Meme of Solace

I'm sure the title refers to a James Bond film; I'm swiping this from SamauraiFrog.

List 10 musical artists (or bands) you like, in no specific order (do this before reading the questions below). Really, don’t read the questions below until you pick your ten artists!!!

There is something to be said for following the instructions in this case.



1. The Beatles
2. The Beach Boys
3. David Bowie
4. The Rascals
5. The Rolling Stones
6. Linda Ronstadt
7. The Supremes
8. The Temptations
9. Talking Heads
10. The Police

What was the first song you ever heard by 6?

Something early, probably "Different Drum".

What is your favorite song of 8?

"I Can't Get Next To You". From the rowdy opening to the Sly Stone-inspired shared vocals.

What kind of impact has 1 left on your life?

Massive. I have a ton of their albums, both as a group and as solo artists. I know arcane things about their album releases. People say to me, "What album is X song on?" and far more often than not, I'll say "American or British album?" And then peg both of them. There's a picture of Lennon in my office and a photo of the Imagine imagine from NYC in my house.

What is your favorite lyric of 5?

Probably the chorus of "You Can't Always Get What You Want". "But if you try sometime, you just might find you get what you need." From Let It Bleed, probably my favorite Stones album. The organ noodling of this song during the early funeral sequence of The Big Chill cracked me up, while others in the audience wondered why.

How many times have you seen 4 live?

Never, though I've seen them live on TV once or twice.

What is your favorite song by 7?

"Love Is Like An Itchin' In My Heart". What an insistent bass line. there's a version that's about 30 seconds longer than the single I particularly enjoy.

Is there any song by 3 that makes you sad?

Ashes to Ashes
Time and again I tell myself
I'll stay clean tonight
But the little green wheels are following me
Oh no, not again

What is your favorite song by 9?

"Making Flippy Floppy", probably because I saw the Talking Heads during the Speaking in Tongues tour in 1983 or 1984 at SPAC in Saratoga.

When did you first get into 2?

It's really odd, actually. I had a compilation album with I Get Around and Don't Worry Baby in 1965, and the Pet Sounds album in 1966, both of which I liked. But I never considered myself a real Beach Boys fan until I got Surf's Up, which was a mainstay of my freshman year in college, 1971-72. THEN I went back and got into the earlier music, and bought the retrospective albums that came out in the mid-1970s.

How did you get into 3?

I was in my dorm room in my freshman year and somehow won Hunky Dory from my college radio station, WNPC on a radio call-in contest. I liked almost all of it; my roommate Ron only liked Changes.

What is your favorite song by 4?

"It's Love", the last song on the Groovin' album, featuring flute by Hubert Laws, plus a great bass line. When I got a new turntable in 1987, the track ran so close to the label that the album would reject before the song would end; drove me nuts. Actually bought the CD five years ago largely for this one song.

How many times have you seen 9 live?

Once, but it was one of the two greatest shows of my life, along with the Temptations in 1980 or 1981.

What is a good memory concerning 2?

A mixed memory actually. I had this friend named Donna George, and I bought her the Beach Boys box set. Before she died of brain cancer a few years ago, she assigned another friend of hers and me to divvy up her music. I took the Beach Boys box, and I always remember her when I play it.

Is there a song by 8 that makes you sad?

The Temptations with a Lot o' Soul is full of melancholy songs, but I'll pick No More Water in the Well.

What is your favorite song of 1?

A truly impossible question. Seriously. It's dependent on mood, what I've listened to recently. I'll say Got to Get You Into My Life, but reserve the right to change that.

How did you become a fan of 10?

Almost certainly listening to WQBK-FM, Q-104 in Albany, NY, a truly great station that also turned me onto the Talking Heads, the Clash and a lot of other music of the late 1970s and early 1980s.
ROG

Student Demonstration Time

When I first started this blog four yeas ago, someone asked me, some point after May 4, 2005, to write about Kent State. I'd written a paragraph about it, but I didn't have more to say. But now I do, and it's all about that maligned (by me, and others) Beach Boys song, Student Demonstration Time.

For it reminds me that ten days after that headline-grabbing Kent State, there was Jackson State, though it appears earlier in the Mike Love narrative.

The violence spread down South to where Jackson State brothers
Learned not to say nasty things about Southern policemen's mothers
Nothing much was said about it and really next to nothing done
The pen is mightier than the sword, but no match for a gun.

I always hated the glib tone of the second line, but now that I think on it, the third line was profound in its accuracy. How many of you who remember Kent State also remember Jackson State? I'm guessing not many, but it's not your fault.

America was stunned on May 4, 1970
When rally turned to riot up at Kent State University
They said the students scared the Guard
Though the troops were battle dressed
Four martyrs earned a new degree
The Bachelor of Bullets
I know we're all fed up with useless wars and racial strife
But next time there's a riot, well, you best stay out of sight

Well there's a riot going on
There's a riot going on
Well there's a riot going on
Student demonstration time

I was in high school at the time, but both Kent State and Jackson State had a profound effect on me. Fear, yes, but also a sense of resolve to keep up the struggle against "useless wars and racial strife". Yet this song, coming out a year after the events chronicled, totally undercuts it. Meh.



BTW, I found on the Internets lyrics to the song, but one source had replaced "The Bachelor of Bullets" with "badge of eternal rest". Was that just misheard lyrics or something else?

ROG

Songs That Move Me: #1

1. God Only Knows - Beach Boys.
Ultimately, a song I know a lot about, from Brian and Carl Wilson praying before the recording to Brian's obsessive orchestration. It's Beach Boys and it's beautiful.


I'll tell you how strong it is. Its use as the ending of the movie Love Actually probably raised the movie's enjoyment from a B-minus to a B-plus.


