Take A Breath

I’ve been trying to think of something nice to say about the saxophone for most of my life, and I finally got it: on some of David Gilmour’s best guitar solos, you can tell that he also plays the sax.

So Many People In The Same Device

Have a listen to Nice Nice Very Nice by Ambrosia (and Kurt Vonnegut).

Here are the lyrics:

Oh a sleeping drunkard
Up in Central Park
Or the lion hunter
In the jungle dark
Or the Chinese dentist
Or the British Queen
They all fit together
In the same machine

Nice, nice, very nice
Nice, nice, very nice
So many people in the same device

Oh a whirling dervish
And a dancing bear
Or a Ginger Rogers and a Fred Astaire
Or a teenage rocker
Or the girls in France
Yes, we all are partners in this cosmic dance

Nice, nice, very nice
Nice, nice, very nice
So many people in the same device

Amen.

You Can’t Do That

So, Armand Leroi, a professor at Imperial College London, has concluded that The Beatles had virtually no influence on pop music, having had computers analyze hits from 1960 through 2010.

To which I would say this:  At every step of their career, The Beatles absorbed the music around them, assimilating each style, giving it new life from the raw force of pure rock and roll. Each addition created new opportunities for other artists, which The Beatles then heard and absorbed in turn. And on and on it went.  That’s what you call music evolution.

Computer analysis is irrelevant.  The record shows that all the major artists over that half century have acknowledged the influence The Beatles had on them, and The Beatles freely and frequently acknowledged who they were listening to and learning from.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Do You Believe In Magic

It used to be when you bought a new album and put it on, you expected to be astonished.

Somebody Holds The Key

Eric Clapton was the face of blues rock for more than a generation.  Steve Winwood stood tall within the pantheon of prog rock immortals.

Yet they gave us Can’t Find My Way Home, a haunting, rapturous, achingly beautiful folk song.

Good work, fellas.

ps – yes, I’ve written about this song before.  It’s just that kinda song, ya know?

I May Make You Feel, But I Can’t Make You Think

Prog Rock is an interesting genre.  Sometimes a band (or song) can blow you away with its imagination and musicianship.  Sometimes a band (or song) can leave you feeling, “What are they trying to prove?”

And reactions tend to be both extreme, and extremely personal.  One person’s “Man, this is so good,” can be another’s “How can you even listen to that?”

My favourite bit of self-indulgent showing off is Thick As A Brick by Jethro Tull.  You may agree, laugh uproariously, or hurl as you see fit, but for me it’s an amazing tour de force, as complex as any classical symphony or opera.

The transitions from section to section (and there are a lot of them) are seamless.  The intricacy of the arrangement is impressive.  And the tightness of the band is second to none.

Perhaps what’s most impressive, though, is that those cats played the entire piece live (I saw them do so in 1973), and they were just as tight as the record.

Love it or hate it, the one thing prog rock will do is impress you with the skill of the musicians.

Relax and Float Downstream

Here’s some Socratic reasoning:  Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles is an R&B tune because it has a hypnotic, driving beat.  It is also a folk song because it’s carried by simple strumming on an acoustic guitar.  But it’s pretty heavy, so you could argue it’s a rock song.  Or compromise and call it folk rock. 

Then again it’s very trippy, so really it’s psychedelic rock – or maybe even early prog rock, since it lifts from other genres and quotes strange modalities.

Or you could say it’s all of those things, which happens to nicely sum up The Beatles.  Now, if you can say a single song can represent the diverse canon of the best group of all time, then obviously that song is the best song of all time.

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.

Genrification

Speaking of genres (well, I was two posts ago), wasn’t it all so much easier when we though of everything as just pop – or rock ‘n’ roll (take your pick)?

But this genre thing is outta control.

I mean, I get that Easy Listening and Pop and Rock and Folk and R&B and Hip Hop just don’t cross paths too much any more(except maybe on awards shows).  I’m inured to the fact that rock has gone through all this cell division so we’ve got Folk Rock, Punk, Metal, Alternative, Prog, Indie and so on and so on and even more so on.

I’ve slowly come top recognize that we need additional labels such as House and Psychobilly, and Emo and Hardcore.  I guess they serve a purpose.

