Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

Monday, April 7, 2008

Three Steps To Heaven



In 10 days, on the 17th of April, a milestone will pass which few outside of a narrow swath of subculture enclaves in the American south and mid-south will memorialize here in America. The date marks the 48th anniversary of the passing of Eddie Cochran. Since my teenage years I’ve had a longtime fascination with Eddie Cochran, Gene Vincent and the rest of the rockabilly artists. The ill-fated 1960 tour of England, which took Cochran’s life and forever changed the dynamics in the lives of passengers Gene Vincent and Sharon Sheeley, seems to have morphed into nothing more than a footnote in the recent progression of popular music. This has less to do with the importance of the tour or the importance of those 3 people and it has everything to do with the evolving nature of the corporate popular music scene in America.

The winter of 1960 found Cochran, Sheeley and Vincent touring England, to a newfound and appreciative audience for the two rockers. Sheeley has been relegated through time and less appreciative writers, to being forever known as Eddie Cochran’s girlfriend at the time of the accident, but she was much more than that. Sheeley made a name for herself as a songwriter in the 50’s having penned hits for Ricky Nelson and Brenda Lee. She was collaborating with Eddie at the time of his death and had already co-written one of his hit songs in the States. It is one of those ‘what might have been’ questions to think of what a long-term collaboration between the two could have created. Cochran’s music was evolving along a path, which I believe is not far from the direction that Buddy Holly was taking before his early death in a frozen Iowa field. Had Eddie Cochran and Buddy Holly lived the direction of the American pop culture scene would have been radically different.

The impact of Cochran and Vincent on today’s music can be seen indirectly if you trace influences of those who came after them, but it can be seen directly if you know where to look and how to look for it. On the subject of their influence with other musicians you have to look no further than the British Invasion bands. Every member of every one of those bands cite both artists as having an enormous impact on their decision to become musicians, and for many of them seeing them perform on this tour is cited as one of if not the single most important touchstone moments in their musical careers.

There are few instances where a specific tour or concert or performance has had a direct impact in the upheaval of popular music, less than a handful have actually been the primary driver for cultural upheaval in America. The Beatles first appearance on Sullivan is, of course, one of the most notable of these events. Punk had a double dose of this in 1976 and 1977 when the Ramones and Johnny Thunders toured England. If you look back at every one of the early punk acts from England they all cite these two tours as the point where they turned on and the first performance of the Sex Pistols in Birmingham, as famously shown in the film 24 Hour Party People, was a breaking point for the English punk movement. Henry Rollins likes to tell his own story of seeing the Ramones in a DC club and every person who he was with that night in the car leaving the show started important bands. The Cochran and Vincent tour of England in 1960 was one of these moments in music history.

Looking back almost a half a century with eyes tainted by corporate music and corporate radio makes it difficult to gauge the works of the early rock pioneers. What seems quaint now, almost comical at times, is to look back at something that was genuinely dangerous and had the ability to alter the perspectives of the teenage mind. Many of today’s teenagers, especially the white, middle class kids, who listen almost exclusively to rap artists; have absolutely no concept that the idea of so called ‘race music’ was considered dangerous to white America. To them it may seem laughable but this was a deadly serious topic in the 50’s. Remember that in the summer of Emmitt Till’s horrifying death; segregation was the norm and in that year of 1955 Rosa Parks was arrested and Bill Haley and the Comets were immortalized in film with Rock Around The Clock’s release. This was just 5 short years before the death of Eddie Cochran and Elvis was still unknown outside southern music circles.

In April of 1960, the American pop music scene was undergoing a taming and polishing by the corporate masters. Elvis had already been neutered by Columbia Records and the Army. Jerry Lee Lewis was clinging on the fringes of music after the debacle following his marriage to his 13 year-old cousin. Little Richard was no longer dropping not-too-subtle hints at his sexuality to audiences and was instead singing secular music in churches. American teens were not being led astray as they had been in the 50’s, the game was closing and the powers that be had done a good job of stemming the tide. But we are talking about music and the undercurrents of culture…it is impossible for them to seal off every avenue of creative expression. In England, the ripple effects of the American music scene were just beginning to cascade across their shores.

