I don’t know that we’ve ever put a name to the “big-boned” offspring of classic boogie and arena rock until now: Burly Rock. Did any band display the strengths and weaknesses of this genre better than Bachman-Turner Overdrive?
Of course the genre dates back to an early band featuring Randy Bachman, The Guess Who. Continue reading »
In a recent thread, Townsman jungleland2 raised an interesting point that I’ve heard raised many times over the years:
Just got the 2-disc The Who Sell Out. I know this is their “great” record of the 60’s but I am not connecting to it so far
Have you had this feeling? Have you heard this feeling expressed by other rock-loving, Who-loving friends when they finally get around to checking out this critically acclaimed Who album?
I love the album, myself, and I’ve recommended it to aspiring rock nerds through the years. However, there must be a half dozen friends who love The Who, whom I thought would surely love Sell Out, but who felt the same way jungleland2 does. It’s made me wonder what we talk about when we talk about The Who.
We don’t ask this question about The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or Bob Dylan, do we? Factoring in all artistic progressions, we still seem to find a common thread through their music, despite the fact that some of us prefer early Beatles or pot-smoking Beatles or Exile-era Stones or feel comfortable writing off the last 30+ years of Dylan’s output.
With The Who, however, an acknowledged titan of rock and contender for the Mount Rushmore of Rock, fans of the band seem to have more wildly varying notions of the band’s essence. Some fans feel the band is best defined by the early singles. Some feel it’s the epic stuff from the early ’70s. Most seem to be uncomfortable with the legacy of one of the band’s best-known works, Tommy, and all seem split on Sell Out and Live at Leeds. The funny thing is, I don’t think their music changed that much over the years, just the parts they emphasized at any given era.
What do we talk about when we talk about The Who?
The ongoing Hear Factor series continues with Five Stars, a mix of rock ‘n roll that, in terms of hitting anyone’s discomfort zone, will likely challenge those of you who fear the relatively new and/or rock ‘n roll. I’m pretty sure you won’t fall in the latter camp, so get with it, stick in the muds: download the following file, unzip, and live with this mix for a few days. Then report back your experiences, making sure to mark your growth as a human being. Thanks.
All four Beatles had hit singles as solo artists, more than one, in fact. Even Ringo. I don’t know that any band, even a band as compact as a trio, has ever spawned four successful solo artists. But I could be wrong. Regardless, what band might rival The Beatles or at least claim second place for having spawned the greatest number of successful solo artists? And please, wiseguys, refrain from suggesting Traveling Wilburys!
If you could go back and perform artistic engineering on one latent trait, or characteristic, of a beloved musician—an initially benign or secondary trait in that musician’s work that would gain prominence and eventually detract from his or her work—what would it be?
My answer would be Joe Strummer‘s propensity for name-checking world musicians, political figures, and exotic locations. This trait was a useful, secondary device in his writing from the beginning. The practice peaked to useful effect on Sandinista, but by Combat Rock it was out of control. I love the guy and those last two solo albums he released before dying weren’t bad, but his music was bogged down by his impulse to play up his role as the savvy traveler of rock. Too bad he didn’t live long enough to work this out through his own satellite radio show.
Remember Colorforms? Following a comprehensive 5-minute search of the Internet I have determined that the Colorforms company, although producing sets specifically for iconic artists like The Beatles, KISS, and Elvis Presley, did not produce a comprehensive set of Colorforms that would have allowed us, as children, to create our own vision of the Ultimate Rock Star. Well, maybe they did, but if they did I’m sure it wasn’t as good as the Colorforms set we’re about to create.
As a service to help soothe yet one more dashed rock ‘n roll dream, Rock Town Hall will be partnering with Colorforms to create the Rock Town Hall Kit, a Colorforms toy. This set will include, from head to toe, the most iconic elements of rock wardrobe and accoutrements for future generations to mix and match onto blank figures in the effort of creating the Ultimate Rock Star.
Now the hard part… Read on!
Continue reading »
Although we’re familiar with claims to the effect that “There’s no crying in baseball!” we’ve seen evidence to the contrary. The same goes for all the other macho athletes out there. They’re way more sensitive than we’ve been led to believe.
I got to wondering about his this might apply to rock ‘n roll. In an artform the prides itself on free and deep expression, can you cite times in which rock ‘n rollers have cried in public, especially onstage, after a riveting performance? Non-rockers who can manufacture a solitary teardrop during the final arpeggio of a tender ballad don’t count. Sorry, Christina Aguilera fans. I’m talking real rock ‘n rollers, or even singer-songwriters who’ve long been established as residents of Rock bins across the world. For instance, has James Taylor ever cried at the conclusion of “Fire and Rain?”
If ever there was a time for rock ‘n roll tears I’d think it would be a landmark farewell show, like The Last Waltz. However, I’ve seen that film at least 100 times, and I don’t recall anyone shedding even a solitary tear. There were some puffy eyes, but wasn’t that the coke crying? Likewise, I don’t recall anyone crying in the otherwise super-sensitive Metallica group therapy movie—my own tears as a viewer excluded. Now that Metallica documentary allowed for some rock ‘n roll teardrops. (Mad props to Townsman shawnkilroy for reminding me of this touching scene.)
I don’t recall Freddie Mercury ever crying onstage. Are you telling me not even Freddie Mercury could muster an onstage tear?
Even off stage, in those VH1 Behind the Music episodes, do we ever see a member of Aerosmith crying over the wasted years before the band’s sobriety and return to the top of the charts?
Surely I’m forgetting an obvious instance of a rock ‘n roller crying on (or even off) stage.
