Posts Tagged ‘rock music’

By John Ruberry

A journey, indeed it is. The Kinks are celebrating their 60th anniversary. 

A big part of the revelry is the release, on BMG records of two double-CD or vinyl anthologies, the Journey Part 1, which was released in March, and the Journey Part 2, which was issued last Friday.

And in case you missed it, here is my rundown of my choices for the Kinks best 10 albums, which includes a look back at their momentous career. 

The Kinks emerged from North London and a year later they were at the forefront of the second pack of the British Invasion–or the beat groups, if you are reading this in the UK. Among those early hits were the power chord classics “You Really Got Me,” “All Day and All of the Night,” and “Till the End of the Day.” The Journey Part 1 kicks off with first two, The Journey Part 2 starts with the third one.

Looking at the compilations from the vinyl version, each side is represented by a theme, which I just couldn’t make sense of, so let’s just move on. 

Each cut was selected by the Kinks–the surviving members are Ray Davies, rhythm guitarist and principal songwriter, his younger brother Dave, the band’s lead guitarist and occasional songwriter, and drummer Mick Avory. Among the many hits on the Journey, you’ll also encounter some rare tracks and alternative recordings.

Both are collections are essential collections for rock listeners with eclectic taste, and more importantly, a those with a strong sense of intelligence. 

If you only have a bit of time and you want to know which compilation is best, then go with Part 1. A crucial reason is that amazingly, there are no songs from my choice as the Kinks’ second-best album, Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire)on it. You’ll find “Australia” and “Shangri- La” on Part 1. Of the Kinks often maligned 1970s”theatrical” period, the best of that bunch is Schoolboys in Disgrace. Part 1 has songs from it, Part 2 does not.

The second collection delves surprisingly heavy into the Preservation Part 2 album, which even many Kinks fans dislike. Preservation Part 1 contributes a song to the Journey Part 1. Although through the flaws, I am a fan of both. Critics hated them, although the stage presentation of Preservation was better received by them. Preservation tells a civil war between a womanizing real estate developer-turned politician Mr. Flash (liberals will see him as Donald Trump, conservatives as Bill Clinton), who is challenged by the seemingly morally righteous Commander Black, a Jerry Falwell Senior-type character. 

If you are British, you can think of Preservation as a 20th-century replay of the English Civil War, when King Charles I and his cavaliers battled Oliver Cromwell and his Puritans.  

The Journey Part 2, includes some of the best tracks from Preservation Part 2 including a previously unreleased version of “Money Talks,” along with “He’s Evil,” and “Artificial Man.” Sadly, one of the worst songs from the second Preservation, “Scrapheap City,” which is flatly sung, literally, by Maryanne Price, is also on the Journey Part 2.

What were the Kinks thinking on that one?

While the Journey Part 1 has no live tracks, Part 2 does, three live cuts recorded in 1975 at the New Victoria Theatre in London, “Everybody’s a Star (Starmaker) one of only two good songs from the loathsome Soap Opera album, “Slum Kids,” a solid Preservation outtake, and another song–not one of the goods ones–from Soap Opera, “(A) Face in the Crowd.”

On the flipside, the other good song from Soap Opera, the 1930s-style “Holiday Romance,” follows the live tracks. You can think of “Holiday Romance” as the Kinks’ answer to the Beatles’ “Honey Pie.”

If you’re a Kinks fan–or of you think you might become one–then here’s a song for you, “I’m Not Like Everybody Else,” the B-Side of their hit “Sunny Afternoon.” The first track is on the Journey Part 1. The A-Side is on Part 2

Is “Lola,” perhaps the best-known Kinks song besides their power chord nuggets, included on the Journey? Yes, it’s on Part 2.

One more bit of bad news–the Journey ends abruptly. There is no talk of a Part 3, and there are no songs from the Kinks post-theatrical era on Part 1 and 2. Some of those stellar albums omitted in these collections include Sleepwalker, Low Budget, Misfits, and Give the People What They Want. What’s the heck is with that? Contractual disputes with record labels?

Back to the Journey: Even with one collection being a bit better than the other, both compilations contain plenty of pleasing gems. Back-to-back, they are ideal road trip albums, a great complement to any journey, either cross town, cross country, or as a companion to your life’s journey.

God Save the Kinks!

John Ruberry, who saw the Kinks live twice in Champaign, Illinois in the 1980s, regularly blogs at Marathon Pundit.

By John Ruberry

Last week one of music’s giants, Robbie Robertson, the lead guitarist and the principle songwriter for The Band, died at the age of 80.

In this post I’ll rank their studio albums.

Much like Fleetwood Mac, The Band, when you reach back to their beginnings in Toronto, is one of the few musical acts that, like a nation, have a historical narrative.