Imagine for a moment that you live in that time, as a teenager. You may have started a skiffle band and were becoming slightly more confident in playing a banjo or some cheap guitar, a guitar that is so poorly made that the strings sit more than a ¼” off the fretboard…but you still keep playing and learning how songs are created, their structure and the hidden language and meaning behind music. Onto your scene drops Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran and a wave of music being imported from America and almost all of it has happened, under your radar, for years before they got there.

Now you are grooving out to Elvis, Buddy Holly, a mysterious style of music called the blues, sung by wild voiced and wild strumming guitarists. There is music about death and infidelity and loneliness and pain and uncertainty and it’s all against a backdrop of wild joy and youthfulness. This speaks to you, literally and figuratively. Somehow there is light coming from the deadly songs about alcohol; somehow there is wicked fashion and unspeakable style in their clothes, their language and their vocals. You see them for the first time at some theater in England and you see something wholly dramatic and American, you see the stage presence and the performing styles that are so unknown to you that your entire life changes in the blink of an eye out of some natural reflex.

Without this tour and the ending of Cochran’s life, we still would have had the Beatles and the Stones and The Who and The Kinks, but they would have been different, less effected by the artists they saw in that winter, 48 years ago. Jimmy Page would have still joined the Yardbirds, most likely, and Led Zeppelin would have still ground out their retelling of the American blues masters’ songs, but something would have been missing. Everyone who ever tried to play a Keith Richards riff would have still tried it, The Replacements would have still tried to be the Faces and the Stones, The Minutemen would have still adored The Who and Creedence. The Pixies would have still written weird songs and Kurt Cobain would have still offed himself at the worst possible time. Every miserable, smirking male vocalist in a band today would still be trying to sound like Eddie Vedder and that awful singer from Creed. But something would have filtered through this matrix in a different manner without Cochran and Vincent inspiring the beginning. The formula would have been altered.

Would The Who’s ‘Live At Leeds’ had such a signature song as Summertime Blues had it not been for Eddie Cochran? Maybe they would have been satisfied with playing Fortune Teller as their big cover song of the show? But then, would the blistering cover of Young Man Blues been so vicious without the input of Summertime Blues?

Would Elvis have made himself into a sex symbol for a second time had he not worn that black leather outfit in the ’68 special? Would Jim Morrison had worn those leather pants or would the Ramones worn leather jackets if it were not for Gene Vincent making that outfit his signature look? Maybe, maybe not. I seriously doubt that Michael Jackson would have thought up the single glove look on his own and that was also a direct steal from Vincent. But of course, Gene took liberties with his singing style by listening to Elvis.

Would low grind songs cook over onstage if Gene Vincent and his Blue Caps had not shown everyone how to properly do it onstage when they did Be Bop A Lula? Maybe they would have, after all, James Brown did it with his stage show and a cape. The trick of taking one of your hit songs, slowing it down more and more during the verse and playing with the audience until you kick them in the balls with the chorus and some massive power of sound can be heard in live performances all across the Rock genre. Even Tom Petty made the live version of Breakdown much better than the studio version by employing this trick. Gene Vincent was the master of it, even if he didn’t invent it. Jerry Lee was wowing audiences with this when he broke out and in fact his shockingly great European TV appearances in the 60’s show him doing this like it’s second nature and it smokes.

We stand where we are today because someone or a group of people, in the past, led us to this point. Knowingly or unknowingly they spun us down a new path and spiraled off into their own universes. Eddie died. Gene tried to carry on but his health failed him. Sharon continued to write hit songs but the spark and connection she had with the early rock pioneers was lost as the music industry changed.

