many mysteries of music.

Got Live If You Want It

As the introduction to Rolling Stone’s 50 Greatest Live Albums of All Time says, it’s impossible to capture the frenzy (and I would add joy) of a great live show on record.  But as the list shows, there have been some awesome live recordings.

Confession:  in general, I have always preferred studio albums, because the sound quality is better, there’s less self-indulgence from the band, and the mistakes land on the cutting room floor.  But I still enjoy a good performance, and I love going to concerts.

The list has something to satisfy just about every musical taste, and it includes some career-establishing performances.  But for me, its main virtue is that it serves as a healthy reminder that music is meant to be enjoyed live.

Rockumentary Heaven

Rolling Stone’s 40 Greatest Rock Documentaries nicely illustrates just how much good video is out there to enjoy.

Dylan, Page, White, U2, Rush, Bowie, Neil Young, James Brown, The Stones, Hendrix, The Who, Zep, Floyd, a little band out of Liverpool called The Beatles  - they’re all there.

Kinda like my desert island playlist, but without enough blues and folk.

Some masterpieces (Talking Heads), some silliness (Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus), some cultural chronicles (Monterey, Woodstock), and a lot of great music.

The list has something for everyone, so I won’t complain, other than to say I would have included:

The Concert For George – my favourite concert video, period

AC/DC Live at Donnington – killer performance, surpassed only by

Queen Live At Wembley – Freddie’s control over the audience is simply mesmerizing.

Speaking of which, there’s a lot of rubbish (OK, music that didn’t age too well) on the Live Aid video, but some of it is great, so it deserves at least an honourable mention.  Maybe?

The Second Time Around

Most of us have a few records/tapes/CD’s/MB of memory that are basically collecting dust because we:

1) Were blown away by someone’s debut album, and so …

2) Rushed to buy the second album, then went ‘oops!’

In many cases, it seems the more amazing the first album was, the easier it was to be disappointed with the second.  Maybe it goes back to the adage that bands have their whole lives to come up with that first album but no time for the next one.  Whatever the cause, a flop the second time around can be fatal.  Lots of one hit wonders probably released more than one record.  We just ignored them.

Rolling Stone’s 20 Best Second Albums provides a list of happy exceptions, albums that were every bit as good – or even better – than the debuts.  Examples from the list include second efforts by Neil Young, Springsteen, Radiohead, Elvis Costello, Dylan, Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, The Band, and Nirvana.

Yeah, I know these acts are all legendary and most people cherish their entire catalogues, but what if that second album had been awful?  Maybe then the legend is stillborn.  Or maybe the examples listed nicely illustrate why these acts became legends.  “You that was good?  OK, have a listen to this!”

Three Chords and the Truth

All I’ve got is a red guitar, three chords and the truth

All I’ve got is a red guitar, the rest is up to you

The above lyric, inserted into U2’s rendition of Dylan’s All Along the Watchtower, got me thinking about the power of music and art to rise above simple entertainment and get us worked up about serious issues.

OK, I’m as guilty as the next person as far as not wanting to be lectured, and sometimes musicians, actors, etc. can get a bit too full of themselves.  But I’ve never subscribed to the notion that artists should just shut up and perform.  As Neil Young would say, “What?  Just because I’m a singer means I’m not entitled to an opinion?”

Anyway, if art is a reflection of life, how can art not be making a statement?

So here’s to Bono, and Dylan, and Lennon, and Springsteen, and Young, and Woody, and Marley, and all the other cats that have the courage to tell it like it is.

The rest is up to us.

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.

Transformer Man

Interesting list from Gibson on Shocking Detours by Major Artists.  You know, like, where did that come from?  That’s not what I expect or want to hear.  How dare he/she/they?  That kind of thing.

Here’s the list:

Neil Young – Trans

Stones – Their Satanic Majesties Request

Todd Rundgren – With a Twist

Lou Reed – Metal Machine Music

David Bowie – Young Americans

Sly Tone – There’s a Riot Goin’ On

Kiss – Music from “The Elder”

Springsteen – Nebraska

Yes – 90125

Johnny Cash – American Recordings

Well, some of these records certainly did shock.  Some were dramatic departures from what you’d expect.  Maybe some were even bad ideas.

