Sunday, June 16, 2024

MAGIC MAN HEART 2024

 

HE’S A MAGIC MAN, MOMMA!

 In the summer of 76’, my brother Tim brought home an album called “Dreamboat Annie.” I had heard the first song of that LP getting some air play on our local FM station. “Magic Man” had some great guitar and lyrics that appealed to the nerdy sowed and sorcery guy inside of me.

 A lot of the progressive rock of the 70’s had themes of the Medieval, magic and wizards. But Magic man had something different. It was recorded by Heart which was fronted by two sisters, Ann and Nancy Wilson. Their two faces were emblazoned on the cover of the LP. While so much of 70’s rock was dominated by male singers, Ann Wilson could wail with the best of them.

  The album was diverse and captivating. It rocked and then drifted into dreamy poetic cuts like “Dreamboat Annie.”  I was hooked and became a Heart fan.

  It took 48 years, but this year I finally got to see Heart in concert. Concerts have gotten so expensive that a person must be pretty selective.  As a young man, I went to lots of concerts. But time, expense and other responsibilities limited that later.

 This show did not disappoint. Cheap Trick blew the roof off as an opening act, and Heart followed with a great show. The switched back and forth between rocking and soft ballads. Ann’s voice, even at the age of 73, rocked the arena.  Nancy’s guitar was furious and dynamic.

 We left the show satisfied and happy. There’s nothing like a great live music show.

NIGHT MOVES NOSTALGIA

 

Night Moves

 

   Music has a way of waking memories.

   A familiar tune plays on the radio or pops up next on a playlist and suddenly, you are transported…. to a place, to a feeling…to a memory.

 

   This week, I was driving home from Tulsa. It was a cloudy day that appeared to be pregnant with rain.

   Gray clouds, cooler breezes and the hum of tires on the road had my mind drifting when “Night Moves” by Bob Seger crept from the speakers. Its first guitar chords transported me back to 1976.

     I was a junior at Sterling College in Kansas. The college occupies the small farming town of sterling, situated in the geographic center of Kansas. It surrounded by miles of flat land and field after field of farmer’s crops.

 The song was released in November. We had hung up our pads and cleats for another completed football season. Fall was in the air and cool breezes now replaced the hot Kansas winds that brought the smell of wheat fields and harvest wafting across the campus.

  AT night, we sat behind the dorm, listening to music and talking. The edge of campus and our dorm lay next to a large field often covered in wheat. We could see taillights of cars driving off for long moments across the country roads that stretched out from the college.

 It was then, that song came on the radio.  We fell silent. The song seemed to strike a chord within us. We were young. Summer was ending, and Autumn closing in.

“I woke last night to the sound of thunder
how far off i sat and wondered
started humming a song from nineteen sixty two
isn’t it funny how the night moves
when just don’t seem to have as much to lose
strange how the night moves
with autumn closing in”

 

Music transports us. It reminds us.

TODD IS GODD 024

 

Todd is still Godd.

  Friday, June 14, Todd Rundgren returned to Tulsa with a live show at the Had Rock. He and his band sizzled through a 2-hour set of tunes mostly pulled from the later half of his catalog.

   I’m sure there were people in the crowd that came for “hello It’s Me” or “can we still be friends,” and that haven’t kept track of his career since their teen years. He did give them a carrot in his encore with a medley of a couple oldies. There were also a couple of cuts from his Utopia years, but the bulk of the show seemed to come from “Liars”, “No World Order,” and “The individualist.”

  I’ve been to a lot of Rundgren’s shows. I’ve never been disappointed.  I’ve seen Utopia at an outdoor show at the Oklahoma City Zoo Amphitheater, at Cain’s Ballroom, at the brady Theater, and the “RA” show with the 20 ft. pyramid and sphinx in Lawrence, Kansas. That was a mind-blowing show highlighted by the 18-minute electrified fairy tale” Singring and the Glass Guitar.”

  His solo shows have always been unpredictable and surprising. I’ve been to several, either with a band or a solo show at Cain’s Ballroom. He once brought his “Individualist” tour to Tulsa, playing from under the overpass that ran north of the Cain’s.