So where do we stand now? How did we get to the point we are now, where music is just thought of as a free file to load onto an iPod? Why does the herd still lead the trends of youth and why do kids with such incredible savvy and insight and with access to information that should empower them, still not ‘get’ the past and how it actually relates to their life today? How and why does radio still play the same shitty 2 dozen songs when we have hundreds of thousands of songs from the past 50 years to listen to? Want to know why? Really know why?

Music is inherently dangerous as a medium of expression. It doesn’t take money to make music, it doesn’t take money to promote music and it doesn’t take money to disseminate music. Music is, at it’s most basic level, a form of communication. The rhythms, the lyrics, the stories, the emotions and the actual act of performing songs are communication at its purest level. Dangerous messages aren’t always explicitly told in song, they are usually cloaked as something else and peek into your mind on a different level, once there they work on your subconscious and that is incredibly dangerous to those who hold power. This Land Is Your Land is one of the greatest American songs, ever. Woody Guthrie’s greatest gift to humanity comes in the form of that song. Look at the lyrics not with the eye of the average American but through the filtered lenses of the people who truly hold the reigns of power and you will say, “Uh oh.” And all of this subversion is offered up in an easy to know Baptist hymn, ‘When The World’s On Fire’ so you’ll know how it’s supposed to be sung.

Music has a way of seeping through the cracks and controls put in place by our corporate masters. When Napster first hit the scene I thought it would herald a new direction since all the recorded music to date could be easily accessed by anyone. With the flow of thoughts and ideas and inspiration I honestly believed the new revolution, to steal from Pete Townshend, was about to take place and music would lead us there. It didn’t happen and it won’t happen with file sharing and it won’t be happening until there is another, more fundamental sea change in American life.

Music is not a file on your computer. Music is not a tradable commodity like the pictures you took at your birthday party or of your friends when you were doing Jell-O shots on Spring Break. Music isn’t an overly compressed and void of dynamics world of sound, it has depth and variables. Your music doesn’t define you; it’s the other way around. Music is not a snapshot of who you are that is broken down into bits, music is a complete canvas of massive dimensions, telling many stories and you aren’t in all of those stories. It doesn’t fit on an iPod and no matter how large your collection it doesn’t fit on the shelves at home. Other than the philosophical teachings of Christ it may be the greatest support tool a person can have in their home.

Music is like math; it is a universal means of communication. Music has an advantage though as you don’t need to be able to count to ‘get’ it and even the most abstract musical ideas can be comprehended by a person with no formal training. Even if you have no formal training or even care about music as being more than background noise, you can still hear something, by someone, that will make you happy or tap your toes.

Music is our gift from God. Music, in my opinion, is proof that God exists.

The powers that be did not cause the crash that killed Eddie Cochran. They didn’t hide Gene Vincent from the public. The powers that be didn’t unleash the Beatles, to usher in decade and cause unrest among the teens. The powers that be made money off them, loads of money. They did, however, alter the music scene to lessen the impact of wild spirits like Elvis and Jerry Lee and Gene and even Wanda Jackson. They did this to make the ‘product’ more compartmentalized, predictable, sellable and less unstable. Artists like Beatles and Nirvana slipped through the cracks, their true nature unknown to the powers.

Now I know someone is saying this doesn’t make a bit of sense. Why would a company try to limit their market share and limit the variety of musical acts they sell? It doesn’t seem smart in the game of making money. Well, the short answer to that is artists like I have described cannot be controlled by the corporations and sooner or later they infect the minds of their fans and the next thing you know there is chaos on the market.

Think of it this way. Artists like Elvis and Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins started on small independent labels, in this case, Sun Records. They were absorbed into the larger corporate labels but their influence and the influence of Sam Phillips spawned generations of new labels and new artists, each bringing with them new perspective on what has come before and what they want to bring the world. This evolves over time. From the time that Eddie Cochran died until Greg Ginn founded SST Records, only 18 years had passed. From SST Records an entire generation of influential artists became realized and some of them lived, not just talked about, doing everything without the support of corporations or their support mechanisms.