There are two things that really seal the deal for me picking this particular song. One was when I went to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame in May of 1998 and came across the tribute to Carl Wilson, who had died a few months earlier. Coincidentally, there was also a tribute to another Carl who had recently died, Carl Perkins. Quite moving.

The other factor was listening to the Beach Boys’ 5-CD boxed set, which has a 9-minute version of "God Only Knows," the first 6 of which is rehearsal, but the last 3 of which is a phenomenally beautiful rendition, ending in classic Beach Boys vocalese, which I hope sees the light of day as a separate release someday.
***
There are all sorts of artists whose music I enjoy, from James Brown to Led Zeppelin, the Police to the Talking Heads, who I enjoy immensely, yet somehow didn't make this particular list. If I do it again - don't hold your breath on that! - I will make a point of seeking other artists.
***
The Royal Guardsmen are finally going to England "After our hopes were dashed more than forty years ago, one of our desires has come to fruition." Readers of this blog may recall a spirited but friendly debate I had with the Guardsmen's drummer over the release of their song Snoopy Vs. Osama, which had a far more serious tone than the Snoopy vs. the Red Baron songs of the 1960s. Even though we disagreed, I've been wishing John Burdett and the group well, and even subsequently got hold of an RG greatest hits collection. Maybe it's because the group and I have the same initials.
ROG

Songs That Move Me, 20-11

20. Strawberry Letter #23 - Brothers Johnson
Starts off with circus music, then kicks a groove. That swirling sound at the bridge is extraordinary.
Feeling: loving.


19. Eleanore - the Turtles.
The story goes that their record company wanted another "Happy Together", so the group gave them one. It has the same minor to major transition, very similar - though lovely - harmonies, and the like. So why is this song, rather than "Happy Together" on the list? Two reasons, really. One: HT was really overplayed. Two: the line "you're my pride and joy, et cet'ra," a throwaway line if ever I heard one. (It rhymes with "better" or more correctly, "betta".) Love singing along.
Feeling: swell.




18. Drive My Car - Beatles.
I read once the intricacy of the chord structure. It's the minor key feel of the verse and major chord feel of the chorus that grabbed me from first hearing. First song that Paul McCartney played in some 23008 concerts.
Feeling: ironic.


17. Isaac Hayes - Shaft
Even before the great vocal comes up, an orchestral delight, as the melody shifts from section to section.
Feeling: damn right.


16. Can We Still Be Friends - Todd Rundgren
The changing meter in the bridge makes it.
feeling: You know the answer is no.


15. Sly & The Family Stone - Hot Fun In The Summertime
Harmonies, shared vocals and an "ooo-Lord" worth waiting for.
Feeling: sweaty.


14. Jerks on the Loose - the Roches.
The album Keep On Doing was produced by Robert Fripp, so there are odd sonic twists and turns throughout. this song has one of my favorite (and used) couplets:
"You work too ard to take this abuse
Be on your guard jerks on the loose.
This 30-second taste (Track 11) hardly gives the full sense of how great this song is.
Feeling: on my guard.

13. (Just Like) Starting Over - John Lennon.
In the fall of 1980, when the single was released, there was a lot of anticipation about it and the forthcoming Double Fantasy album. I didn't think it was a great song, but it was sort of fun, with that faux Elvis vocal in the beginning of the verse. Then John died, and the irony of the title - we waited five years and THAT had to happen? - made me tear up for months, if not years.
Feeling: still makes me very sad.


12. River - Joni Mitchell.
There's a lot of Joni I could have picked, but this one, based on Jingle Bells, is just so beautiful. The piano variations at the end seal the deal.
Feeling: longing.


11. In My Room - the Beach Boys.
I liked being in my room when I was a kid. I could entertain myself for hours, reading, looking at my baseball cards and listening to the radio. Yet I was somehow supposed to feel guilty for doing so. Anyway, lives on the vocals, in this case - single voice, then two-part harmony, then full harmony; very effective.
Feeling: cloistered.



ROG

Songs That Move Me, 40-31

40. Love Is Like An Itching In My Heart - the Supremes.
Much of Motown lived on the bottom, and this did too, but had lots of other elements, including a great vocal.


39. Got to Get You into My Life - the Beatles.
The Fabs get soulful. I'd play the (US) Revolver album once through this song, then, if my parents weren't home, play the song again very loudly. This made Tomorrow Never Knows particularly noisy.
Feeling: hopeful.


38. Barabajagal - Donovan (With The Jeff Beck Group)
It's jazzy, it rocks, it has those sexy female vocals.
Feeling: love IS hot.
HERE.

37. Hurt-Johnny Cash
If I included my feelings about the video, this would be even higher, maybe even Top 10. Still that insistent keyboard is quite affecting.
Feeling: sadness.
HERE or


36. Season Of Hollow Soul - k.d. lang.
Very sad, very autumnal song from her pop breakthrough album, Ingenue. Unfortunately, this anime video cuts off.
Feeling: hollow.


35. Church-Lyle Lovett.
I feel like I've BEEN to church after this. The second song from the CD named after the sixth, seventh, and eighth books of the Bible, Joshua Judges Ruth.
Feeling: righteous.
HERE.

34. Maybe I'm Amazed-Paul McCartney.
A song on the first solo LP as good as anything his old group did. the bridge and the end are especially strong.
Feeling: joyful.


33. Sunshine of Your Love - Cream
Of course, there's that quintessential opening hook. But it's also the shared lead vocals, the oddly effective harmony, and the Blue Moon bridge.
Feeling: good.


32. ‘Til I Die - Beach Boys
While the verse and chorus structure is evocative, it's the end part stating the title, and the vocals wrapped around it that is most moving.
Feeling: reflective.
HERE.