Not all of ‘em, though.  I mean, disco was in full swing and Bowie morphed from Ziggy Stardust to white R&B.  I don’t remember anyone being too surprised, especially since he did it with such credibility.

And Trans?  By 1982, could anyone seriously be shocked by anything Neil Young did?  The same could be said about Rundgren and Springsteen – or Cash for that matter.  The word fearless comes to mind, and it could be applied at any point in their careers.

As for Satanic Majesties, well, it was just a bad idea.  The Stones were obsessed with The Beatles.  Everyone was.  They did their best Pepper , and just didn’t have it in ‘em.  It’s not who they were.  Shocking?  Ya, shockingly bad.  But a departure?  Nope, we all could see it coming.

Highway 61 Revisited Revisited

Gibson’s When Rockers Cover Dylan points out that the man has provided a gold mine of material for other artists.

It lists some great examples, some interesting analysis, and a variation on the “be true to the original, but make it your own” mantra: “completely restructure it until it sounds like you.”  Dunno about the “completely restructure it” part, but “sounds like you” is right.

The examples include:

Hendrix – Watchtower

Johnny Winter – Highway 61 Revisited

George Harrison – If Not For You

The Byrds – Mr. Tambourine Man

GNR – Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

I guess the winner is All Along the Watchtower, because covers by Hendrix, Dave Matthews and U2 all get a mention (I would add, BTW, a great live version by Neil Young from Dylan’s 30^th Anniversary Tribute concert).

In terms of the “be true to the original, but make it your own” cliché

-       Hendrix and Winter take the prize for outright theft

-       The Byrds and George provide the best examples by doing a straight cover that nevertheless sounds like themselves

-       I wish no one – including Clapton – had covered Knockin’ on Heavens’ Door.  Dylan’s version is unbeatable.

But that’s maybe the only such song on the list.  I’ve always felt that a good song had a life of it’s own, and Dylan has provided a bunch of examples.  He might have created them – or opened a door through which they entered our lives – but once they arrived, they kind of became everybody’s songs.

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.

Oh, Just Nevermind

Well, they say your musical tastes are pretty much chiseled in stone by the age of 16, so no big surprise that I only knew the names of 27 of Rolling Stone's 100 Best Albums of the 90's, the decade when I left my 30’s – still kicking – and entered my 40’s, more or less screaming, I guess.

I mean, I probably recognize 80 or so of the artists by name, but the actual album names?  A paltry 27.  And that’s based on, you know, name recognition on the radio (possibly before I changed the station) or browsing for CD’s in the record store.

Remember CD’s?  In stores?

27.  Recognized.  By name.  Ownership?  Well, less than that.  A lot less.  And I bought a ton of CD’s in the 90’s.  A boatload.

Look:  I wasn’t entirely out of it.  I had some Nirvana, Petty, Oasis, Neil Young, REM, U2 and Red Hot Chili Peppers.  That’s not so bad, right?  And, you know, I kinda liked Pearl Jam and Soundgarden and Radiohead and Metallica.  That’s good, isn’t it?

And of course I love Dylan and Springsteen and The Stones, and they’re on the list (although come one, RS, Bridges To Babylon and not Voodoo Lounge?  Really?) – so, I was, like, not in a cave or anything.

But 27% sort of makes it official: I had given up.  I had grown old.  My score on the Top 10 (60%) is cold comfort.  Crap.

I always knew that rock/pop is for young people, but retreating to “well the music was better in the 60’s (or 70’s (for the most part), or the 80’s (at least for a time)) – even though it was – is, is, is oh nevermind.

No point in raging against the machine.  I’m not ready to die and I know I’m not out of time.   OK Computer, how we gonna handle this?

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.

Dude, What’s That Chord?

Gibson’s Top 10 Songs For Six-String Beginners brings back some memories.

It’s the list of songs all beginners start with, the ones that drive the music store employees and patrons nuts, they say.

Here’s the list:

Sweet Child O’ Mine – GNR

Eruption – Van Halen

Wild Thing – The Troggs

Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door – Dylan

Rockin’ In The Free World – Neil Young

Smoke On The Water – Deep Purple

Iron Man – Sabbath

Seventh Nation Army – White Stripes

Working Class Hero – John Lennon

No Rain – Blind Melon

Eruption?  Really?  For beginners?