“Paint your own picture. Write your own book. Start your own band.” That was the battle cry of The Minutemen. I’m sure many of the suits laughed at this idea, the smart ones would have looked over the rim of their glasses and understood they have a problem if that sort of idea gets around too fast. This is the thought process that has navigated behind the scenes in corporate America for decades and decades. We stand at the point where it has been perfected. The corporations not only control what you see and read and hear, they control all entry to these areas of communication. This was the threat imposed by the Internet. If enough artists took advantage of the medium and the technology, the corporations would be left out of the loop. The Internet is dying because of corporate governance and greed, the seed of creativity and DIY ethic is lost even with tools lying around that artists can really use.

There was a time when a 4-track recorder could make demos but they weren’t capable of dynamic and highly professional recordings, and they were expensive. Today, a kid with a PC and some software can make music that is dynamic, polished and they have no filtering of a producer or engineer who may steer them in a more commercial path. A guitar, a USB connected device, software and a microphone and you could become the next Jeff Buckley or George Harrison or James Brown. You could shake the tree of music and watch the nuts fall from the branches. This is what the labels and multi-national conglomerates did not want to happen.

They dumbed all of us down. It started in the 50’s when they took away Elvis’ mascara and marginalized Jerry Lee for marrying a 13 year-old cousin. They dumbed us down some more by dumping sub-standard pop to compete with highly polished pop in the aftermath of the British invasion. They took us down a notch further when they signed any band with a synthesizer and funky clothes in the 80’s or any band with a lot of hairspray and a guy playing scales on a Super Strat. They kept clearing the breech by making the dirge and pain of Grunge into a fashion statement to be bought at your mall. They eroded the direct finger pointing and calling out of Ice T and NWA by telling every suburban kid that it’s all about the Benjamins and sex and dope and nothing more and that all is well as long as you don't call the powers that be for their bullshit. That is shit the kids today should have known better to pursue simply because they are more worldly than we ever were.

The corporate masters want us dumb, they want us compliant and they want us to stay in our place and do what they expect us to do. This is why the exchange of music over the Internet, coupled with inexpensive and powerful recording software and dirt-cheap musical instruments didn’t deliver a musical revolution. Quite frankly, we don’t have it in us to rebel or stand up. Too much snarkiness to cut through and the ‘serious’ musicians don’t get the dope and babes that the dumbasses get.

Gene Vincent died for nothing, and in pain. Eddie Cochran died for nothing in an English hospital. Their deaths were and still are tragic. Their lives…perfect. They lived for something and left an inspiration that created much more than they were able to create in their short life spans. Somewhere there are two beautiful souls singing, one strumming a gorgeous Gretsch guitar with hot pickups and an amp full of warm tone. The other is wearing a black leather suit and looks ready to steal your girlfriend if you aren’t careful. Godspeed to the souls of Eddie Cochran and Gene Vincent.

Friday, October 12, 2007

High Weirdness Drifter

The week is coming to a close, the weather is cooling off a bit and even though I haven’t had a lot of free time to make blog entries I certainly feel more energetic. I’m going to need that energy as I am in the process of moving to a new apartment in a few weeks. To all the visitors and feed subscribers out there, you can expect new postings but bear with me until early to mid-November. I hate the process of moving.

The recent upswing in Ron Paul mania has me think a lot more about the Republican and Democratic bathing beauties that have been trotted out for us to vote for. Now that we have had many debates and have been able to see these waterheads in action for a while there is a much better picture to look at with each candidate. I’m planning on writing a series of posts which will look at each candidate with an eye toward the topics that I blog about. To be honest, the cutting sarcasm and humor I often use is going to be unavoidable. Fair warning to all on this but at the least I can assure you that there will be some humor involved.