31. Can’t Get Next to You - the Temptations
After David Ruffin left the group, it was the wisdom of producer Norman Whitfield to cop the shared vocals motif from Sly Stone, to great effect.
Feeling: mind-blowing.

ROG

Songs That Move Me, 50-41

50. Indiscipline - King Crimson.
"I repeat myself when under stress, I repeat myself when under stress..." Tom, my boss at FantaCo, described this song as his description of the store. Last song on the first side of the Discipline LP.
Feeling: feeling: feeling: feeling:


49. Would I Lie To You - Eurythmics.
There's the insistent beat, the horns, the vocals, the guitar line, specially on the bridge.
Feeling: truthful.
It's HERE.

48. High School- MC5.
A decade before the Ramones, the MC5 from Detroit, a three-chord band. This live version doesn't exude the sheer raw energy of the original.
Feeling: you better get out of the way.


47. Tell Me Something Good - Rufus.
Chaka Khan! Has that wonderful descending chromatic scale. Stevie Wonder-penned funk. Love the Bob Hope intro.
Feeling: good.


46. Logical Song – Supertramp.
I love the way the sound gets fuller on the verse before the break, the doubling of the vocal on "a vegetable" and the sax solo.
Feeling: paranoid.

A better video but lesser sound here.

45. Uptight - Stevie Wonder.
My first all-time favorite Motown song. First that bass line with drums, then the horns. I'm also fond of the background vocals, and that machine gun-like drunm fills. So good that Bill Cosby, long before Weird Al, copped it for "Little Old Man".
Feeling- joy.


44. Tomorrow Never Knows - the Beatles.
Insistent bottom, weird tape loop sounds, odd vocal, strange bridge. Oh, I love it.
Feeling: floating.
It's here.

43. Our Prayer – Beach Boys.
About 68 seconds of stunning vocalese.
Feeling: reflective.
A snippet here.

42. Satisfaction - Rolling Stones.
Anthemic, copped by lots of other bands.
Feeling: as though I tried and I tried.


41. (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding?-Elvis Costello.
I STILL hear this both as the driving anthem it is and as an a cappella doowop. From a greatest hits CD.
Feeling: like begging for peace.


ROG

Brian Wilson's Route 66

Brian Wilson is 66 today.

Here's a link to the Coverville tribute to Pet Sounds.

A link to a guy who has put a bunch of a cappella takes of the Beach Boys' versions of the songs from Pet Sounds on YouTube.

My second favorite song from Pet Sounds:


Brian from SMiLE:


Brian from a 1967 performance of a song from what would have been SMiLE:


A Neil Young song that namechecks the Beach Boys and a song from Pet Sounds. The studio version (which I can't find) is even more evocative.


A John Hiatt song which has what I think are lovely harmonies - inspired by the Beach Boys?

***
And on another matter, the New York Daily News cover from Wednesday, June 18:


ROG

Songs That Move Me, 90-81

90. Wah Wah - George Harrison.
On an album, All This Must Pass, of mostly lovely little tunes, this really rocks. I love the harmonies. And is that a race car engine revving at the end?
Feeling: like playing air guitar.


89. Police on My Back - the Clash.
Just for that guitar line that sounds like a UK siren. The harmonies aren’t as apparent in this version, but the frentic energy certainly is.
Feeling: slightly paranoid.


88. Cancer - Joe Jackson.
The juxtaposition of the topic "there's no cure, there's no answer" with the jaunty, piano-driven tune fascinated me. From side 2 of the LP Night and Day. This is a live version, which I ALSO own.
Feeling: conflicted.


87. Born To Run- Bruce Springsteen.
Anthemic, from the drum intro on.
Feeling: see title.


86. Rock Lobster - the B-52's.
The "hook" is in the very beginning. I especially like the Yokoesque segment.
Feeling: in the mood for seafood.


85. Kiko and the Lavender Moon - Los Lobos.
Based on Three Blind Mice, this is just a weird, weird song.
Feeling: if I HAD taken it, I'd be experiencing an acid flashback.


84. Winter Snow - Booker T. & The MG's
This is only 30 seconds of this, which does not give the full mood of the piece. From the Album Stax/Volt - The Complete Singles 1959-1968 - Volume 8.
HERE.
Feeling: melancholy.

83. Sail On Sailor-the Beach Boys.
The first song on the Holland LP. This was released twice as a single, somebody believed so much in it, but it was never more than a moderate hit, which surprises me, because I just love it.
Feeling: nautical.


82. Maybe - Alison Krauss.
I wish I could explain musical things better, but in the chorus, but the way the chord resolves in the chorus always moved me. Bonus: Carol and I saw this tour in 2003.
Feeling: a bit melancholy.


81. Summer in the City - Lovin' Spoonful.
A song I could play on the piano, albeit poorly. The intro, and the instrumentation at the end makes it for me.
Feeling: dirty and gritty..

if this is gone:

***
So you want to write a fugue by Glenn Gould.


ROG

The Kennedy Center Honors, Part 2

More on the Kennedy Center Honors that took place on December 2 and is airing on CBS on Wednesday, December 26 at 9 pm EST.

I was afraid the Kennedy Center might treat Brian Wilson as some has-been of the 1960s, but it appears not to be so, as they cite his more recent works as well as his classic Beach Boys songs.

