Please explain Weezer‘s Pinkerton album, which seemed, magically, to have been released with misunderstood, unappreciated masterpiece status on arrival. Continue reading »
Dec 092010
Dec 082010
A few questions on this December 8, 2010…
What’s the most Lennonesque song by another artist since John Lennon‘s death, 30 years ago today?
Which artist, if any, since that time, has best embodied the Lennon spirit of lifetime achievement?
Did Paul McCartney‘s unfortunate reaction to John’s death solidify the lifetime of backlash Paul has since suffered?
Was “Watching the Wheels” John’s effort at initiating Kokomotion?
Had John not died, which newer generation artist would have collaborated with him first in the 1980s? Which newer generation artist would have most regrettably collaborated with him in the last 10 years?
Dec 082010
Dec 082010
Townspeople,
This is your Rock Town Hall!
If you’ve already got Back Office privileges and can initiate threads, by all means use your privileges! If you’d like to acquire such privileges, let us know. If you’ve got a comment that needs to be made, what are you waiting for? If you’re just dropping in and find yourself feeling the need to scat, don’t hesitate to register and post your thoughts. The world of intelligent rock discussion benefits from your participation. If nothing else, your own Mr. Moderator gets a day off from himself. It’s a good thing for you as well as me! Continue reading »
Dec 072010
A couple of recent threads (here and here) brought to mind the phenomenon of bands with at least two band members sharing a surname but no lineage (ie, “no relation,” as it always says after the band members’ names are listed). Because I’m sure there are so few of these instances, I won’t use up one of the options by kicking off this Last Man Standing with an initial entry, but I will say that the members of The Ramones do not count. Also, because I’ve felt so often, in the past, that a Last Man Standing will result in no more than three or four possible answers, I will refuse to believe I’m about to “stump” anyone this time. Go!
Dec 072010
As you may know, there’s no period of The Rolling Stones that I like better than what I call the “Brian Jones era.” I refer to it as such with full knowledge that Jones may not have contributed much, after helping Mick Jagger and Keith Richards to come together and study Da Blooz, beyond his ability to drive the band with his awesome Rhythm Look and an aptitude for coloring songs with his vast collection of “exotic” instruments. What’s never been clear to me, though, is whether Jones actually contributed anything special on the guitar. I, as much as Richard Lloyd, Martin Belmont, and anyone else who’s passed through these hallowed halls, frequently refer to the band’s legendary twin-guitar attack, but can we actually pinpoint what Jones did other than stay out of the way of Richards’ riffs?
A couple of weeks ago E. Pluribus Gergely called me with the following discovery, which he said was the first example he’s seen of Jones playing an audible, prominent rhythm guitar part. It’s the band playing “Oh Carol” on the Mike Douglas Show in 1964. I’ve watched this clip a few times and, although Jones’ part is easily discernable, I think my friend gave Jones a little too much credit. The execution is nothing special, is it?
I’d love to hold onto the belief that Richards-Jones set the template for all that I love about twin-guitar attacks in rock ‘n roll, but please help me find live video evidence of Jones doing anything worthwhile on guitar. Thanks.
By the way, Douglas and his old fart guests’ dismissive intro of the band and the segment at the end of the lip-synched performance of “Tell Me,” when a couple of giddy teenagers come up to meet the band, are priceless.
Finally, it goes without saying that I’m not allowing the following lip-synched performance as evidence, as much as I’d love to:
Dec 062010
Do the Kokomotion!
This RTH Glossary entry was developed by Townsman alexmagic, who did the heavy lifting, as he often does, in a comment on an earlier thread. As a side benefit of this entry, the term may satisfy the rock world’s need to claim its own version “jump the shark.”
Kokomotion: The inevitable late phase of an artist’s career trajectory, in which they nakedly attempt to recapture the sound that made them initially famous.
The “Magic Man” illustrated this phase by comparing Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Songs” with The Beach Boys’ “Kokomo”:
Taste and quality issues aside, I think there is a key difference between “Silly Love Songs” and “Kokomo.”
“Silly Love Songs” was written by a guy who was still in the middle of being an active, successful artist. It’s positioned as a statement of “you can bag on my songs all you want, but look at how rich they keep making me!” Some hubris, there.
“Kokomo” was written by a band long past its prime making a last-ditch effort to get any kind of traction. That it somehow worked is a testament to the commanding presence imparted by the authority of a captain’s hat.
McCartney’s Kokomotive moment, then probably would have been the Give My Regards to Broad Street album, where he was redoing actual Beatles songs. I guess a case could be made for the “Tripping The Live Fantastic” tour, where he started to re-embrace his arena rock status, only with his Beatles’ numbers more heavily in play.
I prefer to think of Broad Street being his “Kokomo,” though, because that would mean that Bryan “FX” Brown would have the distinction of being in both Broad Street and Cocktail, where “Kokomo” itself found its place.
Bryan Brown: Rock’s True Zelig?
For the record, can you identify the Kokomotive moments in other artists’ careers?