Let’s take a look at the news of late and see what is being overlooked by the mainstream press and what is odd, ominous and just plain goofy:

Al Gore has won the Nobel Peace Prize for his contributions in the field of global warming awareness and education. I guess the selection committee overlooked my idea on how to combat global warming – leave the door to your refrigerator open. http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/13/world/13nobel.html?ref=us

Speaking of the environment, your illustrious blogger may need to ask for donations of water by time 2008 rolls around. Lake Lanier, which supplies the water for the metropolitan Atlanta area, is 3 months away from going dry. Overdevelopment, piss-poor water management and a 100 year drought has transformed us from a “City among the trees” to a city drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds. I’d do a rain dance but the last time I danced in public folks thought I was having an epileptic seizure. http://www.ajc.com/search/content/metro/stories/2007/10/10/wateruse_1011.html

If it weren’t bad enough that only a handful of Americans support the crap happening in Washington, now the country of Turkey is pissed off at Congress too. They’ve recalled their ambassador and they are threatening to cut logistical support to our bases in Iraq and Afghanistan because of a vote to declare the Armenian Massacre as genocide. It’s a sad state of affairs when even a legitimate issue is cause for a pile on of this proportion. I haven’t been able to find a news article that explains what prompted this timely resolution. Afterall, it only happened nearly a century ago. Why now? http://www.boston.com/news/world/articles/2007/10/12/turkey_swift_to_admonish_us_over_vote

The CIA is ticked off at it’s own Inspector General for blowing the whistle on numerous fuckups and nightmare activities. What has the CIA decided to do about it? Investigate him. Yes, that’s right, folks. When you have a shitload of power and don’t like fair criticism you don’t have to change your ways when your criminal and negligent behavior is exposed. All you have to do is sic the dogs on the critic. http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-cia12oct12,1,318772.story?coll=la-headlines-nation&track=crosspromo

If your kids are sick and you are a middle-class worker fighting like hell to not fall into a financial cesspool, the President thinks you should go fuck yourself if you think you are going to get a lifeline thrown to you. The waterheaded water carriers of the Sociopath in Chief think it’s a case of basic economics, common sense and a question of people thinking they have a “birthright to unlimited benefits”
http://www.timesonline.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=18902955&BRD=2305&PAG=461&dept_id=478566&rfi=6

Bush is also pitching a hissy fit over the safeguards that have been added to legislation that covers the programs that spy on American citizens. Once Bush throws himself on the floor, begins screaming at the top of his lungs, kicking and telling Congress that he hates them, they will cave in and give the baby his bottle. Yes, the Constitution is important but with all the wailing and embarrassment they will give in and give him what he wants. I guess we are living in a nanny state. http://www.rttnews.com/sp/todaystop.asp?date=10/11/2007&item=24&vid=0

What sort of black programs are the spy masters using to create robotic spy insects? Get those fly swatters at the ready folks! http://yro.slashdot.org/article.pl?sid=07/10/11/131214

Marion Jones has boo-hoo’d her way into our hearts for admitting that she is a lying, cheating, convicted felon. Like Don King always says, only in America. One down, many more to go. http://www.jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20071011/cleisure/cleisure1.html

Last but not least…I have been on a serious reggae kick of late. It’s a genre that has held a special place in my heart since my early teenage years when I thought The Clash was the end all, be all of rock and roll. Those cats got me into it and it was so hard for me to find and buy reggae back then. This was pre-Internet and the little mountain town I was raised in had no record stores. The closest record store, in fact, was 30 miles away. I had to rely on mail order and buying stuff sight unseen, artist unheard of.

Back then I would find out who influenced who and tried to buy records from artists who’s name constantly cropped up in this interview or that article or those reviews. Sometimes I ordered stuff that I instantly hated, sometimes I found gems that made my innocent little eyes grow large with glee within two measures of the first cut. I often look back at my teenage years and the hoops I jumped through to get new and good music and I feel nostalgic and amazed at the whole process. The thrill of the hunt is gone with downloads and the act of sitting down to listen to music is a ritual that few even know of, let alone those who still do it. Times change and this is an area where I have stayed isolated and within my routine.

So, for your enjoyment and my own selfish pleasure, here is the marvelous, incomperable, unstopable, untopable and roots deeper than your own soul; Prince Buster live at Club Sombrero in 1962!