It's odd that I never owned a Beach Boys album until Pet Sounds, which is my favorite . But once I got into the group, I did so in as major way. I've probably repurchased more Beach Boys music (vinyl to CD) than any group save for the Beatles. I now own, in one form or another:
Beach Boys Concert (32:03) (r. 19th October 1964)
Christmas Album (27:32) (r. November 1964)
Pet Sounds (35:39) (r. 16th May 1966)
Smiley Smile (27:00) (r. 5th September 1967)
Wild Honey (23:55) (r. 4th December 1967)
Friends (24:57) (c. 6th July 1968)
20/20 (29:33) (c. 1st March 1969)
Sunflower (36:10) (r. 31st August 1970)
Surf's Up (32:59) (r. August 1971) - my second-favorite album
Carl and The Passions - So Tough (33:47) (r. 14th May 1972)
Holland (35:49+11:57=47:46) (r. 8th January 1973) this I have on vinyl with the story on a separate disc.
15 Big Ones (37:51) (r. June 1976)
Love You (33:40) (r. March 1977)
This doesn't count a number of compilations, from a pair of double LPs in the early 1970s to the box set in the 1990s. The fifth CD in the box set has a 9-minute, "in process" version of "God Only Knows", the last three minutes of which begs to be released as a single. The box set was actually a present to a friend, which I got back after she died.

Of Brian's solo discography, I have:
Brian Wilson, 1988
Imagination, 1998
Gettin' In Over My Head, 2004
SMiLE, 2004
What I Really Want For Christmas, 2005

The final artist to be honored is Diana Ross, or as the announcer puts it on a box set called The Motown Story, "Miss Diana Ross."

There were LOTS of Supremes albums at my house when I grew up. Of this list, we had all of them in the 1962-1967 section except the Christmas album. When the group became Diana Ross and the Supremes, I still got a number of the albums; from that section, all except Funny Girl, Cream of the Crop, Greatest Hits 3 and Farewell.

But after her first two solo albums, I was disinclined to buy any more. I think, like many of the Motown artists, I resented how Berry Gordy pushed her to the fore. According to the December 5 Wall Street Journal, the main character in the new movie Juno wants people to know that her name came not from the capital of Alaska but from Zeus's wife. ("She was supposed to be really beautiful but really mean, like Diana Ross.")

Not that I was unaware of Miss Ross. Her version of Ain't No Mountain High Enough was the backdrop to some Black History Month assembly in 1971. Certainly I heard the hits such as Love Hangover and Upside Down. I heard Endless Love endlessly. I still have a visual of her singing in a thunder storm in Central Park.

But the bulk of her solo work eluded me. So, while I was (allegedly) doing Christmas shopping for others a couple weeks ago, I was compelled to buy The Definitive Collection Somehow, I managed to miss the anthemic "I'm Coming Out" and a number of other songs. As it's likely my only DR on CD, matching my Supremes CD greatest hits compilation as the lone digital representation in my collection, I'm actually glad to have it.

ROG

The Rules: Part 3 (of 37): Playing Music

As you may know if you know me, or if you’re a regular reader of this blog, I am a compulsive about some things such as filing my recorded music. I've likely mentioned that I’m also obsessive about playing music I own. I figure that if I own it, I should play it. If I don’t play it, I should probably get rid of it.

To that end, I play music on a musician's or classical composer's birthday week. This week, in honor of their birthdays today, it's Frank Sinatra and Dionne Warwick. This birthday thing also applies to compilers of compilations, so the guy with the Omnibus coming out is heard in January, while the Eddie-torial pledge dude gets played in November.

There used to be a time when I'd play a given artist two or three times during the course of a year, but with an increasing number of recordings, I've had to figure out how to parse some groups.

Simon & Garfunkel I play in November, Art's birthday; I also play my one Garfunkel album. Simon solo I play in October.
I have so many Rolling Stones albums that I play the store-bought ones in July, Mick Jagger's birthday, and the ones I've burned in December, Keith Richards' birthday.
Led Zeppelin gets played in January, Jimmy Page's birthday; solo Robert Plant in August.
I play Crosby and CPR in August, Stills in January and Young in November. CSN(&Y) I play in February, Nash's birthday, since I have no Nash on CD.
The Police get played in July, Stuart Copeland's birthday, while Sting gets played in October. (Why not Andy Sumner as the Police trigger? Because his birthday came later in the year, in December.)
Don Henley in July; the Eagles in November, Glenn Frey's birthday.
With so many Beach Boys albums, most of them I play in June, Brian Wilson's birthday, along with solo Brian Douglas Wilson. However, the box set and the greatest hits I play in December, the birthdays of Dennis Carl Wilson and Carl Dean Wilson. (I didn't know until yesterday that Dennis' middle name was Carl; how odd.)
The Beatles are the most convoluted. Solo artists in their respective months, of course. In October, for John, I play the canon, the British albums as they were originally produced, since he was the leader of the group; also the Past Masters, which represent, mostly, the singles. February I play the American albums, since George was the first Beatle to come to the U.S., visiting his sister Louise. June, Paul's month, gets the other items: the Anthologies, the BBC, the remixes of Yellow Sub and Let It Be, and LOVE. As for July, Ringo gets all the many Beatle cover albums.

Speaking of which, I'm in the midst of moving my tribute albums from their own section to the end of the run of the given artist; there are now so many that I forget.

As for the rest of my music: February gets compilation love albums, compilation soul albums (except Motown, played in November for Berry Gordy's birthday) and, if the Oscars are in February, soundtracks, which usually takes a couple months in any case. As for the rest of the albums, other compilations, artists with birthdays I don't know, I play whenever I want. Well, except the Chieftains and Clannad, which I listen to in March, and Christmas albums, which I play between December 1 and Epiphany. Oh, and Halloween albums for guess when?

The requirement to play, say John Lennon in October, doesn't preclude me from playing it again in March just because I feel like it.
ROG

Underplayed Vinyl: Beach Boys

My first Beach Boys album was Pet Sounds, followed by some of those other late 1960s/early 1970s albums, such as Smiley Smile, Surf's Up and Holland, plus the pairing of Wild Honey and 20/20. I never owned any of those early beach/surf/cars tunes until I bought those wildly successful double LP compilations, Endless Summer and Spirit of America.