But brother, when I browse some online music sites, I’m overwhelmed by all these weird genres:  Doom?  Sleaze?  Sadcore?  Red Dirt?

Really?  What are these about?

OK, you can kinda guess what Melodic Death might be like, or Screamo, or Horrorcore, or Trip Hop.  Gothabilly you can almost picture (or hear, I guess).  Ditto Acid Folk, even Swamp.  I think.

And it turns out most ‘em have entries in Wikipedia, so I suppose there’s more than one band doing them.  But simple folk like me have to be enlightened as to why we need Shoegaze, Glitch or Grime.

But some of this sub-genrification is kinda pointless isn’t it?  I mean, Wikipedia defines Street Punk as “a working class-based genre of punk rock.”  Hello?  Was normal Punk something reserved for the upper class?  Like The Sex Pistols gave us music for Toffs?

Maybe some of these bands are just trying to distinguish themselves in ways that don’t involve their actual music.  Maybe they’re having us on.   Noir?  Heartfelt and Lyrical?  Youtube?  Jack Daniels?

I think I need a swig.

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?

No One Here Gets Out Alive

In each of the six decades since the birth of rock and roll, you can find some magic, and you can shake your head and wonder how anybody could listen to such rubbish. 

But for me, the 70’s is the big enigma.  Some of the best rock, much of it indelibly stamped into the concrete of our collective consciousness, was made in that decade.  And I couldn’t do without it.  But it was a confusing decade, one with little or no direction, a time of extremes and excesses.

Hard rock, prog rock, power pop, funk, metal, disco, jazz fusion, punk, folk-rock, singer-songwriter … and the leisure suits.  Brother.

The 70’s were not kind to a lot of 60’s icons.  The Stones, Clapton, and The Who, for example, all had their moments, but really they drifted through with mixed results.  Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd triumphantly pushed through, and then collapsed at the finish line.  Deep Purple didn’t make it.  The Beatles and Hendrix didn’t even get out of the starting block.

The energy that began as punk and coalesced into New Wave was certainly welcome.  It brought some much-needed focus to all that aimless thrashing about.  To borrow from Rossini’s invective against Wagner, the 70’s had wonderful moments, and dreadful quarters of an hour.

A Hunger Still Unsatisfied

Are you older than, say, 30?  Got regrets?  Feel like a part of you is lost?  Still trying to find yourself – in the future, the present, the past?  Or … want your spirit crushed?

Go listen to High Hopes by Pink Floyd.  They’ve done a lot of songs about loss, but this one is the champ.

A life consumed by slow decay.  Steps taken forward but sleepwalking back again.  Encumbered forever by desire and ambition.  Our weary eyes … the grass was greener … the water flowing … the endless river … sheesh!

Poignant poetry, a moody tune with a haunting, tolling bell, impeccable Floyd production, and perhaps David Gilmour’s most heartbreaking guitar solo.  I cannot listen to this song without weeping.

Sad, cathartic, and absolutely beautiful.  By the way, the accompanying music video is one of the most amazing videos of all time.

The light was brighter.

The Miracle

OK, so the greatest songs by one band list is becoming something less of a novelty, since Rolling Stone has now added Queen’s 10 Greatest Songs. 

Not that I’m arguing against it.  Monster band.  Killer songs, as the list aptly shows.

All the biggies are there:  Killer Queen, The Show Must Go On, Under Pressure, Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Somebody To Love, Fat Bottomed Girls, and of course, Bohemian Rhapsody.

Two things jump out at my about this list:

1) They had too many huge hits to cram into a top 10 list.  Missing in action, for

    example, are Radio Ga Ga, Tie Your Mother Down and everyone’s favourite

    sports arena song, We Will Rock You.  You’d add your own, no doubt.

2) The breadth of these guys was amazing.  Prog, metal, pop, rockabilly,

   Broadway…  Wow.

We still miss you, Freddie.  You were one of our best friends.

Wring That Neck

Ritchie Blackmore is probably the best guitarist to never top a best-ever list, and I confess I’m just as guilty as the next person.

I was a huge fan, of course.  From Shades of through Burn, a period of almost seven years, Deep Purple would have been in my Top Three Bands list.  And I was always amazed, astonished, over-awed by Blackmore’s playing – but he never dented my favourite guitarists list.

