There’s No Need For Argument

 

Van Morrison deserves respect as a songwriter, but I wish his songs had been recorded by Springsteen.  Take, for example, Domino.

Strumming With The Rhythm …

My favourite rock and roll songs are:

1) Johnny B Goode 

2) Roll over Beethoven 

3) The last (rock and roll) song I heard by:

• The Beatles 
• Led Zeppelin 
• Tom Petty 
• AC/DC
• The Who 
• The Kinks 
• The Police 
• The Rolling Stones 
• Queen 
• U2
• Chuck Berry, obviously 

Oh, or Elvis, CCR, Buddy Holly, Springsteen, Dire Straits or ...

Nowhere To Run

No matter how many times I hear it, Born In The USA gets under my skin.  I’m not even American, but the story, the heartache, the anguish  … they’re universal.

It’s also kick-ass rock and roll.

So Downhearted Sometimes

If Bruce Springsteen had done (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding instead of Elvis Costello (or Nick Lowe) it, it would be as big as Born To Run or Born In The USA in the catalog of best rock songs of all time. 

So the question is: why isn't it?

Long Long Long

When we think about longevity, images of wrinkly Rolling Stones or half The Who come to mind.  And that makes sense, especially from a performance standpoint; some acts just keep on trucking.  The Stones, especially, give the air of having some kind of record for surviving the longest.

But if you examine the question from the perspective of recording new music, they haven’t/didn’t last so long – at least in my iTunes library.

Here’s the ranking of the artists who have had the longest careers in terms of their earliest and latest recordings (again, in my iTunes library – yours will differ).

Artist/Band	Earliest Recording	Latest Recording	Number of Years
Ringo Starr	1962	2012	50
Paul McCartney	1962	2007	45
B.B. King	1956	2000	44
Bob Dylan	1962	2006	44
Steve Winwood	1965	2008	43
Eric Clapton	1964	2006	42
George Harrison	1962	2002	40
James Taylor	1968	2007	39
Robert Plant	1969	2007	38
Joe Walsh	1969	2007	38
David Gilmour	1969	2006	37
Mark Knopfler	1978	2015	37
Bruce Springsteen	1973	2009	36
Tom Petty	1976	2010	34
Rolling Stones	1964	1994	30

OK, the Ringo thing is a bit of a fluke.  I finally saw him live in 2012, and was so happy about it that I bought the tee-shirt and the CD.

I don’t buy everything these folks release, but it’s wonderful that they’re still making great music – the ones that are alive anyway.

Speaking of which, I wonder if Hendrix or Lennon …. oh nevermind.

Nowhere To Run

A thumping beat that punches you in the back.  A relentless riff that hooks and then numbs your brain, until you suddenly find yourself inside the song.  Biting social commentary.  Energy.  Pathos.  Rebellion.  Despair.  Hope.

I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure Born In The USA should be Bruce Springsteen’s entry in the contest for best rock song of all time.

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.

Let’s Go Crazy

I don’t know about pop’s greatest year (that honour would have to land somewhere around 1966 give or take a year or two), but Rolling Stone’s 100 Best Singles of 1984 definitely disproves the assertion that the 80’s were a musical wasteland.

Yes, you’ve got your abundance of Europop (some good, some bad; you decide which is which), like Dead or Alive, Wham!  Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, Culture Club, or The Eurythmics.

Or you’ve got your hair bands, some of which didn’t quite stand the test of time (again, you decide which ones), like Scorpion, Ratt, Bon Jovi or Def Leppard.

You’ve also got a healthy reminder that R&B was alive and well thank you very much, thanks to Hall & Oates, Huey Lewis, Sade and Tina Turner.

Then there’s folks who did a great job riding the punk/new wave pop rock thing, like The Cars, Billy Idol, Cyndi Lauper, or Mellencamp.

And of course there are the giants of the decade: Prince, Michael Jackson, Madonna, The Police and U2.

