The Stuff Tapes
In 1986, I began courting Ashley Peck. I was teaching at Sapulpa Junior High and she was a student at the University of Oklahoma.
Ash had been a student of mine years before. After her graduation, she went to University of Oklahoma in Norman. That summer I ran into her as she worked at the fireworks stand belonging to her boyfriend’s family. We gossiped. I found out she was going to Tulsa junior College for some summer courses and I was driving back and forth to Stillwater working on some Master’s degree stuff. I asked her to look for a source for me at the TJC library.
That year at OU, Ash and her boyfriend broke up. She dated several other guys after that, but when she returned for the next summer, she started working at the Elk’s Lodge as a lifeguard. The lodge was just 3 blocks away from the duplex I shared with another coach, Wade Mosley. Ash started coming over during her breaks to drink my lemonade. At least that’s what I first thought.
It wasn’t until July that I worked up the nerve, with the incredible urging and massive insults form my buddy Mo, to kiss her for the first time.
Weird thing for me. I wasn’t the world’s biggest dater and spent a lot of my time with my brothers, a cousin, a couple buddies from college and the coaches I worked with.
We started to see each other. She brought over pizza. She actually asked me out to a movie and dinner. I said I was a little slow in the dating department.
But, football season rolled around and school started at OU. I went back into coaching all day long and Ash left for OU and her sorority.
Her mom and dad were not my best supporters in this romance. Dad didn’t want her dating her ex-teacher, even though she was out of school, in college and I wasn’t exactly an old fart. Meanwhile, I was thinking that the long distance romance was probably going to be tough. I knew from previous experience with long distance romance, that football season is a very unforgiving thing. It takes all of your time, weekends and evenings, and drains you to a point of exhaustion. And, that’s in a good year!
I started sending Ashley mix tapes. They were filled with romantic songs from almost every era of music. I couldn’t think of a better way than to keep me in her mind than by providing the background music of her fall semester.
I called the tapes “Stuff Tapes.” It was a reference to a comment one of us made, and now I can’t quite remember the context, about love and all that stuff. I flooded the US mail with cassette tapes bearing my musical courting. Sometimes, I would leave a little whispered message at the end of the tape.
Now, here’s the tough part. A Mix tape is not just a collection of music. It must be carefully put together, flowing form one song to the next. You can’t just follow a tender, heart breaking song like Cocker’s version of “You Are So Beautiful” with something filled with wailing guitars and screaming voices.
It’s like the movie, “High Fidelity.” In fact, years later, my wife bought me that novel because the guy, his perchance for making mix tapes and his obsession with lists seemed to mirror my reason for existence. John Cusak’s role talks about the importance of the well designed mix.
You also have to be careful that you actually know the lyrics to the song. Just because the Police made the seemingly romantic song, “Every Breath You Take,” doesn’t mean it is romantic. The song is actually sort of a stalker song about the woman who broke his heart. Not good to send to a potential sweetheart.
A mix tape, and especially one with romantic intent, shouldn’t be an overt hump soundtrack…like AC/DC’s “Shook Me All Night Long,” or even a soft song, with soaring vocals like the Air Supply version of the Jim Steinman song “Making Love Out of Nothing At All.” AC/DC is what you sing to the local streetwalker. The Air Supply tune, like a lot of Steinman tunes, has a twist in it. Sounds romantic, but has that little dark side in it. Like Asia’s “Heat of the Moment.” Turns out to be about the girl who squandered it all and ended up lonely.
Now, the best romantic song ever, according to old crooner Frank Sinatra, was George Harrison’s Beatles tune “Something.” Simple, but powerful lyrics… whew…
“Something in the way she moves,
Attracts me like no other lover.”
For your romantic mix, I have a few suggestions. Some are well known. A few others a less popular, but no less right for that perfect mix tape, or CD, or play list in the modern IUPOD.
“Something” by the Beatles
“Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney
I Loved You Before I Knew You” by Savage Garden
“Love Reign Over Me” by the Who
“Heaven” by Yusuf Islam , the old Cat Stevens
“A Certain Girl” by Warren Zevon
“Eternal Love” by Utopia featuring Todd Rundgren
“A Dream Goes On Forever” by Todd Rundgren
“Hot Summer Night” by Meat Loaf
“Tattoo” by Novo Combo
and many more….
Funny, when the Beatles broke up, one of the caustic things that Lennon said about McCartney was that he wrote “silly Love Songs.” So, McCartney wrote one of that name and made a million seller of it. And, it’s true, he did write a lot of happy love songs. Maybe the nearly 30 years he was married to Linda was some indication of that.
Of course, Lennon had his love songs too. “Dear Yoko,” “Oh My Love”, “(Just Like) Staring Over,” and “Grow Old Along With Me” would fit on anyone’s love mix.
Well, apparently, the “Stuff” tapes did their job, and we were married in Jan. of ’87. We have two great sons. We are headed toward our 23rd anniversary soon. Music is still a big part of every day for us. We still make pal lists for each other…for encouragement, for love, for hope.
Ashley recently made me one titled “The Bottom of The Box.” It refers to the bottom of Pandora’s box after she had let the evil escape. In the bottom, there was still Hope. Things had been kind of rough for me, and that music was to give me some hope, help and inspiration. It included songs like U2’s “Sometimes You Can’t Make IT on Your Own.”
Music… what is it to us?
Why do we listen to it when we are happy? Why do we listen when we are sad? Why do we listen to it when we use it to psych us up for competition? Why do we use it to set the mood?
Ever see a movie without a musical background? It seems deathly quiet and gray. Ever jog without music when you’ve been using it to run to for a while? Try working out with and without. Which is better?
Our music is hardwired into us. It begins in the womb with the heartbeat of our mother and continues with the throb of our own pulses. There is a rhythm to everyday life; clicking, pounding, whirring, blaring and croaking. The sounds are all around us, and they blend into our daily life, only evident in their absence.
I read an article once, in Discover magazine, about a musician who had a brain injury. He had been a composer, but after the injury, when he heard music, to him it sounded like jangling racket. His rhythm and music was hardwired into his very brain. It is more than an emotional part of us. It is us.
AUM, Harmony OF The Spheres, etc… whatever you call it, people have recognized that for millennia. When it comes from an IPOD or cell phone, is it no less a connection to the universal?
It is still that innate thing in us.
The Stuff tapes were just that. As I tried to send to her in song the feelings I had, it touched, in both of us, something universal. Something cosmic.