   Friday was no different. He arrived on stage to the sound of “How About A Little Fanfare” before launching into “I Think You Know.”

  We had great seats, thanks to my wife, Ashley. Fourth row, center stage. A great view. I was kind of excited that the 2 seats in front of us were empty as the time for the show arrived.

  But, as the lights went down and Todd began to enter the stage, three people sidled into the gap, blocking our view and trying to argue with the couple to their left that they had their seats.  The guy, already seated, told them to check the seat number, but they continued to argue. It was getting frustrating, and FINALLY, they looked at the seat numbers and found they were wrong and sat down.

  There was little conversation from Todd as they slipped from song to song. Todd showed some gunslinger moves on guitar, sizzling through some hot solos. Despite his recent forays into more electronic music, he can still make the guitar scream.

  I knew two songs were coming up at the end of the show that might challenge some listeners in the Oklahoma crowd.  “God Said” from the “Liars” album and “fascist Christ” from “No World Order” might have been a little hard for a religious person to swallow. AT the end of “Fascist Christ” Todd led the crowd in an ironic singalong chorus of ‘Gimme That Old Time Religion.”

  IT reminds me of a review I read on Amazon of the Neil Young album “Living With War>’ The reviewer was upset because Neil had gotten all political and obviously not to the reviewer’s side. I thought “Where have you been? Did you never listen to his lyrics?” This was the guy who wrote “Ohio” years agio.

  Same with Todd. His earlier works were filled with these questions. In “Eastern Intrigue” his lyrics asked the question “Will the Real God Please Stand Up?”

 The regular part of the show wrapped up with a powerful version of “World Weide Epiphany.”  The older crowd was on their feet begging for more as the band left the stage. We didn’t wait long. Todd returned to a medley of “I Saw The Light, Can We Still Be Friends, and Hello It’s Me.”  He wrapped up the night with “Fade Away.” A great song to end the show.

  Todd’s band was hot. He recently lost a guitarist, Jesse Grass. He passed away this past year. Two of his band are constants by his side, drummer Prairie Prince and Bassist and fellow Utopia member Kasim Sulton.

  Todd didn’t seem like a man about to turn 76 years old. He moved constantly onstage.

 I always dread the idea that my favorites ae all getting older and someday will decide to retire. Tom Scholtz of Boston, about the same age as Todd, has been silent for years. Paul McCartney, Ringo Starr and the Rolling Stones, in their 80’s but still touring.    SO, who knows? I did read in a recent interview that Todd is already planning his new album.

 All in all, I’d still say this musical chameleon is still Godd.

 