Arkansas rockabilly singer Ronnie Hawkins found success with his backup band, the Hawks, in Canada in the lat 1950s. But one by one, each Hawk, except for drummer Levon Helm, got homesick and returned to America. The first Canadian to join the Hawks was Robertson, who was quickly supplemented by bassist Rick Danko, pianist Richard Manuel, and organist Garth Hudson, but all of the members of the band were multi-instrumentalists, particularly Hudson. The Band had three vocalists, Helm, Danko, and Manuel. Often, particularly on their first two albums, they would interchange leads—and beautifully harmonize.

The Hawks split from Hawkins in 1963, and under different names, performed as a first-rate bar band until becoming Bob Dylan’s concert backing band. Helm left during that tour. 

After Dylan was injured in a motorcycle accident in 1966, with the Hawks, he recorded new material that was released in 1975 as The Basement Tapes. Helm rejoined in 1967, after the newly-dubbed The Band was signed Capitol Records. 

After many ups and a few downs, The Band split after their final concert–with many guest performers–which was lovingly documented in the Martin Scorsese-directed movie, The Last Waltz. The soundtrack album is also an essential work of art.

In the 1980s, without Robertson, The Band reformed, went on tour, with the intention of returning to the recording studio. But Manuel committed suicide in 1986. The remaining Band members eventually recorded three albums in the 1990s, consisting mostly of covers, but the rump Band broke up for good after Danko’s death in 1999. Helm, who had been feuding with Robertson for years over songwriting credits and money in general, died in 2012. Hawkins passed away last year.

Hudson is the only surviving member of The Band.

And now let’s start the rundown of The Band’s albums. Yes, the ones with the original lineup.

Islands (1977): There are some great outtakes albums, The Who’s Odds and Sods and Elvis Costello’s Taking Liberties come to mind. Islands is like most of the others, where listeners can say to themselves, “I can see why these songs were left off of previous albums.” Because The Last Waltz soundtrack was promised to another label, Islands was compiled to satisfy The Band’s contractual obligation to Capitol Records.  It contains a curiosity, “Knockin’ Lost John,” the only Band song where Roberston sings lead. Next…

Cahoots (1971): Drugs had taken their toll on The Band by this time, and Robertson’s songs weren’t very good here. Cahoots starts off well enough, with “Life Is a Carnival,” but immediately sinks into them mud. Not even one of my favorites, Van Morrison, who co-wrote with Robertson “4% Pantomime,” which is about two drunk musicians in a bar complaining about life on the road, could save Cahoots. Listening to this album is about as enjoyable as sitting next to two drunk musicians in a bar as they…well, you get it. On the upside, the album artwork is gorgeous, and one of Morrison’s nicknames, the Belfast Cowboy, comes from “4% Pantomime.”

Moondog Matinee (1973): Two paragraphs ago Costello, who counts The Band as one of his major influences, received a compliment, now I’m evening the score. In 1995, Costello recorded an album of mostly obscure R&B covers, Kojak Variety. It’s a terrible record. Moondog Matinee, which also contains many lesser-known R&B tunes, is better than that. Predictably, it’s the better-known songs that The Band chose, including “I’m Ready,” “Mystery Train,” and “Promised Land,” which click. 

Yes, I do love The Band. Really, I do.

Now comes the good stuff.

Stage Fright (1970): While Cahoots understandably opens with its best song, on Stage Fright, the collection’s worst two songs, “Strawberry Wine” and “Sleeping” are the opening tracks. The first song was co-written by Helm with Robertson, and Manuel co-wrote the second one with Robbie. With the exception of one other tune, all of the rest of the songs were written solely by Robertson, including these Band standards, the title track, as well as “The Shape I’m In,” and “The W.S. Walcott Medicine Show.” More rock and R&B oriented than The Band’s first two albums, Stage Fright is also remembered for Todd Rundgren’s role as engineer.

Northern Lights-Southern Cross (1975): The Band, with their first studio album in four years, came back in a big way here. “Acadian Driftwood,” a musical cousin of sorts of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” recounts the ethnic cleansing of French speakers in the 1750s from Nova Scotia by the British. At the time, Robertson was married to a French-Canadian, tensions between Anglophone and Francophone Canada were at a peak then. Like the early days of The Band, Helm, Manuel, and Danko harmonize and swap lead verses. “Ophelia,” “Jupiter Hollow,” and “It Makes No Difference” are the other great tracks on this collection. Every song on Northern Lights-Southern Cross is a Robertson composition.

Music from Big Pink (1968): One of the best debut albums ever, and not just because of the great songs, such as “Chest Fever,” “The Weight,” and the Dylan-penned “I Shall Be Released.” No one knew it at the time, but Music from Big Pink was the first album of the Americana genre, or if you prefer, roots music. The album artwork featured a Dylan painting. “The Weight” is the ultimate Band song, Helm and Danko share lead vocals and Manuel adds perfect harmonies. Dylan cowrote, with Manuel and Danko respectively, “Tears of Rage” and “This Wheel’s on Fire.”