Who would have thought that a small Memorex tape could bear something of cosmic importance?
It did.
Music, Love, and the seeds of our present family all traveled across the state of Oklahoma, borne by Eros in the guise of the US Postal service.
And, what did it contain? Love and all that Stuff.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Should Have Been a Rock Star- Dec 8, 1980
December 8 1980
The day we lost Lennon
I think it is the recent death of Michael Jackson, and the outpouring of grief of people who were his devoted fans that really draws me back almost 30 years to the day that I lost one of the icons of my youth. I remember when Elvis died. Both of my then sister-in-laws were he Elvis fans. I had a hard time comprehending why they were so upset over the loss of a pop singer, and probably said some joking things that I, then, thought was funny, but in retrospect, were cruel to those were his devotees.
I learned that lesson on December 8, 1980.
I was about 1 ½ years into my first teaching job. In August I had moved into a house in Sapulpa with my asst. coach and friend, Bud Sexson. We shared a small rental house and spent most of our free time around sports. We both coached Junior High football and he coached wrestling in the winter. I was free until spring track.
On Monday nights, we settled in the living room, Monday Night Football on the television. I usually had on headphones, listening to music and grading as I watched the visual part of the game. I must admit I had never been a big fan of the broadcasters who narrated the games. Especially Howard Cosell. This was his era in Monday Night Football.
Sometime around 10:30 pm, Bud shook my arm… saying “hey.. you’ve got to hear this. “ I took off the head phones and listened to Cosell make the announcement that apparently John Lennon had been shot.. Bud knew that I was a huge Beatles fan, as evidenced by my Beatles collection, both as a group and solo artists. I was stunned. I left the headphones off waiting for more news about John and the attack.
IT was just a few moments later that Cosell came back on with the tragic news.
“This, we have to say it, remember this is just a football game, no matter who wins or loses. An unspeakable tragedy, confirmed to us by ABC News in New York City: John Lennon, outside of his apartment building on the West Side of New York City, the most famous, perhaps, of all The Beatles, shot twice in the back, rushed to the Roosevelt Hospital, dead on arrival.”
I was stunned. John, the leader and rebel of the Beatle years was gone. He had just recently released his first new LP in 5 years, “Double Fantasy.” The song, “Just Like Starting Over” was frequent on the airwaves. John, after an absence that he spent as a househusband, caring for his new son born in 1975 on John’s own birthday, was gone.
The television that night was filled with news of Lennon’s death, and very little information about the event. ABC broke into programming to make the announcement. Walter Cronkite relayed the news to a watching population. I sat, switching channels, trying to find out if somehow there had been a mistake in the reporting. Maybe, it was all a big mistake.
I received two calls that night. The first call came from the girl I dated, Cas, who was a student at Kansas University. Cas had seen the news and knowing my feeling about the Beatles, called me to see how I was doing. A then student of mine, Ashley Peck, also called me. She, too, knew of my connection to the Beatles and called to talk with me about the shooting, in case I ahd not heard. Interesting, that today, after nearly 30 years, cas and I are still good friends and Ash and I have been married for 22 years.
The next few days, grieving fans swallowed the area around the Dakota apartments, where Yoko and son, Sean, lived. Flowers and pictures decorated the entrance to the apartments where the fatal shooting had occurred. People sang John’s songs and stood, in mass shock at the loss of a cultural icon. Who, alive then, did not have some memory attached to a song by John or the Beatles?
There was no funeral for John. He was cremated two days later. Yoko had made this announcement to the world…
"There is no funeral for John. John loved and prayed for the human race. Please do the same for him. Love, Yoko and Sean.”
She also requested that the thousands who thronged the area around the Dakotas re-convene on Dec. 14th for a 10 minute, world wide silence for John. 30,000 gathered in London. 100,000 filled Central park. I, along with my cousin, Rob, his sisters and others joined scores of people in a silence sponsored by KMOD, the local FM rock station. Me met, somber and quite, as music played form loud speakers, and as the time grew near, the crowd bowed heads in silent remorse, shared by a chain of fans from around the globe.
More news came out about John’s assassin, Mark David Chapman. He had been a Lennon imitator, as far as dress, granny glasses and even marrying a Japanese wife. He sometimes signed his name as John Lennon. But, in Dec., of 1980, Chapman bought a plane ticket from Hawaii to NYC with the twisted plan of killing the man he felt had sold out to materialism.
Chapman waited outside the Dakota apartments the day of the 8th. Lennon was visited by Annie Leibowitz, Rolling Stone photographer who took candid shots of Lennon and Ono. Lennon also gave an interview in which he said that he liked being older and making music for everyone who survived the 60’s. He had just turned 40 on October the 8th of the same year.
At 5 pm, Lennon and Ono left the apartments for a studio session to remix tracks. On the way to his car, Lennon stopped to sign autographs from fans. One of those fans was Chapman, who had Lennon sign on his copy of “Double Fantasy.” Lennon left. Chapman drifted near the apartments, sitting and reading a book.
They were at the studio for several hours and returned to the Dakota at about 10:20 pm (EST). Later, the Dakota doorman said he saw Chapman standing in the shadows nearby. As Ono and Lennon passed by, Chapman stepped out and fired 5 shots, 4 of which struck Lennon in the back. He was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital, even though he was still alive when the rushed him into a car.
Chapman was arrested without a struggle. The doorman had taken his gun and he sat silently waiting for the police. Chapman had been reading the book “The Catcher in The Rye.” Chapman apparently saw himself as the Catcher in th Rye, protecting others from Lennon.
People all over the world mourned John. The remaining Beatles made public statements about John. Paul recorded “Here Today” about John. George recorded “All Those Years Ago” with the help of both Paul and Ringo. Elton John, good friend of John and Yoko, released “Empty Garden (Hey, Hey Johnny).” Even bands like Queen (“”Life is Real”-song for John”), Molly Hatchet (“Fall of the Peacemakers”) and close buddy Harry Nilsson’s “Lay Down Your Arms” either mourned the loss of artist, icon and friend or chided the public on the USA’s easy access gun laws.
Later, in 1984the award winning film, “The Killing Fields,” made the poignant use of the song “Imagine.” I can recall, sitting in the dark theater, tears streaming down my dace as the chords of the song echoed around the theater. The moment in the movie was both touching and memorable, but I think that, too, I shed those tears for the loss I still felt over John’s death.