Thursday, December 17, 2020

the Time Machie

THE TIME MACHINE I’ve read a lot of science fiction and there is a frequent theme of time travel in the books and movies. There is always the question of whether or not traveling to the past would cause problems or a paradox. I say that time travel has been available for years. It has taken the shape of many things over the years depending on the technology. So far, it has not disturbed the3 past, nor caused ripples of change into the present, I consider myself to be a Chrononaut, since I travel through time each day on this vehicle. In my early years, the time machine took the shape of a transistor radio or small record player. Years later, it was a stereo system with huge speakers spinning vinyl records. Soon, it was replaced by tapes, 8 track and cassette. Digital discs came next, compacting the time machine and making it easy to carry with me. Recently, the time travel engineers have made it possible to pump it into my car, my cell phone, or home stereo through the airwaves. I hear the song “Wild Thing” by the Troggs and I am transported back to 1967. There I am, an 11 year old boy who convinced his mom and dad to join the RCA record club so we could get the introductory offer of a small record player and 20 45 rpm records. The record player is rarely silent when I am around. I play “Wild Thing” often, along with “Ring of Fire “ and “The End of the World.” Another trip may find me listening to “Back in the USSR” by the Beatles in 1968. Having just peeled the clean white double album free of its plastic covering to open the foldout LP and find the folded poster and lyrics inside. I reverently put record one, side one on th turn table and lowered to needle to intently scrutinize each new offering from the Beatles. I made notes about each song by the lyrics. My favorite Beatles tune of all time, “Hey Jude” transports me to a warm fall day at Kiefer High School. It is homecoming and my senior class is in the parking lot lazily working on a float for the parade. I am wearing a letter jacket, and laying on a hay bale when the radio plays “Hey Jude.” I lay in the warm sun, feeling like all is well with the world while the Beatles serenade me. My time machine, on shuffle, sends me “I Know I’m Losing You” by Rod Stewart. It carries me to 1976, soon after a surprise break up call from the girlfriend back home. My college buddies and I are in the car when the song comes on the radio. Mack reaches into the front seat and grabs my shoulder. “Hey, Charlie. This is de3dicated to you!” “You asshole!” I reply, but it is only the hell I get from these close friends that helps to soften the broken heart. Later, we will go to the dorm to play Ted Nugent’s “Free For All” at top volume while jumping around the room playing air guitar. This month is the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. His songs and stories played on TV and radio. When “Just Like Starting Over” comes on the air, I am carried to December, 1980. Lennon’s death was announced on Monday Night Football where Bud Sexson and I sat watching the game. I got two calls from people who knew I would be upset by this. Cas called from Kansas U and the girl that would be my future wife, Ashley Peck, called to tell me too. Cas came to visit me the week before school let out for the Xmas break. I had to drive a substitute bus route that morning before school. It was cold and icy as I wheeled the bus through the rural route. Cas rode along, sitting in the front seat. It was then, “Just like Starting Over” crackled over the bus speakers. I looked over my shoulder at cas and we smiled. It warmed the bus to hear the song. Ashley plays her 80’s playlist and The Buggles “Video Killed the Radio Star” plants me in 1981. Bud has convinced me to get cable TV by telling me there is a new music television called MTV. Music 24 hours a day. I am sold. I spend hours watching the new music and music videos. MTV changed the face of music and for a time, was the best way to see new music. Electric Light Orchestra’s “Telephone Line” pulls me back to the fall of 1986. I sat patiently in front of the cassette recorder creating the perfect playlists which I would mail to Ashley Peck at Oklahoma University. I labelled them “Stuff Tapes.” I made a series of them with the intent of wooing her from a distance. I could catch her by long distance calls at the right time, but the playlist was always there with her. “Telephone Line” was the perfect explanation of how I felt if I couldn’t reach her. It I 1987, and Leon Russell has called me with “Roll Away the Stone.” The summer sun beats down on Ashley and I. We were married in January and now expecting our fist child. We crowded into the river Amphitheater in Tulsa to get close to the stage to see Leon and Edgar Winter together. Leon is rocking the stage that night, but the bass vibrations from the band are making the unborn Fletcher do somersaults in the womb. We get up and move the very back of the venue so we can still hear, but Baby One is now settled down. I am still convinced that those vibrations made Fletch love music. My Grunge playlist sends Evanescence to “bring Me back to Life.” It places me with Corwin at an outdoor concert in 2003. We see Evanescence and 12 Stone. It is Cor’s firt concert and he is pumped. The darkness falls and I let the music wash over me. I am happy just to be sharing this moment with him. “Layla” carries me to Dallas in summer of 2004. Fletch and I have tickets to the Eric Clapton Crossroads Guitar fest. Fletch will be a senior in the fall. He shared a love of classic rock with me and the festival is chock full of great players. Wen roast in the hot Dallas summer sun as act after act fills the stage. The amazing musicians that come and go keep us transfixed. Neil Shon, James Taylor, Jimmy Vaughn, BB King, John Mayer, Buddy Guy, Bo Oddly, Joe Walsh, Vince Gill, Booker T, Santana and finishing with home town favs, ZZ Top. Clapton played with everyone. It was an astounding display of musicianship. A time well worth traveling to. And the time travel continues. Even as I type this, Ta Todd Rundgren playlist echoes in my empty classroom. His songs carry me to so many places, from “Just One Victory” while getting ready to play a college football game or “One World” as I stood in a crowd at Cain’s Ballroom watching him perform with Utopia. The same with the Beatles, with Neil Young, with McCartney, Boston, on and on. I know there are many Chrononauts out there, tiptoeing through the years but leaving undisturbed the things that could alter the future. Safety first in time travel.