The Band (1969): Most bands with a great debut album effort suffer from a sophomore jinx. Not The Band, with their self-titled follow-up, also known as the Brown Album. There are no Dylan songs this time, but Robertson filled that vacuum with works that are now Americana classics, such as aforementioned “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” as well as “Rag Mama Rag,” and “Up on Cripple Creek.” Sometimes it’s hard to ascertain why The Band was so great and so unique. “Jawbone,” a Robertson and Manuel collaboration, offers a clue. It was written in a 6/4 time signature, a rarity in popular music.

And so was Robbie Robertson, a rarity. Rest in peace.

John Ruberry regularly blogs at Marathon Pundit.

By John Ruberry

Three days ago, the Marathon Pundit family saw the revival of The Who’s Tommy at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre. 

The original The Who’s Tommy was directed by Des McAnuff, who collaborated with Pete Townshend for the musical. Townshend, the Who’s lead guitarist wrote most of the songs for the Tommy rock opera. The original theatrical production was first performed in 1993, and that was directed, as is the Goodman Theatre production, by McAnuff. 

While not the first rock opera, most rock scholars give that honor to Pretty Things’ S.F. Sorrow, Tommy was a commercial and critical success for the Who; they had struggled to gain attention in America, as did some of the other bands who emerged at the tail end of the British Invasion, such as Small Faces and the Move. 

The plot of Tommy, the rock opera, is quite clunky. The atmosphere of Tommy is of the late 1960s, and it is a reaction to the guru culture of that strange time, which was filled with charlatans such as Timothy Leary, the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, and much more darkly, Charles Manson. A better guru was Meher Baba–Pete Townshend remains a follower of his teachings. 

However, inexplicably, Townshend set the story of Tommy to begin shortly after the end of World War I. 

Tommy Walker becomes deaf and blind at around age four after he witnesses his father, who his mother believed was killed in the Great War, shooting her lover to death. Tommy’s parents look for a cure for their son, those attempts include bringing him to a “gypsy,” the Acid Queen, who fails to cure Tommy with LSD. Two relatives abuse him, Uncle Ernie, sexually, and Cousin Kevin, who tortures him. Tommy, despite his deafness and blindness, becomes a pinball champion and a celebrity. Tommy’s mother notices that her son often stares intently at mirrors. She smashes a mirror during one such gaze, which cures Tommy. He then becomes a cult leader, but eventually his followers reject him. Finally, Tommy realizes that he isn’t special, but everyone else is, as he sings in “We’re Not Gonna Take It.”

Listening to you I get the music
Gazing at you, I get the heat
Following you I climb the mountains
I get excitement at your feet.

But it was the songs, despite some dull filler such as “Underature,” that made the Tommy rock opera a smash. And the Goodman Theatre makes the most of the best-known numbers–along with some stupendous dancing–including “I’m Free” and of course “Pinball Wizard,” but also lesser-known tunes, such as “Amazing Journey” and “Sensation.” With a church backdrop, “Christmas” shines.

For those Who purists out there, beware, some of the lyrics of the songs have been altered to fit the adapted narrative of the musical.

There are many stand-out performances, foremost by Ali Louis Bourzgui as an adult Tommy, Alison Luff as Mrs. Walker, and Adam Jacobs as Captain Walker. The supporting cast is also superb, particularly Christina Sajous as the Acid Queen and Bobby Conte as Cousin Kevin. There are no casting mistakes here, unlike Ken Russell’s over-the-top Tommy film from 1975, which, like The Who’s Tommy, begins the story right after World War II. While Russell got it right with Who lead singer Roger Daltrey as Tommy, Tina Turner as the Acid Queen, Elton John as the Pinball Wizard, and Ann-Margaret as Mrs. Walker, there were some serious casting disasters in that move, including Eric Clapton (not an actor), Jack Nicholson (not a singer), and Oliver Reed, a drunk who played a drunk, but on the flipside, Reed couldn’t sing either.

Back to The Who’s Tommy at the Goodman: Not to be overlooked, the lighting, the costumes, the sparse but effective scenery, and the computer graphics are dazzling.

The play ends in an undefined, presumably fascist, future, with Cousin Kevin looking a bit like Joseph Goebbels. And with an attack, somewhat understated, on today’s celebrity and social media influencer culture. 

Last week, Bourzgui explained to the New York Times his interpretation of his Tommy portrayal, “He gets filled up by his followers,” adding “He keeps feeding off that, getting more gluttonous with power, until he realizes they’re following him because they want to feed off his trauma.”

The key word, in the 21st century context, is “followers.”