But, you also have blasts from the past, as it were, with entries from Springsteen, Genesis, Van Halen, ZZ Top, Elton John, and McCartney.  Heck, even John Lennon has a posthumous release on the list.

So, notwithstanding 99 Luftballons, there are a lot of fabulous tunes here.  And you know, I had almost as many of these records as I had for the Top 100 of 1966.

Come On Baby The Laugh’s On Me

Dunno ‘bout you, but I always find a song with a bit of humour in it refreshing.  Not comedy.  Just songs that have a humourous line or two, maybe a bit of self-deprecation, something that says, ”Hey! Don’t take this too seriously.”

The Kinks were pretty good that way.  Ditto Steve Miller, Dire Straits, Ian Thomas and Joe Walsh (The Eagles, not so much).  Tom Petty excels at it.  George Harrison was a master.

Then there are the Stones doing country.  They seem to be screaming, “This is a joke!” to the point where it borders on comedy.  But they’re so darn good at it you’re not sure whether the joke is on you.

Anyway, even though rock ‘n’ roll itself – as Mark Shipper says – is a joke, it can cover some pretty heavy ground, so a little comic relief here and there is welcome.

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.

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.

The River of Troubled Water

A few posts ago I said that not many artists or groups deserve their own list, but that The Band was one of them.  I stand by that, but don’t dispute that Simon and Garfunkel also deserve their own Top Ten list.

So, without question, does Bruce Springsteen, but 100 Greatest Bruce Springsteen Songs?  I mean, he’s fabulous, and I have the utmost respect, but 100?  Isn’t that just a little excessive?  What about The Beatles or Rolling Stones, or Led Zeppelin or Eric Clapton or Buddy Guy?   Really, almost anyone with a big catalogue and lasting appeal.

Maybe they’re coming, those lists.

Back to Simon and Garfunkel, their impact was large.  Their appeal transcended generations and genres.  They kept the beatnik coffee house folk thing going until the Hippies came along and (all-too briefly) breathed new life into that scene.  That’s a pretty big accomplishment.

Powerful songs, terrific vocals, musical poetry.  “Tom and Jerry” definitely deserve their own list.  Too bad that, like so much other magic from the 60’s, it couldn’t last.

This Hell I Live In

With apologies to Mssrs. Lennon, McCartney, Winwood, Waters, Gilmour, Springsteen, Johnson and Anonymous …

The five saddest songs ever written are actually all in Les Miserables.

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.

Say What?

I can’t decide if this list of 10 Misinterpreted Song Meanings is funny or frightening.

Sting’s ultimate stalker song (Every Breath You Take) is frequently misconstrued as a sweet love song?  Really?  Bohemian Rhapsody is about AIDS even though AIDS didn’t exist yet?  Huh?  Born In The USA is chest-thumpingly patriotic?

What?  Hey, are these people even listening to the words?

Maybe the scariest one, though, is Hotel California.  I mean, I’m not the sharpest pencil in the box, but I got right away that this was about material excess and the emptiness of American culture.  Sheesh!  Half the album was about that.  How did people land on devil worship?  Is this stuff just made up?

Maybe Bryan or Freddie didn’t care how you interpreted the lyrics, since they both seem to have confessed that not much thought was put into them, but I gotta think Sting, Bruce, Don and Glenn are a tad dismayed that they’re thoughtful poetry was received with less than zero thought.

Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

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.

All The Madness In My Soul

When I watched the 12.12.12 Concert for Sandy Relief a while back, I was nothing less than astonished by Springsteen’s performance of Born To Run.

I mean, here’s a guy who’s 63 years old singing his a** off about teenage angst and meaning it.  And he’s convincing!

Sure he’s that good, but maybe the song carries him more than a little.

You know, it just might be the greatest rock song ever.  It’s got it all: the aforementioned teenage angst, plus rebellion, romance, danger, hope, even social commentary – delivered over one of the best riffs of all time.

I don’t know if Springsteen’s incredible energy still makes the song relevant, or if the power of the song still makes Springsteen an untamed force of nature.  But either way, it’s magic.