As Christmas break arrived, Cas drove down to visit me in Sapulpa. I was still in school for a one last day, and occasionally I was called to run a substitute bus route before my classes. She rode with me, sitting in the front seat as I guided the large Orangish-Yellow behemoth (my own Yellow Submarine) along a country route. The young kids, jacketed against the cold Oklahoma December morning, anxious for winter break, jabbered and flirted. The radio, small, tinny speakers set in to the bus walls, strained to be heard above the raucous din.
It was then I heard the three bells that introduced “Just Like Starting Over.” I turned, looking over my shoulder at Cas. Bundled, warm inside the clattery bus, she smiled, acknowledging the song.
“It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by my love
It'll be just like starting over, starting over”
I nodded and smiled back. John is gone, but forever always around me.
The day we lost Lennon
I think it is the recent death of Michael Jackson, and the outpouring of grief of people who were his devoted fans that really draws me back almost 30 years to the day that I lost one of the icons of my youth. I remember when Elvis died. Both of my then sister-in-laws were he Elvis fans. I had a hard time comprehending why they were so upset over the loss of a pop singer, and probably said some joking things that I, then, thought was funny, but in retrospect, were cruel to those were his devotees.
I learned that lesson on December 8, 1980.
I was about 1 ½ years into my first teaching job. In August I had moved into a house in Sapulpa with my asst. coach and friend, Bud Sexson. We shared a small rental house and spent most of our free time around sports. We both coached Junior High football and he coached wrestling in the winter. I was free until spring track.
On Monday nights, we settled in the living room, Monday Night Football on the television. I usually had on headphones, listening to music and grading as I watched the visual part of the game. I must admit I had never been a big fan of the broadcasters who narrated the games. Especially Howard Cosell. This was his era in Monday Night Football.
Sometime around 10:30 pm, Bud shook my arm… saying “hey.. you’ve got to hear this. “ I took off the head phones and listened to Cosell make the announcement that apparently John Lennon had been shot.. Bud knew that I was a huge Beatles fan, as evidenced by my Beatles collection, both as a group and solo artists. I was stunned. I left the headphones off waiting for more news about John and the attack.
IT was just a few moments later that Cosell came back on with the tragic news.
“This, we have to say it, remember this is just a football game, no matter who wins or loses. An unspeakable tragedy, confirmed to us by ABC News in New York City: John Lennon, outside of his apartment building on the West Side of New York City, the most famous, perhaps, of all The Beatles, shot twice in the back, rushed to the Roosevelt Hospital, dead on arrival.”
I was stunned. John, the leader and rebel of the Beatle years was gone. He had just recently released his first new LP in 5 years, “Double Fantasy.” The song, “Just Like Starting Over” was frequent on the airwaves. John, after an absence that he spent as a househusband, caring for his new son born in 1975 on John’s own birthday, was gone.
The television that night was filled with news of Lennon’s death, and very little information about the event. ABC broke into programming to make the announcement. Walter Cronkite relayed the news to a watching population. I sat, switching channels, trying to find out if somehow there had been a mistake in the reporting. Maybe, it was all a big mistake.
I received two calls that night. The first call came from the girl I dated, Cas, who was a student at Kansas University. Cas had seen the news and knowing my feeling about the Beatles, called me to see how I was doing. A then student of mine, Ashley Peck, also called me. She, too, knew of my connection to the Beatles and called to talk with me about the shooting, in case I ahd not heard. Interesting, that today, after nearly 30 years, cas and I are still good friends and Ash and I have been married for 22 years.
The next few days, grieving fans swallowed the area around the Dakota apartments, where Yoko and son, Sean, lived. Flowers and pictures decorated the entrance to the apartments where the fatal shooting had occurred. People sang John’s songs and stood, in mass shock at the loss of a cultural icon. Who, alive then, did not have some memory attached to a song by John or the Beatles?
There was no funeral for John. He was cremated two days later. Yoko had made this announcement to the world…
"There is no funeral for John. John loved and prayed for the human race. Please do the same for him. Love, Yoko and Sean.”
She also requested that the thousands who thronged the area around the Dakotas re-convene on Dec. 14th for a 10 minute, world wide silence for John. 30,000 gathered in London. 100,000 filled Central park. I, along with my cousin, Rob, his sisters and others joined scores of people in a silence sponsored by KMOD, the local FM rock station. Me met, somber and quite, as music played form loud speakers, and as the time grew near, the crowd bowed heads in silent remorse, shared by a chain of fans from around the globe.
More news came out about John’s assassin, Mark David Chapman. He had been a Lennon imitator, as far as dress, granny glasses and even marrying a Japanese wife. He sometimes signed his name as John Lennon. But, in Dec., of 1980, Chapman bought a plane ticket from Hawaii to NYC with the twisted plan of killing the man he felt had sold out to materialism.
Chapman waited outside the Dakota apartments the day of the 8th. Lennon was visited by Annie Leibowitz, Rolling Stone photographer who took candid shots of Lennon and Ono. Lennon also gave an interview in which he said that he liked being older and making music for everyone who survived the 60’s. He had just turned 40 on October the 8th of the same year.
At 5 pm, Lennon and Ono left the apartments for a studio session to remix tracks. On the way to his car, Lennon stopped to sign autographs from fans. One of those fans was Chapman, who had Lennon sign on his copy of “Double Fantasy.” Lennon left. Chapman drifted near the apartments, sitting and reading a book.
They were at the studio for several hours and returned to the Dakota at about 10:20 pm (EST). Later, the Dakota doorman said he saw Chapman standing in the shadows nearby. As Ono and Lennon passed by, Chapman stepped out and fired 5 shots, 4 of which struck Lennon in the back. He was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital, even though he was still alive when the rushed him into a car.
Chapman was arrested without a struggle. The doorman had taken his gun and he sat silently waiting for the police. Chapman had been reading the book “The Catcher in The Rye.” Chapman apparently saw himself as the Catcher in th Rye, protecting others from Lennon.
People all over the world mourned John. The remaining Beatles made public statements about John. Paul recorded “Here Today” about John. George recorded “All Those Years Ago” with the help of both Paul and Ringo. Elton John, good friend of John and Yoko, released “Empty Garden (Hey, Hey Johnny).” Even bands like Queen (“”Life is Real”-song for John”), Molly Hatchet (“Fall of the Peacemakers”) and close buddy Harry Nilsson’s “Lay Down Your Arms” either mourned the loss of artist, icon and friend or chided the public on the USA’s easy access gun laws.