Friday, January 25, 2019

Growing up with singers


Growing up with singers

When I was a kid, music was always around me. But, not where you’d think. We never had a record player till I begged for one from the RCA record club at the age of 10. There was very little music available on the 3 channels we got on TV. Dick Clark’s BandStand on Saturdays and an occasional lip sync on variety shows. I had a variety of transistor radios over the years. But, the majority of music I grew up with was the acapella voices of my mom and dad.
Mom and dad sang all the time. Mom was the song leader at the Baptist Church. Dad was the deacon. When we were in the car, or at home, mom and dad would often sing hymnal songs together.
Mom would sometimes sing non religious songs to us… such as “Mary Ann, down by the seashore sifting sand…” and dad had a collection of old 78 RPM records including “Wabash Cannonball” that I never saw him play, but did sing out loud occasionally.
It was not unusual to find dad sitting alone on the porch, singing a gospel song out loud to no one.
Mom and dad would sing special music at church occasionally. Sometimes as a solo, often as a duet and one song I remember in particular with my Aunt Bonnie. “Surely, Goodness and Mercy.” So, we decided that they were the title. My mom is named SHirley (Surely), and dad was goodness and Bonnie was mercy.
There is one song that still sends chills up my spine. MY dad, did not read music, but loved to sing. He would often sing a solo of “How Great Thou Art.” He would stand at the front of the church, beside the podium, his glasses held in one hand, while his gurff, deep voice sang out the words that were the basis of his faith. Dad and mom sang the songs because they believed the songs.
My family wasn't a family that played musical instruments, even though my little sister Jo, finally became the first real musician in the family. My family’s instrument was their voice. A good voice is not something I share with them.
ALthough, in my lifelong love of music, to this day, when I am outside, looking at the night time sky, I still hear my dad’s voice singing out “I see the stars. I hear the rolling thunder. Thy power throughout, the universe proclaim.”
That is the music present in every night of stars or in every storm.