So, when 15 Big Ones came out, complete with the "Brian is back!" mantra, it didn't have the same meaning to me as it might have for a more faithful BB fan.

1. "Rock And Roll Music" (Chuck Berry) - 2:29
2. "It's OK" (Brian Wilson/Mike Love) - 2:12
3. "Had To Phone Ya" (Brian Wilson/Mike Love/Diane Rovell) - 1:43
4. "Chapel Of Love" (Jeff Barry/Ellie Greenwich/Phil Spector) - 2:34
5. "Everyone's In Love With You" (Mike Love) - 2:42
6. "Talk To Me" (J. Seneca) - 2:14
7. "That Same Song" (Brian Wilson/Mike Love) - 2:16
8. "TM Song" (Brian Wilson) - 1:34
9. "Palisades Park" (C. Barris) - 2:27
10. "Susie Cincinnati" (Al Jardine) - 2:57
11. "A Casual Look" (E. Wells) - 2:45
12. "Blueberry Hill" (A. Lewis/L. Stock/V. Rose) - 3:01
13. "Back Home" (Brian Wilson/Bob Norberg) - 2:49
14. "In The Still Of The Night" (F. Parris) - 3:03
15. "Just Once In My Life" (Gerry Goffin/Carole King/Phil Spector) - 3:47

The album begins with the Chuck Berry song. Most critics hate this rendition, even though it went to #5 in the charts. I thought it was OK. More than OK, though was "It's OK", which to my ears, was vintage Beach Boys. "Had to Phone Ya" was charming. "That Same Song" I loved, as well as "Back Home", which apparently Brian had around for over a decade. "Susie Cincinnati", which had been cut from the Sunflower album, I learned from that album's CD liner notes, was a fun little song. "Talk to Me" was a strange little tune, with weak vocals, but I sorta liked it anyway.

The rest is rather hit or miss. The remaining covers seldom distinguish themselves from the originals, or are far lesser versions, though I appreciated "Palisades Park" for the near slavish imitation it was.

Yet, as I recall, I played the album. Played it a lot, actually. It had enough songs that I liked that I largely ignored the ones I didn't. I barely remembered the uninspired, but short, "TM Song", e.g. And it wasn't that I hated the rest; it was more that it wasn't as good as it might have been.

15 Big Ones is now available on CD, paired with Love You, the follow-up Beach Boys album, that received far better reviews, at least that I've read. I own it, but don't remember it nearly that well. 15 Big Ones sold better, fueled by that Top 10 single, getting to #8 and going gold, while Love You peaked at #53.

Guess I know what Underplayed Vinyl will be next year. Brian Wilson turns 65 today; who woulda thunk it?
ROG

Summer of Love

It's not even summer yet and I've already begun to tire of mention of the term "Summer of Love". The early adopters of the counterculture movement seemed to have decided that the folks that invaded Haight-Asbury, in the words of the Grateful Dead's Bob Weir on CBS News, "just didn't get it."

But I'll admit that there's one thing that largely endured: the music. Here's a list of all the bands that played at the Monterey Pop Festival, which opened four decades ago tomorrow, withe the approximate number of LPs of theirs I own, suggesting their impact on me then; and the number of CDs I own of theirs I own, suggesting their impact on me more recently.

Friday, June 16
* The Association - 1 greatest hits LP. Hey, they tried to be "relevant" on the smothers Brothers Show when the sang Requiem for the Masses.
* The Paupers - nope
* Lou Rawls - 1 CD
* Beverly - who?
* Johnny Rivers - 1 greatest hits CD
* The Animals - at least one LP that includes the song "Monterey", 1 greatest hits CD
* Simon and Garfunkel - at least six LPs, plus at least four solo Simon LPs, and one Garfunkel LP. S&G box set, Paul Simon box set, plus other CDs of each
Saturday, June 17
* Canned Heat - maybe one LP
* Big Brother & The Holding Company -one LP, plus three other Janis Joplin LPs and three Janis CDs
* Country Joe and The Fish - one LP, plus their appearance on the Woodstock LP
* Al Kooper - the Super Sessions with Mike Bloomfield and Steve Stills LP; the first Blood, Sweat and Tears LP
* The Butterfield Blues Band - one LP, one CD
* Quicksilver Messenger Service - one LP
* Steve Miller Band - two CDs
* The Electric Flag - one LP
* Moby Grape - one LP
* Hugh Masekela - alas, none
* The Byrds - one LP, two CDs
* Laura Nyro -two LPs
* Jefferson Airplane - at least six LPs, a two-disc greatest hits CD
* Booker T and The MG's - no, though well-represented in the two Stax-Volt CD box sets I have
* Otis Redding - ditto
Sunday, June 18
* Ravi Shankar - one LP; I also have CDs of two of his daughters
* The Blues Project -one LP
* Big Brother & The Holding Company - see above
* The Group With No Name - don't know
* Buffalo Springfield - 1 LP, 1 greatest hits CDs, plus four CSN(Y) LPs, two CSNY CDs, two solo Stills CDs (once owned on LP but lost or stolen), eight Neil Young LPs, at least seven Neil Young CDs
* The Who - seven LPs, three CDs, four Pete Townshend LPs, three Townshend CDs
* Grateful Dead - four LPs, one greatest hits CD
* The Jimi Hendrix Experience - four LPs, three CDs
* Scott McKenzie - nope
* The Mamas & The Papas - five LPs, a three-disc greatest hits CD

Meanwhile, Brian Wilson is playing Monterey this month, 40 years after the Beach Boys declined for a variety of reasons. I have a LOT of Brian Wilson (at least 4 CD), and Beach Boys albums (a boatload of LPs and CDs, some duplicative).
ROG

25 things

Tosy has got me sussed.