Later, in 1984the award winning film, “The Killing Fields,” made the poignant use of the song “Imagine.” I can recall, sitting in the dark theater, tears streaming down my dace as the chords of the song echoed around the theater. The moment in the movie was both touching and memorable, but I think that, too, I shed those tears for the loss I still felt over John’s death.
As Christmas break arrived, Cas drove down to visit me in Sapulpa. I was still in school for a one last day, and occasionally I was called to run a substitute bus route before my classes. She rode with me, sitting in the front seat as I guided the large Orangish-Yellow behemoth (my own Yellow Submarine) along a country route. The young kids, jacketed against the cold Oklahoma December morning, anxious for winter break, jabbered and flirted. The radio, small, tinny speakers set in to the bus walls, strained to be heard above the raucous din.
It was then I heard the three bells that introduced “Just Like Starting Over.” I turned, looking over my shoulder at Cas. Bundled, warm inside the clattery bus, she smiled, acknowledging the song.
“It's time to spread our wings and fly
Don't let another day go by my love
It'll be just like starting over, starting over”
I nodded and smiled back. John is gone, but forever always around me.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
shoudl have been a rock star - top 5 rock wails
The greatest wails in pop music.
I know this is a tough category, but everyone has his or her favorites. I do too. I am a compulsive list maker…. either listing the top 10 LPs ever made to the best guitarists. My list of lists is awesome and of course, one sided. The top 5 actresses or top 10 songs I would perform if I had a band…. It goes on and on.
My list making went so far hat I finally decided to put my list in a physical form and make a CD collection of my favorite tunes, that I labeled “OM.” “Om” is the Hindu word for that musical note that permeates the universe tying all things together. Now, if that doesn’t explain music’s impact… what can? Even my IPOD is names “AUM” which the correct Sanskrit spelling of the westernized word “Om.” It ties the world together. Even Pete Townshend, a Hindu convert long, long ago, and dedicated follower to Baba tried to capture that moment in his song “Pure and Easy.”
“Pure and Easy” tells of the note that can create or destroy. It is everywhere.
“There once was a note, pure and easy
Playing so free, like a breath rippling by
The note is eternal, I hear it, it sees me
Forever we blend and forever we die”
And, in the song, as it winds into the final chorus, the music pauses and Pete plucks a single note…soft and resonant… the sound of “Om.” That is what these great wails are… they connect to that “Om” in each of us.
As far as wails, I am thinking about the moment in a song when the singer lets go of this wail from way down deep and it causes your whole body to shudder. And, yes, I know there are some amazing wails to choose from. Obviously there are a lot of great contenders, but these 5 are my personal favs.
5. Wilson Picket – Mustang Sally
Picket’s style shows up in a lot of Rand B music and even shows an influence in the music of others on this list like Joe Cocker. His frequent screams and wails throughout the song are at their best when at 2:35 into the song he sings…
“You been runnin all over town
Ooooowwwwww!
I got to put your flat feet on the ground”
A screech that can’t be written in English words that amply describe the sound. No way!
4. Al Green – So Tired of Being Alone
Al Green’s wail is like Mark Knoppler’s guitar (Dire Straits). Sometimes his great guitar playing was so smooth and understated, without a wasted note to take away from the perfection that his songs, like “Sultans of Swing” were based on, that they could easily be lost.
When Al, half way through the song, wails “Yaaaaaaaaa….Baaaabeeeee….” a person can’t help but feel the intense loneliness of the man in the lyrics. Smooth, subtle and chilling.
“Ya baby,
tired of being alone here by myself,
I tell ya, I'm tired baby,
I'm tired of being all wrapt up late at night,
in my dreams, nobody but you, baby”
3. Janis Joplin- Cry Baby
What can you say about this wail? The songs starts with the simple bomp bomp bomp of guitar and then ….
“Cryyyyy…eiiii…eiii… Baby!” the wail building higher and higher as she begins the blues tune with a fiery blast of Texas summer heat! You can feel sadness and desperation in that few moments of cry that speak of loneliness and long nights of whiskey and cigarettes. Janis sings in her rat-a-tat style of conversation, trying to convince her desired lover. No better blues wail than Janis. Gone far, far too soon.
2. Joe Cocker _ A Little Help From My Friends
The film of Cocker singing this song at Woodstock in 1969 is captivating. The happy-go-lucky Ringo tune from “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” becomes a bluesy and black gospel-sounding anthem.
Joe writhes and twist, contorted as he is completely absorbed by the song, much of the lyrics almost obscured by his growling delivery.
Many people, when they first heard the song by Cocker were surprised that it was a white English man singing instead of an American Black man.
At about 3:45 into the song, the guitar builds, and the back ground chorus sings “Do You Need Anybody?” In the Beatles version, the answer from Ringo is “I Ned somebody to love,” but ti is at that point that Cocker, leans back, and from the deep dark recesses of his souls simply answers with :Waaahhhhh-ahhhhh ahhhhh-ahhhhhhh… yeah! Yeah! yeah!” Beyond words, how much he needs someone to love.
I saw Cocker live a couple years ago, and even though his stage movements have seemed a bit more muted, man, can that guy still wail!
1. The Who- Won’t Get Fooled Again
Roger Daltrey hs always been a master of the rock scream. “My Generation,” “Pin Ball Wizard,” or “Baba O’Reilly,” Roger’s powerful voice defined the sound of the Who as an integral fourth. Twonshend’s windmill guitars, Enthwistle’s thundering bass, Moon’s energetic drums blended with Roger in a true “Om” experience.
In 1971, Townsehnd penned a rock opera called “Lifehouse.” It, as a total work, would not see the light of day until a solo Townshend rerecorded it in the 1990’s as a continuing work. It had the idea of “Om” as it’s basis, and many of the tunes he penned for it came out on his first solo LP (Who Came First) and on the Who’s great 1971 LP “Who’s Next.”
Perhaps the most seminal of those cuts is “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” The 8 ½ minute song on politics that announces, “Meet the new boss, Same as the old boss” begins with a crashing windmill guitar, and then followed by synthesized computer sounds. The bass and drums join in as Roger screams …
“I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again”
The song builds and builds, as Pete dances, bounces across the stage wind milling through chorus after chorus. Finally, a long musical interlude dies away to leave only the computer sounds playing. In the 2 times I have been lucky enough to see them play this song live, the band left the stage, and smoke rolled across the stage as light played across the darkened stage. It seems almost a good place form the song to wind down into fadeout, but it ignites back to life.