Becoming a Guitar God

Becoming a Guitar God


I had always wanted to play guitar.
From a very early age, I idolized the rock bands I loved so much. I wanted to be that lead guitarist out front, Leaning back, hair flying out , sweat drenched, making that instrument wail!
Music lessons really weren't a priority with so much going on in our family anyway. After my 2 older brothers and sister were out of the house, there was still the 5 of us from the second batch of kids. Between the sports we all played, being in church every time the door cracked open and just life, there was never really the time, or the money to do that.
At one point, I managed to get an old guitar that had only 4 strings. I used to twang about on it, most likely tuned to some imaginary tone and pretend I was making music. I’m sure it sounded pitiful and made my mother cringe.
I was jealous when my best friend, Larry, began to take guitar. Larry was an only child who lived with his mother, and grandmother. LArry and I would sit around listening to Beatles albums and he would strum the guitar and talk about what he learned in lessons. Larry and I played baseball and basketball together… and eventually football, but as an only child, he had a lot more free time than I. I spent a lot of time with my brothers and sisters out on our hilltop home in the countryside. A lot of my free time was spent in the pasture… or listening to my albums on a tiny, tinny record player.
Larry got to playing pretty good. By the time we were in high school, he and a couple guys formed a band. They played at some school dances. I would sit at Larry’s house while he played riffs from “Spirit in the Sky” and “Long Cool Woman.” All the time, I wanted to play too.
Finally, after graduation I went to college on an academic and football scholarship. It took me two years, but I soon realized that I could take guitar lessons as a class for a humanities grade. I found what I thought was decent guitar at a pawn shop, with all 6 strings, and prepared for rock stardom.
I signed up. The first day, I met my instructor…. A small lady who also taught violin. Mrs. Powers. She was the wife of my chem professor. She was more interested in classical style music and was a bit perplexed by my desire to learn rock and blues.
The first year of lessons started off well, but then I broke a couple fingers on my left hand in a football game. A fracture. It was never casted, but wrapped for the games. It was painful to use on the frets. I could hardly depress the strings and and Mrs. Powers, who was not a football fan, was miffed that it affected the lessons. In fact, she gave me a “C” for the semester.
My guitar plating improved and I spent time doing scales and runs she had shown me. My roommate, Scott, one day said”when are you going to actually play a song?” I could strum some elementary songs.
I wanted to be a guitar hero, but life kept getting in the way. MY senior year, I reinjured that hand and played games and practice with it basically wrapped like a club. Once again, my lessons suffered.
Finally, spring semester rolled around. MY hand was better. I was working on the guitar. Mrs Powers and I selected a song that I would pick out at the spring recital. It was “Michelle” by the Beatles. With her help, I was working hard to master the tune.
Two weeks before the recital, I was walking back to my 2nd floor dorm room, guitar strapped across my back as the traveling guitar troubadour I imagined myself becoming. As I walked up the stairs, the strap at the top attached to the neck of the guitar broke, and the guitar crashed down on the stairs, neck first, cracking the neck.
I grabbed the guitar, inspected the damage and let out a wail of anguish in the stairwell. I didn't have the kind of money to go out and get another guitar.
I tried gluing the neck together while I had the guitar bound to the bedposts with belts to hold it in place over the weekend and hopefully, hold together. When the weekend passed, I unstrapped the guitar, and the tension of the strings immediately pulled the neck into a crooked position. Distraught
I went to see Mrs Powers. We decided that at this close date to the recital, I would play her guitar. The trouble was, my guitar was a full size instrument with steel strings. That's what I had been playing. Mrs Powers was a diminutive woman with a smaller size guitar and nylon strings. It was like trying to adjust to a completely different instrument. Her hands were small… mine large. The practice time I got was frustrating.
When he day arrived, I sat on the front row of the auditorium with the other performers. I sat there, sweating, compulsively fingering the fretboard over and over to make my hands more familiar with the smaller guitar. Nervous nervous
Beside me sat this guy, also ready to perform with a much nicer guitar than my pawn shop special. He was the kind of guy you always pictured as the “I’m better than you” smartass. He just had that look, and that bothered me even more.
Finally, my turn arrived. I grudgingly climbed the stage steps and took a seat mid stage. I placed the guitar on my lap, placed my hands on the strings and frets and scanned the crowd. I have never hated a Beatles song, but at that moment I dreaded that song more than anything in the universe.
What my rendition sounded like to the audience...I don’t know. But to me, I heard every muffled note, every missed string, every over lapped fret on the neck as I plodded through history's worst version ever of “Michelle.”
Drenched in sweat, mercifully, I finally reached the last note. I gathered Mrs Powers guitar under my arm and descended the stairs to my seat. There, the smartass guy sat with a smirk on his face, obviously enjoying my ineptness. I was both embarrassed and angry as I plopped into my chair.
The only redeeming feature of the recital was that smartass guy was up next. He and his expensive guitar proceeded to produce the worst version of “Classical Gas” that I had ever heard. I smiled. It was much easier to share failure and I was glad to see his smirk disappear.

I did get another guitar. I played with Larry that summer. We even played , at my mom’s request, a few tunes at her church…..including Clapton’s reggae version of “swing Low” and “we’ve Been Told.”
A couple years later, I bought Larry’s electric guitar, that I would pound around on less and less as my coaching career took more and more time. Larry struggled a lot, and was down on his luck. I gave him back his guitar because I knew playing was one of his real joys.
I never became a guitar hero. But, I am still a fan of that wailing, blues lick. In my vivid imagination, I still stand at the front of the stage, wild hair blowing as I make my guitar scream! I’m sure it entertains the other drivers at stop lights while I play air guitar in my car.

Friday, August 25, 2017

Yes or no? Mother nature says no.