Wild Thing would have been on the list when I started out.  As would House Of The Rising Sun, Satisfaction, Gloria, Twist And Shout, Blowing In The Wind, Spoonful, Whole Lotta Love and Purple Haze.

And, like Smoke On The Water, who ever learned all of Purple Haze?

Interesting that Lennon replaced The Beatles and Dylan replaced himself.

At my school, guitar players were a community, and we all taught stuff to each other – even if it was wrong.  There was no internet, there were no tabs, no YouTube lessons, and if you picked up the needle and dropped it too many times, you would toast the record.  If you could afford it you could buy sheet music and songbooks, but the riffs were always missing and the chords were usually wrong.

Still not sure about Eruption, but what I hear kids playing in music stores definitely reflects a higher level of skill than it was in my day.  Chalk one up for the internet. 

I hope the community thing is still going on, though.  That was the best part of learning.

Cultural Icons

We like to touch them.  We like to play on them.  Sometimes, it’s a thrill just to look at them.

Get your mind out of the gutter.  Mainly, we like to hear them.

I refer to the Rolling Stone list of 20 Iconic Guitars.

Some obvious choices: McCartney’s Hofner Violin bass, B.B.’s Lucille, Les Paul squared, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s poor abused strat, Bo Diddley’s Cigar Box, Neil Young’s Old Black, Springsteen’s Esquire, What’s-His-Name’s What-Is-That?

Some I guess-so’s:  Eric Clapton’s Blackie (really, couldn’t it be any strat – since the 60’s when it could have been any Gibson?), Jimmy Page’s Doubleneck (undoubtedly iconic, but I always picture his Les Paul when I think of him), Keef’s Micawber (ya, he likes Tele’s, but he has like ten million guitars of all makes and models, right?), Lonnie Mack’s Flying V (hmmm, not Albert King?)

One WTF?: George Harrison’s 12 String Rickenbacker (George changed guitars for practically every album!  How about John’s Rickenbacker?)

To be iconic means the association has to be a strong one.  Frequently used or seen, or played at a seminal event (like Hendrix’s Monterey strat, as opposed to all the other strats).  So most of the guitars on the list make sense.  Some, though, seem to have been chosen to get the iconic player on the list.

They’re all cool though.  I do like to watch.

Hey Hey My My

Whoever thinks rock and roll is dead should take the matter up with the 17,000 fans who crowded around me, whooping it up at a recent concert I saw featuring Death Cab For Cutie and The Tragically Hip.

Rock and roll can never die.

Good News For Denver

I started playing with my U.S. music map, plotting where I thought some British artists would land. It looks like this:
 

I've already described how I thought The Beatles belonged in Ohio to reflect their

twin influences of Nashville and Motown, and how Cat Stevens sounds to me like a blend between Memphis and Motown.

The Stones? Chicago and Memphis, so they're neighbours of the Cat.

Eric Clapton's ancestors came from The Delta, Chicago and Texas, placing him somewhere on the Arkansas/Oklahoma border.

U2 and The Kinks split that Motown pop sensibility with a NY punk attitude, putting the somewhere in Penn state (OK, let's give U2 to Buffalo).

Bands like ELO and Queen blend that Motown pop gift with the Hollywood production thing (and jazz complexity), placing them squarely in the middle of the country.

Cream and The Animals blended their love of Chicago blues with a touch of California weirdness, making them natives of Colorado (there you go Denver). Zeppelin: about the same but with a pull from The Delta.

Deep Purple and Pink Floyd have lots of the Hollywood production and complexity, with a bit of pull from the eastern styles, which I guess lands them in the southwestern desert.

Neil Young lands in West Virgina (sorry Winnipeg), given an equal pull from Nashville and NY. And yes, I know he's Canadian.

Elvis Costello? A bit more NY punk.

Dire Straits? Nashville, Memphis, Delta.

Van Morrison: Memphis, Delta (maybe a bit of Motown?)

David Bowie was tough. NY punk and Motown pop pulling hard against California - landing him in Nashville of all places.

Hmmm ... there's a whole new twist on the idea of "Music City."