Friday, October 5, 2007

Finish the week with Half Pint

Some weeks make my Mormon cash cow (Franklin Covey planning system) look like the journal of the busiest man on earth. Tasks get completed on time, I'm able to pull jobs forward and complete them ahead of schedule and my monthly task list shrinks almost overnight. I feel happy, productive and on the ball.

Some weeks turn out like the one we are finishing.

There is only one thing you can do in these circumstances.

Drop the dub.

Half Pint - Cost Of Living

Friday, June 1, 2007

What’s the name of this? Badge?

I heard one of the classic summer pop songs of all-time yesterday afternoon while I was driving back from lunch. “Hot Fun in the Summertime” is one of those wonderful Sly Stone classics that shows just how great of a songwriter he really was. That incredible moment when Larry Graham delivers the verse, “first of the fall and then she goes back” is always one of those melting points for me.

The whole structure of that verse acts like a bridge in a song that actually has no bridge. This has made me think a bit about the greatest bridges and I thought I would put up a small personal top 5 list of great bridges that come to mind.

Writing a great bridge is one of those songwriter skills that is so important and overlooked, especially in this day and age of music, pop, rock or otherwise. The bridge, when it's done well, can move a song into a new territory or enhance/change the mood that a song creates. If done with a particularly strong sense of melody the bridge can break your heart or make your crazy dance more intense.

So, here is a list of this paranoid’s top 5 bridges, in no particular order:

“I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles. The moment the song shifts down a gear in tempo and key when the verse “and when I’m with you..” it’s obvious that they understood the structure and power of pop music. This is great on two levels (1) it’s placement in the song which gives it a new color and vibrancy, and (2) it foreshadows the songcraft skills the band will show in the explosion of growth and creativity they will have over a short handful of years.

“Invisible Sun” by The Police. I think I can start an argument over this choice, especially over what I define as the bridge. Technically the bridge would be the instrumental part after the second chorus where Andy Summers is bending the strings on his Telecaster while “whoa-o-a-ohs” are being sung in the background. But, I think the true bridge to this song is that great descending chord, crescendo section that connects the verse to the chorus. It’s that off-key delivery that get’s me, especially with Stewart Copeland’s fantastic snare snap just before the chorus begins.

“Georgia On My Mind” and “Stardust” by Hoagy Carmichael. I had to put both of these songs together. To this day Stardust can stop me in my tracks whenever I hear it played or performed and I have to admit that Brother Ray’s version of Georgia On My Mind with that lush orchestration of the bridge fills me with longing for something I can't define. Carmichael was such an amazing songwriter...and his stuff is damn fun to play on the ukulele!

“Say Goodbye to Hollywood” by Billy Joel. I’ve always wished that this song had been a big hit for Ronnie Spector, especially since it was written for her. I think it’s a great bridge not only in the structure of the song itself but it has a certain symbolism to me, with it’s dated late 70’s quality being inserted into a crafted in the style of a Ronettes song, structure. If Ronnie had had a hit with this she would have been sitting pretty as the 80’s dawned. I don't care if Ronnie Spector is as crazy as a bed bug, to this day I wish I could have the chance to meet her.

“Love Reign O’er Me” by The Who – The way the song becomes more poignant, heart breaking and open as Pete Townshend delivers that descending scale and then the bridge kicks in with “On the dry and dusty road..” with Pete playing an ascending scale on that Gretsch, always shows me just how well this band understood the power of not just the ideas that rock could create, but they understood the common dreams that rock fans shared. It adds to the overall power of the song, one of The Who’s greatest, and in the structure of Quadrophenia it just adds to the detail and sense of personal connection that I, and many other people, feel to the album. I try very hard to not find a personal identification with songs and albums because it's a dangerous way of appreciating art. Like reading poetry, you take great risks when you too closely identify words to the writer or selfishly to yourself, but Quadrophenia is one of the 3 albums I relate to on a deeply personal level. Mike Watt’s “Contemplating the Engine Room” and Jeff Buckley’s “Grace” being the other two.