I’m still not sure why.  Too much shredding (albeit before the term came into use)?  Really weird notes?  Impenetrable, unapproachably angry persona?  (Slightly) inferior songs to solo?

All of the above, probably, but it still doesn’t excuse the implied lack of respect.  His wow factor can top Hendrix, his that-was-surprising-but-those-were-just-the-right-notes ability could rival Clapton’s, and his duets with John Lord were pure magic.

It’s a mystery.  He’s a mystery, one as big as his choice of notes.  It’s got me chasing shadows.

Just Nod If You Can Hear Me

Back on the sad songs.   Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb does a spectacularly morose job of summarizing the human condition.

When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb

Ouch!  Life is a pointless, hopeless big tease, only coming through in waves, and we can’t hear it.

Is there anyone at home?  No.  You are receding.  We are all alone.

I mean, hopefully most of us don’t feel this way too often, but we all do just a little from time to time, right?

Depressing, frightening  - and definitely sad.

Passion Plays

The Rolling Stone readers’ poll on the 10 Best Prog Rock Albums of the 70’s has it all: songs of symphonic length, self-indulgent morality plays, virtuosity, technical wizardry – and absolutely no dancing.

And yes, I had most of these albums.

Prog rock was big in 70’s; probably too big.  So it’s curious that only 5 bands scooped up all 10 spots (2 each for Rush and Genesis, with the grand prize going to Pink Floyd with 4).  Or maybe not, because the albums listed were huge.

Definitely not:  ELP, Focus and Mike Oldfield didn’t age as well.

I might have swapped out Floyd’s Animals for Jethro Tull’s A Passion Play, though.  Tull’s sense of humour with the “Story of the hare that lost his spectacles” bit was kinda funny.  And let’s face it, Animals was hard work.

Eruptions

Gibson’s 10 Great Rock Instrumentals nicely illustrates at least one reason why instrumentals tend not to be as popular as songs: there are no words to sing along to, so that melody had better be extremely catchy.

Here’s the list:

Beck Bolero – Beck, Page et al

Black Mountain Side – Led Zeppelin

Jessica – Allman Brothers

Sparks – The Who

Rebel Rouser – Duanne Eddy

Frankenstein – Edgar Winter Group

Walk Don’t Run – The Ventures

Maggot Brain – Funkadelic

Mood for a Day – Steve Howe

Eruption – Van Halen

Make that two reasons:  you can’t dance to a lot of this stuff.  I mean, Mood for a Day is an impressive display of virtuosity, but does it get your toes tapping?

Maybe there are three reasons.  There’s a line somewhere that divides “appreciation” and “participation.  You listen to and appreciate a Brahms symphony or well-done bit of prog rock.  You sing along to a good folk song.  Pop/soul/rock ‘n’ roll?  You get up and dance while you’re singing.  While you might appreciate all the pieces on this list, you’re only going to participate in a couple of ‘em.

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.

Can’t Make You Think

Gibson’s 10 Great Concept Albums proves that the critics weren’t always right, and that the music wasn’t always pretentious.

OK, maybe that second bit is a stretch.

Here’s the list:

 1. The Who - Tommy

 2. Jethro Tull – Thick as a Brick

 3. Drive-By Truckers – Southern Rock Opera

 4. The Beatles – Sgt. Pepper’s

 5. Green Day – American Idiot

 6. Alice Cooper – Welcome to My Nightmare

 7. Dream Theatre – Metropolis Pt. 2 …

 8. Bowie – Ziggy Stardust

 9. Rush - 2112

10. Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon

All in all, a predictable list, though if the article had made a hard distinction between a concept album and a rock opera, it might have been more interesting.

Then again, in terms of success – not to mention astonishment that the band could actually perform it live – you can’t really ignore Tommy.  Or Thick as a Brick, or …

There’s a pretty broad spectrum here in terms of adherence to a “concept.”  At one end you’ve got a tightly knit story (Tommy) – or a single song, actually (Thick as a Brick).  At the other end you’ve got a loose collection of songs that, according to John Lennon, worked as a concept “because we said it worked.”

Anyway, it’s a fine list of masterpieces.  Pretentious?  Maybe.  But isn’t music a form of story telling, and if the story is a long one …

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.