In Kansas City Arrowhead stadium, on their 25th anniversary tour, the drums broke the sound of the computer with a couple of disconnected rolls. Then as the drums rose to a pitch, Pete Townshend came flying through the air in a windmill power slide! The crunching guitar and Roger’s “:yyyoooooooowwwwwwwww!” split the air and the band finished the song in a pounding sledgehammer finish.
That song, every time it plays, still sends shivers up my spine. I still see Pete sliding across the stage in mid guitar riff and Roger stepping through the smoke, hand held high , blond fleece of hair as he roared across the late night Midwestern night.
Whew….
Following the events of 9/11, the Who played the Concert for New York (Oct. 2001). It was amazing. They played 4 songs, three of which were from “Who’s Next.” They followed several great performances, but it was that song, “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” that seemed to ignite the crowd in a sort of “We are of one accord” attitude.
The bass thundered. Roger screamed out his lyrics and Pete, like a kid without his Ritilin, bounced around the stage still powering the song with his signature windmill.
“We Won’t Be Fooled Again!”
I know this is a tough category, but everyone has his or her favorites. I do too. I am a compulsive list maker…. either listing the top 10 LPs ever made to the best guitarists. My list of lists is awesome and of course, one sided. The top 5 actresses or top 10 songs I would perform if I had a band…. It goes on and on.
My list making went so far hat I finally decided to put my list in a physical form and make a CD collection of my favorite tunes, that I labeled “OM.” “Om” is the Hindu word for that musical note that permeates the universe tying all things together. Now, if that doesn’t explain music’s impact… what can? Even my IPOD is names “AUM” which the correct Sanskrit spelling of the westernized word “Om.” It ties the world together. Even Pete Townshend, a Hindu convert long, long ago, and dedicated follower to Baba tried to capture that moment in his song “Pure and Easy.”
“Pure and Easy” tells of the note that can create or destroy. It is everywhere.
“There once was a note, pure and easy
Playing so free, like a breath rippling by
The note is eternal, I hear it, it sees me
Forever we blend and forever we die”
And, in the song, as it winds into the final chorus, the music pauses and Pete plucks a single note…soft and resonant… the sound of “Om.” That is what these great wails are… they connect to that “Om” in each of us.
As far as wails, I am thinking about the moment in a song when the singer lets go of this wail from way down deep and it causes your whole body to shudder. And, yes, I know there are some amazing wails to choose from. Obviously there are a lot of great contenders, but these 5 are my personal favs.
5. Wilson Picket – Mustang Sally
Picket’s style shows up in a lot of Rand B music and even shows an influence in the music of others on this list like Joe Cocker. His frequent screams and wails throughout the song are at their best when at 2:35 into the song he sings…
“You been runnin all over town
Ooooowwwwww!
I got to put your flat feet on the ground”
A screech that can’t be written in English words that amply describe the sound. No way!
4. Al Green – So Tired of Being Alone
Al Green’s wail is like Mark Knoppler’s guitar (Dire Straits). Sometimes his great guitar playing was so smooth and understated, without a wasted note to take away from the perfection that his songs, like “Sultans of Swing” were based on, that they could easily be lost.
When Al, half way through the song, wails “Yaaaaaaaaa….Baaaabeeeee….” a person can’t help but feel the intense loneliness of the man in the lyrics. Smooth, subtle and chilling.
“Ya baby,
tired of being alone here by myself,
I tell ya, I'm tired baby,
I'm tired of being all wrapt up late at night,
in my dreams, nobody but you, baby”
3. Janis Joplin- Cry Baby
What can you say about this wail? The songs starts with the simple bomp bomp bomp of guitar and then ….
“Cryyyyy…eiiii…eiii… Baby!” the wail building higher and higher as she begins the blues tune with a fiery blast of Texas summer heat! You can feel sadness and desperation in that few moments of cry that speak of loneliness and long nights of whiskey and cigarettes. Janis sings in her rat-a-tat style of conversation, trying to convince her desired lover. No better blues wail than Janis. Gone far, far too soon.
2. Joe Cocker _ A Little Help From My Friends
The film of Cocker singing this song at Woodstock in 1969 is captivating. The happy-go-lucky Ringo tune from “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” becomes a bluesy and black gospel-sounding anthem.
Joe writhes and twist, contorted as he is completely absorbed by the song, much of the lyrics almost obscured by his growling delivery.
Many people, when they first heard the song by Cocker were surprised that it was a white English man singing instead of an American Black man.
At about 3:45 into the song, the guitar builds, and the back ground chorus sings “Do You Need Anybody?” In the Beatles version, the answer from Ringo is “I Ned somebody to love,” but ti is at that point that Cocker, leans back, and from the deep dark recesses of his souls simply answers with :Waaahhhhh-ahhhhh ahhhhh-ahhhhhhh… yeah! Yeah! yeah!” Beyond words, how much he needs someone to love.
I saw Cocker live a couple years ago, and even though his stage movements have seemed a bit more muted, man, can that guy still wail!
1. The Who- Won’t Get Fooled Again
Roger Daltrey hs always been a master of the rock scream. “My Generation,” “Pin Ball Wizard,” or “Baba O’Reilly,” Roger’s powerful voice defined the sound of the Who as an integral fourth. Twonshend’s windmill guitars, Enthwistle’s thundering bass, Moon’s energetic drums blended with Roger in a true “Om” experience.
In 1971, Townsehnd penned a rock opera called “Lifehouse.” It, as a total work, would not see the light of day until a solo Townshend rerecorded it in the 1990’s as a continuing work. It had the idea of “Om” as it’s basis, and many of the tunes he penned for it came out on his first solo LP (Who Came First) and on the Who’s great 1971 LP “Who’s Next.”
Perhaps the most seminal of those cuts is “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” The 8 ½ minute song on politics that announces, “Meet the new boss, Same as the old boss” begins with a crashing windmill guitar, and then followed by synthesized computer sounds. The bass and drums join in as Roger screams …
“I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again”
The song builds and builds, as Pete dances, bounces across the stage wind milling through chorus after chorus. Finally, a long musical interlude dies away to leave only the computer sounds playing. In the 2 times I have been lucky enough to see them play this song live, the band left the stage, and smoke rolled across the stage as light played across the darkened stage. It seems almost a good place form the song to wind down into fadeout, but it ignites back to life.