How about it? Any additions you can think of for great bridges?

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Rock is dead they say.

In a post a few weeks back, I asked where the danger has gone in rock music. I’m sure that quite a bit of the danger that surround rock and its fans and its musicians, transferred to the hip hop scene some years ago and has transformed into an implied violence of an entirely different nature. There was a time, and a certain number and type of bands, that once elicited the possibility of a fan riot, especially if the police got too hostile or made a show of force. This happened many times at punk shows in LA during the early 80’s.

I don’t believe that the possibility of physical violence was an essential component to the spirit of what was rock and roll, but the danger subtext was always a central and essential component to the music. When I say danger I mean the word in more ways than a simple description of the possibility that people will be harmed. Danger, depending on the era and tone of the community, could mean many things.

The great Wayne Cochran built a reputation of putting on energetic, emotional and wild shows in certain clubs and during a certain time where he pushed boundries that weren't supposed to be pushed. Cochran, the man for whom the term “Blue Eyed Soul” was created to describe, often crossed over to the chitlin’ circuit clubs in the south at a time when not only was segregation was the norm, but also at a time when dogs, black jacks and bullets were used on the black community with little care or concern. This was dangerous. Add in a massive, platinum blonde pompadour haircut and it’s a wonder the man was never beaten half to death by the rednecks with badges.

The act of pure physical expression by young people at shows and their styles of dancing were dangerous to the status quo. Pete Townshend recently posted a quick description of something to his biography blog, which makes this point even more tangible in this regard. Townshend described a woman dancing at an early Who show and this was what he had to say,
“At an all nighter at the Club Noreik I noticed a very sexy blonde girl dancing in front of the stage. She wasn’t a Mod. She looked more like an art student, and was dancing like a lunatic, all arms and boobs.”


If you’ve been to enough shows in your life, you know exactly what Pete is talking about. You’ve seen it, you’ve done it yourself, you’ve probably dated a girl who danced exactly like he’s describing. Maybe you married her. Maybe you were that girl. Whenever I have imagined in my head exactly what describes the essence of rock music, in all it’s flavors, what Pete describes is an image I’ve always drawn upon among others. I even have my own stories where what he described was something I personally experienced. The girl who was a few rows down from me at a James Brown show in 1986, who wore a tight black sweater, and whom I wished was my girl when I saw her letting it go. The girl I dated briefly in Virginia, who danced like that at a Smithereens show we went to in Virginia Beach in 1988 or 89. This girl made other guys give me the eye of envy and anger. It’s an iconic image and so very powerful on levels beyond what you first imagine.

I’ve been feeling very sentimental of late regarding music. Not the syrupy sweet form of sentimentality. I’m talking about the sentimentality that comes from looking back while asking questions about today and tomorrow. The curse of getting older and coping with middle age is looking back with eyes that still see the past as though it happened only yesterday.

I don’t want to go back and live it all over again. I don’t want to be young again today. I simply wish there was a touchstone that I could see which reflected what it is to be a person in middle age today, that spoke to me in the same way that The Minutemen’s “This ain’t no picnic” or Alice in Chains’ “Got me wrong” spoke to me back then. Sometimes the real danger that embodied rock wasn’t violence or girls shaking for all they were worth or young men with pumped fists in the air. Sometimes the real danger of rock was when it spoke of the realities of life and the fans responded with, “Thank God someone said what I’ve been feeling and thinking!”

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Oh, me bleedin' ears hurt


I'm having a great deal of trouble focusing this morning. I have a ringing, roaring wave in my ears. The tinnitus is back in spades. I'm an apartment dweller, which means that if the mood strikes me to crank it up at 1:00 AM, the headphones have to come out. Otherwise I'd be looking for a new place to live every few months. I'm too old for that.

There are still a lot of albums and CDs in my collection that aren't safe to play at any volume, any time of the day. Most people don't share my continuing love of Fear or the Dead Kennedys even though their heyday has been over for close to two decades now. Even Fugazi can elicit funny looks from the neighbors unless you live in the bohemian enclave of your city.