1. I've come to realize that my last kiss... was probably done perfunctorily.

2. I am listening to... a lot of Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson and the B groups they used to be in.

3. I talk...more often than not with a filter of appropriateness.

4. I want...a couple more hours per day to read and play. I need to play.

5. My best friend(s)...with a few exceptions, don't live around here, so I see them rarely.

7. The weather is... wet, but pleasantly so.

8. I hate it when people...are inconsiderate. My current pet peeve involves the bus kiosks around two of our hospitals, St. Peter's and Albany Med. The hospital employees use the kiosks to smoke their cigarettes during their breaks, then go back work.

9. Love is... as strong as death. That's a lyric in a church anthem, from the Song of Solomon, and it always gets to me.

10. Marriage is... not for the meek.

11. Somewhere, someone is thinking... someone stole my invention. In all likelihood, it didn't happen.

12. I'll always... remember the things I should have done more than the things I did do.

13. I have a secret crush on... oh, golly, any number of people. However, I haven't watched a program because a person was on it since I watched Sisters for Sela Ward.

14. The last time I cried was... watching Flashpoint last week. It was a CBS News special about reporter Kimberly Dozier's near death experience in Iraq from an IED. Her soundman and cameraman died, as did a soldier and his translator.

15. My cell phone is... missing.

16. When I wake up in the morning... I start ruminating about what needs to be done. Then I end up doing a list of things not on the list at all.

17. Before I go to bed... I often play Internet backgammon.

18. Right now I am thinking about... caffeine.

19. Babies are... statements of optimism in a sometimes miserable world.

20. I go on MySpace... almost never, even though I have a page.

21. Today I... answer a bunch of question about a blog I helped initiate last week.

22. Tonight I... hope to watch one of those episodes from six weeks of Scrubs, Earl or the office. That was on my list LAST week; saw one Earl.

23. Tomorrow I... go play racquetball in the morning, if the three-year old and I get out of the house in time.

24. I really want to... get a massage.

25. Someone who will most likely repost this? I haven't a clue; Eddie could.
***
Don't steal beer in Montana
***
"I know I don't know most celebs in real life, and therefore shouldn't go throwing haterade at them left and right ... but man, I cannot stand Paris Hilton." - Jen Hubley, About.Com. Haterade - I like that.
ROG

BOOK: Kill Your Idols

I'm only adding this banner because I hate to read about Mark Evanier crying.


Anyway, some guy, pretty much out of the blue, sent me a copy of the book Kill Your Idols: A New Generation of Rock Writers Reconsiders the Classics, edited by Jim DeRogatis and Carmel Carillo. (Thank you.) I ended up reading it over two or three days on the road to Charlotte aand back.

I don't think I'll be reviewing the book per se, except to say that the essays by some three dozen writers are wildly different. A few discuss how they became critics; I don't care. But some are pretty much on point.

Here's a list of the chapters.

Forward: Canon? We Don't Need No Steekin' Canon by Jim DeRogatis. The premise is lovely: "each writer addresses an allegedly 'great' album that he or she despises." He manages to dis baby boomers as being "prone to safeguarding works whose values they adopted as articles of faith in their youth, even though said youth is now several decades behind them. The writer challenges the inconsistency of the "best album: lists, notoriously generated by Rolling Stone magazine. It's a good start.

The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Capitol, 1967, by Jim DeRogatis.
The writer's point: that the album is an archive of the '60, a "bloated and baroque failed concept albums that takes a generation...back to the best shindig of their lives," old-fashioned. He eviscerates most of the songs individually, with the notable exception of "A Day In the Life."
My take: I think the writer is too harsh about With a Little Help, Lucy, and especially Getting Better, but largely agree with his disdain for Within You Without You and especially She's Leaving Home, which IS "saccharine, strings-drenched melodrama." DeRogatis' point that some of these songs are lesser efforts than the songs on songs from earlier albums, especially Revolver, is arguably true.
Sidebar: Gordon asked, a while ago: Here's a tough question:
Which Beatle album, in your opinion, is stronger and has held up over the course of time: Revolver or Sgt. Pepper?
Easy question, actually: Revolver, by quite a bit. Taxman rocks more than anything on Pepper, Love You To is less annoying (and much shorter) than Within You, For No One is gorgeous, Got To Get You Into My Life IS rubber soul, and the Tomorrow Never Knows is so strong that the backing track works to make the interminable Within You more palatable on the new LOVE album. (A group called the Fab Four, a Beatles cover band, used the Tomorrow Never Knows music to great effect as backing for Jingle Bells. Really. And I like it.)

The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds. Capitol, 1966 by Jeff Nordstedt.
The writer's point: Aside from the "unassailable" hits, Wouldn't It Be Nice and God Only Knows, there is an "emotional gap between the [happy] music...and the [depressing] lyrics". Overproduced, and your parents won't hate it. And that overproduction "was partially responsible for the invention of the synthesizers", which lead to the "evil development" of disco.
My take: Maybe it's not a "rock 'n' roll" album, but so what? It's one of my favorites. The disco argument is just silly; if there was no Pet Sounds, some other album would have inspired synthesizers. And not all "disco sucks".

The Beach Boys: Smile. Unreleased, 1967, by Dawn Eden.
The writer's point: It's mostly inaccessible, and will never be as good as the hype, Good Vibrations and Heroes and Villains notwithstanding.
My take: Nothing can ever match the hype. The Brian Wilson album SMiLE, released after the essay, is an intriguing piece of music, but may or may not have changed the course of music 37 years earlier.