In Kansas City Arrowhead stadium, on their 25th anniversary tour, the drums broke the sound of the computer with a couple of disconnected rolls. Then as the drums rose to a pitch, Pete Townshend came flying through the air in a windmill power slide! The crunching guitar and Roger’s “:yyyoooooooowwwwwwwww!” split the air and the band finished the song in a pounding sledgehammer finish.
That song, every time it plays, still sends shivers up my spine. I still see Pete sliding across the stage in mid guitar riff and Roger stepping through the smoke, hand held high , blond fleece of hair as he roared across the late night Midwestern night.
Whew….
Following the events of 9/11, the Who played the Concert for New York (Oct. 2001). It was amazing. They played 4 songs, three of which were from “Who’s Next.” They followed several great performances, but it was that song, “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” that seemed to ignite the crowd in a sort of “We are of one accord” attitude.
The bass thundered. Roger screamed out his lyrics and Pete, like a kid without his Ritilin, bounced around the stage still powering the song with his signature windmill.
“We Won’t Be Fooled Again!”
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Should have been a rock star---Beatles cartoons, Monkees TV and Chinchillas.
Beatles cartoons, Monkees TV and Chinchillas..
In the summer of 1968 I was caught in a conundrum. It was Saturday morning, and I was sitting, along with my younger brothers and sisters and buddy Larry, in my Grandma’s living room floor watching reruns of the Beatles Saturday morning cartoons.
I waited for that broadcast every week! The amount of rock music on television was abysmal, and about all anyone could count on weekly was American Bandstand. It was obviously for dancing and the bands lip-synced through their appearances.
The Beatles Cartoon, was of course, not really the Beatles, but it did fill a hole for the devoted fan. We would sit in front of the TV, watch the short silly clips and then sing along with the songs that each segment revolved around. Sometimes, we played guitar on brooms or sticks. We divided ourselves up as John, Paul, George and Ringo. We did the same with the Monkees TV show, which was simply a live action version of the Beatles cartoon. Sister Mary was Davey Jones; Tim was Mike Nesmith, etc.
We liked to watch at Granny’s because Grandpa had gotten them a color TV. We still had only black and white.
These shws gave us the music that we could only see form time to time on shows like “The Red Skeleton Show” ( I remember seeing Three Dog Night on that show… or is that a dream?), Carol Burnett, or Ed Sullivan. We missed most the Sullivan stuff since it fell during Sunday night church hours for us. Not even an appearance by Beatles or Stones could warrant missing church for rock and roll!
Anyway, back to Saturday morning….in the middle of the show, my older brother Keith came in to tell Mom, me and Grandma that he had a Saturday job for me , cleaning chinchilla cages for a friend of his. As much as I wanted to please my big brother, I also wanted to blurt out “NO!!” I didn’t want to miss those moments of Beatles music and happiness beamed straight from Liverpool into our TV set!
Reluctantly, I put on my shoes and followed Keith to his pickup and away to the chinchilla farm on the outskirts of Kiefer. There we met his buddy Bob and Bob’s uncle Dale, the two enterprising owners of the chinchilla farm. The farm to me was just a building that had stacks and stacks of cages filled with fluffy rat looking creatures. The building smelled of animal crap and Lysol.
I worked for them for several weeks, while Dale, a small chain-smoking figure of a man, guided me through the feeding, pumice baths and cleaning of the farm. After a few weeks, he let me in, then left me to clean and feed on my own. It was cool that he trusted me then, but at the same time, for this 12-year-old boy, the building full of chinchillas suddenly loomed quiet and ominous. I wanted to go home, kick off my shoes and watch Beatle cartoons with everyone else. I wanted to be a kid again, not an employee!
I could hardly wait for the 8 hoys to pass. The 12 dollar check Dale wrote me, at $1.50 an hour, was a pretty good amount for a kid then, but I just wanted to be at home.
The next week, when I went to work, I noticed Dale or Bob had left their radio in the building. I turned it on and immediately the building was less ominous. I played radio station KELI in the morning and KAKC in the afternoon. They were the two competing pop stations on AM radio of the late 60’s.
The workday flew by! I could work faster with the radio, and I was definitely no longer frightened by the loneliness of the day. I sang along with each of the songs. I wailed like a banshee to Steppenwolf! I crooned like McCartney of “Hey Jude.” I could even do, or so I imagined, the synchronized movements behind Diana Ross as the Supremes echoed around the small building. The tunes filled the ammonia tainted air and made my day slide by, even lessening the pain of no Beatles Cartoons with the variety of songs hat pop radio played in the late 60’s and early 70’s.
That was something I truly miss about radio today… it is so genre oriented that many people are never exposed to anything but their favorite flavor. The only place now that comes close to the variety of those 60’s AM stations is an IPOD on shuffle. The band, Ecerclear, captured that in their 2000 song “AM Radio”
“Yeah when things get stupid and I just dont know
Where to find my happy
I listen to my music on the am radio
You can hear the music on a am radio
You can hear the music on a am radio
I like pop, I like soul, I like rock, but I never liked disco
I like pop, I like soul, I like rock, but I never liked disco”
Variety…. Ahhhhh!
Maybe we appreciated that more because we were so desperate to hear and see any music on TV that it all was good to us? I was just as likely to watch the Carpenters when they appeared on a variety show, as I was to watch Three Dog Night. And, yes, I know the words to “Close to You” as well as I know the words to “Born to Be Wild.”
TV was a wasteland for rock music in the beginning. There were a few attempts to create something for this still fledgling genre that was beginning to be a marketing battleground. Dick Clark still reigned supreme for the dance oriented crowd. The change in 1967 became evident when “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane” were premiered on his show as promo clips. The former mop tops, secluded for a year from touring appeared in the clips with beards, longer hair and mustaches in psychedelic imagery. Just 4 ½ motnhs before the release of “Sgt. Pepper.”
The Bandstand crowd remarked “I don’t like their hair”, “It was finny” “They were ugly.” “ They went out with the twist” “It was weird” and for the 24 to 26 year old band members, “ they looked like somebody’s grandfather.”