I've been having insomnia problems of late so at 1:00 AM last night I had one of those needs to put on The Who. You can't play The Who at moderate levels, regardless of the time of day or your age. Out came the newer, deluxe editions of Live at Leeds and Who's Next. I felt better, was able to fall asleep and now my ears are roaring.

Of course years of doing this as well as going to shows where my goal was to get as close to the big full stacks of Marshalls, and listening to my own guitar "skills" through headphones have not exactly helped the cause. The damage was done years ago, I'm only exasperating them. Where the hearing loss is most apparent is when I am eating out with someone and I can't hear through the mid-range background noise that is common in a restaurant, or even a bar. "Eh?" "What?" "I Can't hear what your saying." I am not a lot of fun on a dinner date.

With The Who still in my head this morning I've started to wonder about an aspect of R&R that's been missing for a long time, one that I miss. Are there any bands left who just drip in danger and possibility like The Who and others did in their day? I can distinctly remember skinheads causing a near riot at The Fox here in Atlanta when they showed up on Peachtree as the fans were leaving after seeing The Clash. That, was real danger and the Clash's fans weren't dumb thugs. The thugs dropped by to have a go and the Clash fans wouldn't abide. This wasn't just an adrenaline pumping addiction the fans had, there was a sense that anything was possible at some concerts. I once left a Replacements show in the mid-80's, one where they were "on" and felt like anything was possible in this world. I still miss Bob Stinson.

Do they even make music like that anymore?

Saturday, May 5, 2007

Support the arts

I'm spending a little time this afternoon doing some maintenance to the blog and I've added links to a few blogs and websites belonging to musicians. Some of you may wonder what connection they have to conspiracy theory? They short answer is that they don't, but they share common traits with the typical CT enthusiast. Free thinking, alternate views of reality and tapping into creative expression; those are the traits shared with the typical CT enthusiast.

I'm very big on supporting artists of all art forms, these are people who I believe deserve all the web traffic, financial support and recognition that can be given. If you have any recommendations, or requests to have a link removed, please feel free to send them to me at theconspiratorsnest@gmail.com and I'll certainly respond. More will be added as time goes along.

In the meantime, click those links and if you aren't already familiar with the works of artist Mack White or musicians Henry Rollins, Mike Watt and Bob Mould, enjoy the trip and check out their work.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

No jail time for Willie Nelson

You can almost hear the deflated sigh of disapointment from the inmates of St. Martins Parish jail.


ST. MARTINVILLE, La. - Willie Nelson and his tour manager were spared jail time Tuesday after pleading guilty to a misdemeanor count of marijuana possession.

Nelson and tour manager David Anderson, along with Nelson’s sister, Bobbie Nelson, and two drivers, were issued citations on Sept. 18 after state troopers said they found marijuana and hallucinogenic mushrooms on the country legend’s tour bus during a commercial-vehicle inspection on Interstate 10.

State District Judge Paul deMahy fined Nelson and Anderson $1,024 each and put both on probation for six months. As part of a plea agreement, the citation against Bobbie Nelson was dismissed.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

100 Millionth iPod sold

According to Census data there are more than 230 million Americans over the age of 16. So it appears that Apple will now have to focus their attention on the final 130 million of us who still are not iPod owners. What can Apple offer to make the rest of us Luddites, audiophiles and stalwarts to take the plunge and buy one?

At this point in the game it is probably too late for us to join the ranks of iPod owners. We have become set in our ways and simply refuse to buy one out of principal alone. What would the incentive be to jump on the bandwagon when the shark has already been jumped? The hip factor left us a long time ago and is in the closet with that pair of Cuban heeled boots that we just can't bring ourselves to part with.

Knowing the reputation of Steve Jobs he can't simply write us off. He'll need to re-double his efforts and come up with some new device that appeals to the rest of us the moment we see it. How about an iVinyl player? My design choice can be seen above.