The Who: Tommy. MCA, 1969. By Steve Knopper.
The writer's point: It suffers from "glaring conceptual weaknesses, tin-can production, and timeless inability to rock." Bland, repetitive; the filler songs are terrible. Only Pinball Wizard, I'm Free, Cousin Kevin, and Fiddle About are any good, and the latter is tainted by Pete Townsend's arrest, even though the charges were dropped. But the greatest sin is that they (especially Townsend) couldn't leave it alone but had it done again and again.
My take: The filler songs and repeated musical themes never bothered me - Townsend's working in a largely unfamiliar medium of "rock opera". Not only did I like the songs cited by Knopper, but also Christmas and Underture. But those other versions with the London Symphony Orchestra, and the movie soundtrack, are NOT improvements.

The MC5: Kick Out the Jams. Elektra, 1969. By Andy Wang
The writer's point: full of john Sinclair's nonsensical White Panther Party rubbish, and not very good.
My take: Don't own; haven't heard in too long to comment.

The Byrds: Sweetheart of the Rodeo. Columbia, 1968. By Steven Stolder.
The writer's point: It was no more the pioneer country-rock album than the Beau Brummel's Bradley's Barn. The "notion of country rock as defined by the Byrds...seems unnecessary.
My take: Doing a comparison with an album I've never heard of, let alone heard, makes it difficult to comment. On the other hand, country rock always seemed like an artifice to me.

Captain Beefheart and His Magic Band: Trout Mask Replica. Straight, 1969. By Jason Gross.
The writer's point: Gives him a throbbing headache.
My take: Never heard.

Led Zeppelin: (Untitled, IV, Runes, or Zoso), Atlantic, 1971. By Adrian Brijbassi.
The writer's point: Seems to be largely about his sex life, though he does also talk about Zeppelin musical theft on this and other albums.
My take: I like it well enough, though I've ODed on Stairway to Heaven decades ago.

Neil Young: Harvest, Reprise, 1972. By Fred Mills.
The writer's point: "The music world is overrun by simpering singer-songwriters obsessed with the D chord and first-person pronouns", thanks to its success.
My take: Well, maybe so. Actually, while I like the songs - though Alabama IS a lesser version of Southern Man from the previous album - I never fully bought it as musically coherent statement. I'll be curious to hear the next Neil album, which the late producer David Briggs tried to convince Neil should have been the logical successor to After the Goldrush.

Rolling Stones: Exile on Main Street, Rolling Stones, 1972. By Keith Moerer.
The writer's point: Lots of great songs, with an "awful lot of genre filler (and worse)..." Not a fan of Sweet Black Angel.
My point: I agree.

The Eagles: Desperado, Asylum, 1973. By Bobby Reed.
The writer's point: Not the cohesive story it feigns to be. (Spends too much time telling about himself.)
My take: Though I probably own this album, somewhere, I must have got it so late in the vinyl game that I don't really know what it sounds like well enough to judge.
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Pronounced Len-nerd Skin-nerd, MCA, 1973. By Leanne Potts.
The writer's point: Southern-fried hokum.
My point: Don't have, though I've never been a particular fan of Freebird or Sweet Home Alabama.

Graham Parsons: GP/Grievous Angel, Warner Brothers, 1990. (Original releases 1973, 1974). By Chrissie Dickinson.
The writer's point: a "critically-correct cult god" who couldn't sing.
My point: Don't have. Makes me want to check it out.

The Doors: Best of the Doors, Elektra, 1985. By Lorraine Ali (with Jim DeRogatis).
The writer's point: Lyrically pretentious, musically lame.
My point: I have another greatest hits, but I have to agree that "Light My Fire" is pretty lame; the single's much more tolerable than the album cut, because it doesn't have that cheesy organ solo. But I always live for the "stronger than dirt" part of the creepy "Touch Me".

Pink Floyd: The Dark Side of the Moon, Capitol/EMI, 1973. By Burl Gilyard.
The writer's point: It's "moody, ponderous, torpid and humorless."
My point: Well, maybe it is, but I like it atmospherically anyway.

Bob Dylan: Blood on the Tracks, Columbia, 1975. By Chris Martiniano.
The writer's point: It's a "cliched, dull, and at times, a tragically sloppy album."
My point: Given that this is one of my favorite Dylan albums, I'm not feeling this complaint.


Well, THAT was fun. But time consuming. I'll do it again for the rest of the book. Later, probably next month, when I'm stuck for a topic. I can't wait, because I used to know one of the upcoming reviewers.

The twins

"In the 1960's, there were two groups on Capitol Records - one American, the other British - whose name began with the letters 'B-E-A-.' Each of these groups featured a bass playing songwriter born in June of 1942, and each group made records that have withstood the test of time to become classics of popular culture."

I started delivering the Press, the Binghamton evening and Sunday morning newspaper, back in the days when there were actually evening newspapers, in 1964 or early 1965. (The M-Sa morning paper was the Sun-Bulletin; the two papers subsequently merged into a seven-morning Press & Sun-Bulletin.)

So, I had money of my own. Naturally, because I wanted to get all of the Beatles albums (I had some singles), I joined the Capitol Record club in 1965. My first album was Beatles VI, and I worked backward and forward from there, including this weird mostly talk album called The Beatles Story. I got Something New relatively early in the process. I distinctly remember getting Meet the Beatles in STEREO, which was a problem, because I only had a MONO player! There were directives about not playing a stereo record with a mono needle, lest you wreck the album. I didn't play Meet the Beatles for weeks, then I did, and it SEEMED OK...