The changes had been unleashed. Dick Clark’s other venture, “Where The Action Is,” 1965-1967, had been a fairly non-offensive early afternoon pop show, showcasing lip-synching bands on the beach. The 30 minute format was fats and interspersed with witty comments by the show’s rotation of performers on call, such as Paul revere and the Raiders. As the mood shifted from the cuddly pop to the more explorative and protest oriented music, “Where the Action Is” died, to be replaced by another Dick Clark show every Saturday afternoon, “Happening 68.” Paul Revere and Mark Lindsay of the Raiders also hosted it.
The show was short lived and by the end of 1969, it had expired and been replaced as the new rock show by a prime time rock, comedy and politics venue called “The Music Scene.” It was hosted by David Steinberg, and as I wrote before, was responsible for my departure from the Boy Scouts in order to see their premiere of the Beatles “Ballad of John and Yoko,’ much to my parent’s chagrin.
It seemed that Rock shows didn’t carry the monetary weight for ads that made prime time run, so after just over a year, even “The Music Scene” died a slow death.
That left us hungry for live music on TV. It seemed like nothing was sustainable and a variety fo late night shows drifted in and out of the doldrums until the two most successful made their appearance on the national TV scene.
In 1972, the late night variety show “The Midnight Special” followed “The Tonight Show” on Friday nights with a long list of rockers, pop stars and disco artists performing live on stage, a which was a big change from the prepackaged performances of bands on other shows. “Midnight Special” lasted till 1981 in it’s 1 ½ hr late night format. Its success at the late night slot prompted a little competition from another channel in the form of “IN Concert” and then “Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert..” Both shows eventually fell to the new king on the mountain in 1981.
Now, by the time I was in college in the late 70’s, there were several chances for televised live rock music. “Midnight Special,” “Rock Concert” and even the weekly live music guests on “Saturday Night Live.” Helped fill the void. I had still had the peculiar habit of turning on the stereo while the TV played in a muted mode. Sound and vision. It was as if there had to be more and more stimuli!
In my second year of teaching, 1980-81, my room mate convinced me to invest in cable TV based on the one innovation he was sure I would be drawn to… a 24 hour music television station. Music groups had always prepared promo music video to advertise on shows, such as the “Music Scene’s” airing of “the Ballad of John and Yoko.” I had also watched a Nickelodeon show called “Pop Clips.” It was the brainchild of former Monkee Mike Nesmith who sold the idea to the networks of collecting and airing the band promo clips. It featured the up and coming bands of the late 70’s such as the Police, and experimental and cutting edge music from bands like the Split Enz and “M’. (M’s infamous low tech video of “Pop Musik” which heralded the coming techno brand of New Wave.)
Video did indeed kill the radio Star in August of 1981. VJ’s (video Jocks) and a rotating catalog of edgy and familiar musicians crowded the airwaves and drew me closer and closer to the set. MTV even broadcast in FM stereo that you could also plug into you stereo speakers, freeing you from the tin box distortion of tiny TV sound.
Music had hit TV in a 24-hour format! The music was visualized before your eyes in performance clips, dramatization clips and finally, from Todd Rundgren ( A Wizard A True Star) even completely digitalized, c0mputerized video.
It was a long way from 30 minutes of Beatles cartoons on Saturday morning.
Of course, there were the drawbacks as well. It seemed in the early days that MTV had few black musicians on their shows. Artists complained about the fact that video took away the listeners own interpretations of the songs. Video drove out the unsightly, the fat and ugly musician in favor of the cute, fashionable and visual. Looks over content. Surprise! Surprise!
Now, today, in 2009, MTV has several incarnations and has drifted away from its music format with reality shows, fluff and commercial after commercial. Back where we started, wanting something that is real music.
And where is radio??? Each station crammed into some small marketing formula, owned and operated by sterilized format driven companies.
Ever see the movie “FM?” True today as it was in the 70’s.
Bring back that late night live performance. Bring back rock music uninhibited by the corporate bottom dollar.
I sure would like those Beatles Cartoons back.
In the summer of 1968 I was caught in a conundrum. It was Saturday morning, and I was sitting, along with my younger brothers and sisters and buddy Larry, in my Grandma’s living room floor watching reruns of the Beatles Saturday morning cartoons.
I waited for that broadcast every week! The amount of rock music on television was abysmal, and about all anyone could count on weekly was American Bandstand. It was obviously for dancing and the bands lip-synced through their appearances.
The Beatles Cartoon, was of course, not really the Beatles, but it did fill a hole for the devoted fan. We would sit in front of the TV, watch the short silly clips and then sing along with the songs that each segment revolved around. Sometimes, we played guitar on brooms or sticks. We divided ourselves up as John, Paul, George and Ringo. We did the same with the Monkees TV show, which was simply a live action version of the Beatles cartoon. Sister Mary was Davey Jones; Tim was Mike Nesmith, etc.
We liked to watch at Granny’s because Grandpa had gotten them a color TV. We still had only black and white.
These shws gave us the music that we could only see form time to time on shows like “The Red Skeleton Show” ( I remember seeing Three Dog Night on that show… or is that a dream?), Carol Burnett, or Ed Sullivan. We missed most the Sullivan stuff since it fell during Sunday night church hours for us. Not even an appearance by Beatles or Stones could warrant missing church for rock and roll!
Anyway, back to Saturday morning….in the middle of the show, my older brother Keith came in to tell Mom, me and Grandma that he had a Saturday job for me , cleaning chinchilla cages for a friend of his. As much as I wanted to please my big brother, I also wanted to blurt out “NO!!” I didn’t want to miss those moments of Beatles music and happiness beamed straight from Liverpool into our TV set!
Reluctantly, I put on my shoes and followed Keith to his pickup and away to the chinchilla farm on the outskirts of Kiefer. There we met his buddy Bob and Bob’s uncle Dale, the two enterprising owners of the chinchilla farm. The farm to me was just a building that had stacks and stacks of cages filled with fluffy rat looking creatures. The building smelled of animal crap and Lysol.
I worked for them for several weeks, while Dale, a small chain-smoking figure of a man, guided me through the feeding, pumice baths and cleaning of the farm. After a few weeks, he let me in, then left me to clean and feed on my own. It was cool that he trusted me then, but at the same time, for this 12-year-old boy, the building full of chinchillas suddenly loomed quiet and ominous. I wanted to go home, kick off my shoes and watch Beatle cartoons with everyone else. I wanted to be a kid again, not an employee!