I was really excited when I heard the news.
Yes was scheduled to appear in Oklahoma City at the Zoo Amphitheater! Recently (and about time) inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, they finally were coming back to town.
I had been to their concert once before... several years ago. It was at the Brady Theater in Tulsa. But, Ashley suffered an asthma attack midway through the show and we had to leave. Ash was so apologetic, but it was unavoidable.
The band had gone through a few changes. Chris Squire had passed away. he was the only member of the ever fluctuate
ting membership of the band that had been a constant. Jon Anderson sang on most Yes Lps, but had recently left again. Rick Wakeman had gone for a long time and the band's keyboard are now in the hands on the previous member of the Buggles (Video Killed the Radio Star) geoffrey Downes. Downes had been a member of Yes once before when both hwe and fellow Buggle Trevor Horn were Yes for one LP.
Steve Howe had been on most Yes LP's. When gone, he was replaced by Trevor Rabin. Howe had played with GTR and Downes also played with Asia.
The extra bonus of this show was Todd Rundgren. Todd has been touring like mad the past couple years and released several LPs. I saw him with Ringo a couple years ago, but it was not a Todd show. All of these tours missed Oklahoma. One person told me ir was because there were too many Trump voters here.
But, Todd is my fav, right behind the Beatles. He's the chameleon, changing with every album.
The show was rounded out by the Emerson Lake and Palmer Legacy show. Palmer is the only surviving member with he recent death of Lake and suicide of Emerson.
Jackie Caseboldt and I drove to OKC. The weather was great... in fact, I was whining because I had forgotten my sun glasses. We got there early.. got a parking place cheap across the street from the Amphitheater. We were there at least an hour before showtime, so we went in, sat and ordered a beer. I brought a blanket for our tickets on the lawn, but turned out the blanket stunk! Probably from the last flood that hit our house! So, we sat on a ledge.
The crowd trickled in slowly. The shade grew and I began to sweat less. Finally, Carl palmer came on stage with a couple guitarists. No keyboard. I had read it was in honor of Emerson...,. and they did have some recorded keyboard.. which I assume was Emerson's from the lps
During the set, the clouds began to roll in, followed by a cool breeze. First a few drops during "Knife's Edge" and by the next song, rain started to fall. Palmer's set was completely instrumental. It was pretty good, but unusual to hear ELP dongs with no vocals. They had started their set with one of my favs, "Karn Evil Number 9."
The rain fell in sheets. Jackie said he was heading for the shelter of the trees. I was optimistic. I took the stinky blanket and covered my head to wait for the end of the cloud burst. After all, the weather said it was only a 20% chance.


It didn't stop. It got worse. The thunder literally shook the ground like Palmer's bass player. The lightning put on a better light show.. intense and scary as the rain soaked my stinking blanket and everything under neath. Finally I retreated to the cover of trees as even the people in the front reserved seats fled the rain. While there, a flash of lightning crackled light all around us, and the accompanying thunder shook the trees. "How close was that?" One lady screamed@ I left the copse of trees to take shelter near a bathroom, already packed with smarter people. After a few moments of rolling thunder and sheets of rain, an official looking man raced by screaming that the show had been cancelled!
I was ready to wait out the storm. I came to see Todd and he was supposed to be up next, by god!
cancelled??
I tried to text Jackie to find him. It was complete chaos with most people not really sure what was going on. I made my way to the front hoping Jackie was near there. By then, blanket or nor, there was nothing dry on me. I called him, but the pounding rain was so loud I couldn't hear his reply. I decided to gather myself and my now 20 ton wet blanket (but no longer stinking) blanket and head back to the pickup and hope Jackie was there .
Dragging my self in small crowds of nearly drowned people, amidst the fivers of rain water up to my ankles, and the repeated rash of thunder and flashes of lightning... no end in sight...I trudged to the parking lot. No Jackie.. so, finally able to find shelter under a nearby church porch, I called and got him. He made his way to the pickup and we two drowned rats trode wet and cold the hour plus back home with only a large order of McDonald fries to warm us.
I am disappointed to miss Yes since they just got in the Hall of Fame. I am also sad to miss a chance to see Todd. I never know if he will come to our red state on his own.
So, the next day ar school... Todd playlist on the IPOD all day

sigh