I also got Daydream by the Lovin' Spoonful, Herman's Hermits' Greatest Hits, the Hollyridge Strings performing Beatles tunes, some instrumentalist named Billy Strange, and, of course, BIG HITS FROM ENGLAND AND USA. One side had two songs each from BEATLES (England), BEACH BOYS (USA), and PETER & GORDON (England), the "kids" side; the Peter & Gordon cuts, not so incidentally, were by Lennon & McCartney. The other side contained 2 tunes by NAT KING COLE(USA) and CILLA BLACK (England), plus "Tears and Roses" by AL MARTINO (USA), the "adults" side. I probably still have it upstairs in the attic.

Thus, my very first album I owned that featured the Beach Boys was on an album that also featured the Beatles. "I Get Around" was a great song that I had heard on the radio. But it was the other song, "Don't Worry Baby", a lovely ballad with exquisite harmonies that I don't think I had been familiar with, which really intrigued me. I'd heard many of the beach/girls/cars songs on the radio, but this was something special.

So when it became available, I bought the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds. As Paul McCartney noted, "Pet Sounds was my inspiration for making Sgt. Pepper's...the big influence. That was the big thing for me (in 1966). I just thought, 'Oh, dear me. This is the album of all-time. What are we going to do?'" Eventually, Paul gave a copy of Pet Sounds to all of his children. At the end of 1966, a year-end poll in one of England's music papers found The Beach Boys topping The Beatles as the #1 vocal group in the world.

And, of course, the Beatles' Rubber Soul, one of my next record club purchases, inspired the Beach Boys' would-be legendary SMiLE, the album with a 37-year gestation period, finally released last year by the primary songwriter.

So, here's to Paul McCartney, whose 63rd birthday was two days ago, and Brian Wilson, whose 63rd natal day celebration is today. Twins separated only by 48 hours and 6000 miles.

***
And speaking of vintage music, the 25th Annual Old Songs Festival is this weekend at the Altamont Fairgrounds near Albany. There was a stretch when I used to go every year, but that pattern has been altered. We PLAN to attend this year, and I hope to meet up with a friend (SKA) I haven’t seen in about three years.

Of course, yesterday, for Father’s Day, we PLANNED to go out miniature golfing, but then Lydia fell asleep on her mother’s lap for two hours, then she was hungry, then she needed changing, etc., etc. Was it Bobby Burns who said something about plans and rodents and people?

What's in a (Band) Name?

I went to see the Funk Brothers and the Family Stone Experience in Washington Park back on May 14. It was great, but it got me to thinking: When personnel changes in a rock group, can it still be considered that group? There were, last I knew, TWO splinter groups from Sly and the Family Stone, both with original members. Since NEITHER includes Sly, there's no issue of being the real thing. But there have been other bands during the years that have had more complicated issues.

The Beatles: When the Beatles broke up in 1970, it was considered "Paul's fault" in some circles. After all, he had the audacity to put out his first solo album at about the same time as Let It Be. (Even though the others had all released solo discs earlier.) And he had different management (the Eastmans, Linda's kin) than the others (Allen Klein). There was a widespread rumor at the time that the Beatles would re-form with Lennon, Harrison, Starr, Billy Preston (keyboardist on Get Back) and Klaus Voorman (designer of the Revolver album cover) on bass. Would they have been accepted as "The Beatles"? I seriously doubt it. They could survive the switch from Pete Best to Ringo Starr on the cusp of their stardom, but as the icons they became, there could be no substitutes.

The Rolling Stones: Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Brian Jones, Charlie Watts, and Bill Wyman was the line-up, with Ian Stewart as session and tour keyboardist. In June of 1969, guitarist Jones quit the group, quickly replaced by Mick Taylor. (Jones died a month later.) Taylor left in December of 1974; Ronnie Wood played (on loan from the Faces) on the 1975 tour, and the following year is installed as a permanent member. Bassist Wyman calls it quits in 1994. It seems that the Rolling Stones will survive as long as the Glimmer Twins (Jagger, Richards) continue to perform. With a new album and tour in 2005, it is still very much an active band.

The Beach Boys: Brothers Brian, Dennis, and Carl Wilson, cousin Mike Love, and friend Al Jardine (replaced briefly in 1962 and 1963 by David Marks) were the band. Brian quit touring in 1966, replaced briefly by Glen Campbell, and more permanently by Bruce Johnston. Dennis drowned in 1983. When Carl Wilson, Alan Jardine, Mike Love, and Bruce Johnston toured as the Beach Boys through 1997, there was a real legitimacy. But Carl died in 1998. [I went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame shortly after Carl's death, where they had a nice tribute piece to him and to another Carl who had died recently, Carl Perkins.] Mike Love and Bruce Johnston regained the legal right to use the Beach Boys name and have been touring as "The Beach Boys" ever since. Even with short-timer David Marks, it's hard for me to accept this band as the Beach Boys. Maybe if Mike & Bruce kissed and made up with Brian & Al (who was a respondent in a lawsuit for using the Beach Boys' name in his "Al Jardine's Family & Friends Beach Band", featuring Al's sons, Brian's daughters, and several former Beach Boys' backing musicians), then THAT would be the Beach Boys.

Herman's Hermits: There's the group headed by Barry Whitwam; it also featured Derek Leckenby before he died in 1994. Then there's Herman's Hermits Starring Peter Noone, which at least has the original Herman. The two groups create an unfortunate dilution of legitimacy.

Bob Dylan: No, wait, he's solo artist. He's just had so many phases in his career. He is 64 today - happy birthday to the "unwilling counterculture icon."

I liked what Cream did. They break up, the name's done, even though 2/3s of them (Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker) end up in Blind Faith. And when there's a Cream reunion this year (with Jack Bruce), there's no question of their legitimacy.

Say, this is FUN! Think I'll do it again with some more groups some other time.