Sounds Like …

Here’s an obvious truth: although they covered a lot of ground over many years (not enough, in the case of The Beatles), The Beatles always sound like The Beatles, and The Rolling Stones always sound like The Rolling Stones.

But here’s the thing:  what made them so darn good is that they could do anybody else.  The Beatles do Roy Orbison and come up with Please Please Me.  They do Dylan and come up with You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away.  They start jamming Fleetwood Mac’s Green Manalishi and arrive at Sun King.

Same thing with The Stones.  While always true to their blues roots, they’ve absorbed and played back: Rock and Roll, British Invasion, Country, Folk Rock, Psychedelic, Hard Rock, Jazz Fusion – and just about everything that ever came out of Motown, Memphis and Muscle Shoals.  I know some cynics who think The Stones sold out and became silly by trying to stay relevant in the late 70’s as the world shifted into Disco and then 80’s R&B, but I disagree.

What I hear is a great band saying, “Yeah, we can do that.  Listen!”  And then they prove it by serving up a classic example of the style.  But even as the do that, they remind you they’re still The Stones.  The riffs, the grit, the guitar bi-play, the self-caricaturing vocals – they’re all there.  Miss You is both vintage Disco and vintage Stones.  Rock and A Hard Place sounds like it could have been recorded by Robert Palmer, but the presence of Keith and Ronnie make it better.  And just to drive the point home, they give us Sad Sad Sad on the same album.  “So much for this ‘new’ R&B thing.  Now here’s some rock and roll.”

Paul McCartney’s solo career proves that if The Beatles had lasted longer, they too would have remained relevant by continuing to listen to the new music around them, absorbing it, and the giving it back to us as fresh magic.

The Beatles and The Stones prove that you develop your own style by absorbing the music around you, and you evolve that style by continuing to listen.

Dream Baby

Growing up, I never knew what to make of Roy Orbison.  Oh Pretty Woman was a great rocker, but it didn’t quite have the same edge as contemporary Beatles or Stones songs.  And the rest of his canon seemed better suited to my parents’ radio station than mine.

I know his tenor voice was operatic, but all those strings!  Sure, it was the doo-wop era, and rock had been tamed, bottled and homogenized, but where were the twangy guitars?  Where was the attitude?  Roy Orbison seemed more like Gene Pitney or Shelley Fabares than Elvis or Chuck Berry.

Pretty good with the sad songs, though.

Maybe it was just the production values of the time.  Much later on, in the 80’s working with Jeff Lynne, Roy proved he could rock out with the Travelling Willburys and U2.  And if you’ve ever seen Black and White Night, I’m sure you’ll agree his old classics sparked some great rock and roll moments when supported by the likes of Springsteen, Bonnie Raitt and Elvis Costello.

Ringo has said that Roy was the only act The Beatles didn’t want to follow.  With a different producer in a different era, Roy Orbison could have had ‘em all running scared.  Except it’s obvious everybody loved him just the way he was.

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?

Sad Songs (Part 2 ... or 3)

OK, so a few songs I overlooked the first time out, and so here's a more complete list:

I Can't Make You Love Me and Matters of the Heart, by Bonnie Raitt

Romeo and Juliet, by Dire Straits

You're Missing, by Bruce Springsteen

Love In Vain, and St. James Infirmary – anyone’s version

Walk Away Rene, by The Left Bank (or Temptations)

Accidently Like a Martyr, by Warren Zevon

Humble Me, either Harry Manx's or Norah Jones's version.

Love Hurts and Crying, by Roy Orbison

Don't Fade On Me, by Tom Petty


No particular order.  They all get to me every time.  And, in terms of tear induction, Here Today by Paul McCartney is the hands-down winner.  Don't know how I forgot that one.

Great songs, all of 'em.  They just hurt so good.