On the downside, a couple of songs, both penned by Who bassist John Entwistle and performed in succession, fall flat, “Cousin Kevin” and “Fiddle About.” In the latter, Uncle Ernie [John Ambrosino], sings about, well, I said what it is earlier. Both tunes are perfect times for a bathroom break, assuming you will be let back in before the end of first act. Mrs. Marathon Pundit dozed off during these tunes.

Townshend, since the release of the Tommy LP, said he was molested as a child. He was not charged after logging in a few times to a for-pay website that was advertising child pornography, stating at the time his motive to visit the site was “purely to see what was there” and that he was researching sexual abuse. In 2003, Townshend was placed on a sexual offenders registry for five years and he received a caution from the London Police. Townshend strongly denies every possessing child pornography. Citing those two sadistic Entwistle songs, Townshend said that he is too traumatized to ever perform Tommy again.

None of the other reviews of The Who’s Tommy I’ve read mentioned Townshend’s legal issues, but on the other hand, I paid for our tickets to this show.

Although not seen, the nine-piece band, led by Rick Fox, has some big shoes to fill by performing these songs–particularly those of Who drummer Keith Moon–is spectacular. I saw The Who in concert twice, in 1979 and 1980, with Kenney Jones on drums, Moon passed away in 1978. Entwistle died in 2002. Both of concerts were fantastic–and loud. My ears were ringing for days afterwards both times. 

Yes, it was a Sunday matinee performance, but it was a geriatric audience, reminiscent of the crowd on the Lawrence Welk Show, in attendance for the Goodman of The Who’s Tommy that day. Earplugs were available for the “loud” music at the Goodman–which wasn’t that loud. Oh, have times ever changed. 

The Who’s Tommy has been extended twice at the Goodman, some upcoming shows are sold out, the final Chicago performance is scheduled to be on August 6. The production is believed to be a dry-run for a return to Broadway, and presumably, a whole bunch of well-deserved Tony Award nominations.

John Ruberry regularly blogs at Marathon Pundit.

Is rock ‘n’ roll here to stay?

Posted: May 9, 2023 by chrisharper in Uncategorized
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By Christopher Harper

The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame has lost its way!

I love the music of Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson, but they’re country artists, not rockers.

Is Kool Herc an important representative of rap because he scratched turntables?

Like many teenagers, I played in a rock ‘n’ roll band. Unlike most, we had some success, recording several songs, including one that made it to the Billboard 100. We’ve also been inducted into two rock halls of fame in South Dakota and Iowa!

That’s why rock and its cathedral in Cleveland are vital to me!

Let me name just a few of the noteworthy musicians who haven’t been honored and probably never will.

Joe Cocker has many proponents for the hall. For example,  Billy Joel voiced his support back in 2014, the same year Cocker died: “I’m amazed that he’s not in yet, but I’m throwing in my vote for Joe Cocker,” Joel told fans at Madison Square Garden while covering “With a Little Help From My Friends” as Cocker once did. He’s been eligible since 1995 but never nominated.

The Spencer Davis Group has never been nominated, despite being eligible since 1991. “[Spencer Davis] was a man with a vision and one of the pioneers of the British invasion of America in the ’60s,” former band member Steve Winwood said to Rolling Stone in 2020. “I feel that he was influential in setting me on the road to becoming a professional musician, and I thank him for that.”

Emerson, Lake & Palmer’s bid for respect for progressive rock has long been an uphill battle. That was Greg Lake’s view when considering why the band hadn’t been inducted into the rock hall, despite being eligible since 1996. Years have passed, and they still haven’t been nominated, which the late ELP vocalist took as a big slight. “Groups like ELP were playing stadiums. Not clubs, stadiums,” Lake said a decade ago. “It’s not something you can overlook: ‘Oh, I didn’t notice that.'”

Grand Funk Railroad has never received a nomination, despite five platinum albums and hugely popular hits like “Walk Like a Man” and “We’re an American Band.” The omission doesn’t sit well with Grand Funk co-founder Mark Farner. “It just shows the illegitimacy of that rock hall,” he said, “and the [fans] are definitely smart enough to know this. They need to be reminded, though, that the rock hall is not a representation of the will of the people; it is a representation of the will of the owners of the rock hall.”

Procol Harum has been eligible since 1993 but has been nominated just once for the class of 2013. Five years later, their classic song “A Whiter Shade of Pale” was inducted into the rock hall’s singles category. “We all know the history of music can be changed with just one song, one record,” E Street guitarist Steven Van Zandt said when introducing the category. “In three minutes, we suddenly enter a new direction, a movement, a style, an experience. That three-minute song can result in a personal revelation, an epiphany that changes our lives.”

Many others deserve consideration: Meat Loaf, Harry Nilsson, Steppenwolf, Three Dog Night, Toto, Edgar and Johnny Winter, and maybe even the Monkees.

Sadly, many influential artists haven’t been considered for the hall, which means something is wrong.