I could hardly wait for the 8 hoys to pass. The 12 dollar check Dale wrote me, at $1.50 an hour, was a pretty good amount for a kid then, but I just wanted to be at home.
The next week, when I went to work, I noticed Dale or Bob had left their radio in the building. I turned it on and immediately the building was less ominous. I played radio station KELI in the morning and KAKC in the afternoon. They were the two competing pop stations on AM radio of the late 60’s.
The workday flew by! I could work faster with the radio, and I was definitely no longer frightened by the loneliness of the day. I sang along with each of the songs. I wailed like a banshee to Steppenwolf! I crooned like McCartney of “Hey Jude.” I could even do, or so I imagined, the synchronized movements behind Diana Ross as the Supremes echoed around the small building. The tunes filled the ammonia tainted air and made my day slide by, even lessening the pain of no Beatles Cartoons with the variety of songs hat pop radio played in the late 60’s and early 70’s.
That was something I truly miss about radio today… it is so genre oriented that many people are never exposed to anything but their favorite flavor. The only place now that comes close to the variety of those 60’s AM stations is an IPOD on shuffle. The band, Ecerclear, captured that in their 2000 song “AM Radio”
“Yeah when things get stupid and I just dont know
Where to find my happy
I listen to my music on the am radio
You can hear the music on a am radio
You can hear the music on a am radio
I like pop, I like soul, I like rock, but I never liked disco
I like pop, I like soul, I like rock, but I never liked disco”
Variety…. Ahhhhh!
Maybe we appreciated that more because we were so desperate to hear and see any music on TV that it all was good to us? I was just as likely to watch the Carpenters when they appeared on a variety show, as I was to watch Three Dog Night. And, yes, I know the words to “Close to You” as well as I know the words to “Born to Be Wild.”
TV was a wasteland for rock music in the beginning. There were a few attempts to create something for this still fledgling genre that was beginning to be a marketing battleground. Dick Clark still reigned supreme for the dance oriented crowd. The change in 1967 became evident when “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Penny Lane” were premiered on his show as promo clips. The former mop tops, secluded for a year from touring appeared in the clips with beards, longer hair and mustaches in psychedelic imagery. Just 4 ½ motnhs before the release of “Sgt. Pepper.”
The Bandstand crowd remarked “I don’t like their hair”, “It was finny” “They were ugly.” “ They went out with the twist” “It was weird” and for the 24 to 26 year old band members, “ they looked like somebody’s grandfather.”
The changes had been unleashed. Dick Clark’s other venture, “Where The Action Is,” 1965-1967, had been a fairly non-offensive early afternoon pop show, showcasing lip-synching bands on the beach. The 30 minute format was fats and interspersed with witty comments by the show’s rotation of performers on call, such as Paul revere and the Raiders. As the mood shifted from the cuddly pop to the more explorative and protest oriented music, “Where the Action Is” died, to be replaced by another Dick Clark show every Saturday afternoon, “Happening 68.” Paul Revere and Mark Lindsay of the Raiders also hosted it.
The show was short lived and by the end of 1969, it had expired and been replaced as the new rock show by a prime time rock, comedy and politics venue called “The Music Scene.” It was hosted by David Steinberg, and as I wrote before, was responsible for my departure from the Boy Scouts in order to see their premiere of the Beatles “Ballad of John and Yoko,’ much to my parent’s chagrin.
It seemed that Rock shows didn’t carry the monetary weight for ads that made prime time run, so after just over a year, even “The Music Scene” died a slow death.
That left us hungry for live music on TV. It seemed like nothing was sustainable and a variety fo late night shows drifted in and out of the doldrums until the two most successful made their appearance on the national TV scene.
In 1972, the late night variety show “The Midnight Special” followed “The Tonight Show” on Friday nights with a long list of rockers, pop stars and disco artists performing live on stage, a which was a big change from the prepackaged performances of bands on other shows. “Midnight Special” lasted till 1981 in it’s 1 ½ hr late night format. Its success at the late night slot prompted a little competition from another channel in the form of “IN Concert” and then “Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert..” Both shows eventually fell to the new king on the mountain in 1981.
Now, by the time I was in college in the late 70’s, there were several chances for televised live rock music. “Midnight Special,” “Rock Concert” and even the weekly live music guests on “Saturday Night Live.” Helped fill the void. I had still had the peculiar habit of turning on the stereo while the TV played in a muted mode. Sound and vision. It was as if there had to be more and more stimuli!
In my second year of teaching, 1980-81, my room mate convinced me to invest in cable TV based on the one innovation he was sure I would be drawn to… a 24 hour music television station. Music groups had always prepared promo music video to advertise on shows, such as the “Music Scene’s” airing of “the Ballad of John and Yoko.” I had also watched a Nickelodeon show called “Pop Clips.” It was the brainchild of former Monkee Mike Nesmith who sold the idea to the networks of collecting and airing the band promo clips. It featured the up and coming bands of the late 70’s such as the Police, and experimental and cutting edge music from bands like the Split Enz and “M’. (M’s infamous low tech video of “Pop Musik” which heralded the coming techno brand of New Wave.)
Video did indeed kill the radio Star in August of 1981. VJ’s (video Jocks) and a rotating catalog of edgy and familiar musicians crowded the airwaves and drew me closer and closer to the set. MTV even broadcast in FM stereo that you could also plug into you stereo speakers, freeing you from the tin box distortion of tiny TV sound.
Music had hit TV in a 24-hour format! The music was visualized before your eyes in performance clips, dramatization clips and finally, from Todd Rundgren ( A Wizard A True Star) even completely digitalized, c0mputerized video.
It was a long way from 30 minutes of Beatles cartoons on Saturday morning.
Of course, there were the drawbacks as well. It seemed in the early days that MTV had few black musicians on their shows. Artists complained about the fact that video took away the listeners own interpretations of the songs. Video drove out the unsightly, the fat and ugly musician in favor of the cute, fashionable and visual. Looks over content. Surprise! Surprise!
Now, today, in 2009, MTV has several incarnations and has drifted away from its music format with reality shows, fluff and commercial after commercial. Back where we started, wanting something that is real music.
And where is radio??? Each station crammed into some small marketing formula, owned and operated by sterilized format driven companies.
Ever see the movie “FM?” True today as it was in the 70’s.
Bring back that late night live performance. Bring back rock music uninhibited by the corporate bottom dollar.
I sure would like those Beatles Cartoons back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
