Dec 302009
 


Yesterday I spent a great night with a close friend and professional mentor, seeing Patti Smith at the Bowery Ballroom, in NYC. It was a kooky, unbalanced set, but the vibes, man, the vibes were just right! It was a night of rock ‘n roll communion, with occasional nods to The Power and Glory of Rock.

My appreciation of Smith’s music has been spotty since I bought Horses after seeing her perform on Saturday Night Live and hearing a live concert broadcast on a local FM station way back in my high school days. Her version of “Gloria” kicked my ass in that “future of rock ‘n roll” way we used to experience every few weeks in our teens. I’d buy a few other albums by her over the years, but I’d always end up cherrypicking the rockers that are based on “Gloria” and leave behind the American Prayer-inspired jazz poetry workouts. (The song “Southern Cross,” from a ’90s album, Gone Again, is one of the non-“Gloria”-based numbers by her that I love.)

I thought of Smith as one of those naturally powerful artists who get by on only two or three song templates yet lack a band skilled enough to add much variation to the narrow spectrum in which she works, similar to how I feel about The Ramones and U2. (For those of you possibly rushing to judgment, I’m not saying that her music “sounds like” those bands.) I always wished she’d made an album backed by Television, a band that could have better found the nooks and crannies in her songs. Instead, Patti’s band always sounded, to me, like second-hand scraps of guys who flunked the audition for Television or the E Street Band.

Over the years, however, I’d continued to marvel at brief live performances I’d catch on rock ‘n roll award shows. When my friend asked me if I wanted to drive up to New York with him to see this show, I didn’t hesitate to say Yes! I’m glad I didn’t. The show was not exactly what I expected or hoped for, but it hit on enough of my expectations and mixed in enough surprises to leave this rock ‘n roll “Mikey” devoid of a single beef for one night in my life.
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Dec 302009
 

OK, what’ve you got, jungleland2?

I’ll admit it. I read Rolling Stone…often. Kinda like how I watch Saturday Night Live – in hopes that it will once again be what it was back in the day (or how it was in my mind at least).

I took a look at their Top 100 records of the decade (January 1, 2000-December 15, 2009) and I have to say, I had a very diferent decade musically. I’m sure we all have.

Following is my Top 30 for this decade. No Best of records, no live records, no box sets, no lost albums, no reissues.
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Dec 292009
 

In discussing the legendary Beatles hanger-on and rock fraud Magic Alex last night, Townsman Oats wondered what other rock frauds must have weasled their way into the inner workings of successful rock bands and become part of the “creative process.” For purposes of this discussion, let’s leave out band managers and other “suits.” That lot tends to be, if at all competent, full of hot air. We’re looking for people who’ve worked their way into recording sessions, songwriting credits, and the like while displaying no actual talent. Also for purposes of this discussion, we will not allow the inclusion of spouses, like Yoko Ono and Linda McCartney.

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Dec 292009
 

I think I can, I think I can…

You may recall a recent comment by E. Pluribus Gergely regarding his belief that the music and packaging of Led Zeppelin promise way more than the band can deliver lyrically:

…regarding Plant’s ramblings, one can always count on a “you don’t need to be a Dylan to make it work” defense. True, but the music behind the rambling is presented in such a majestic fashion that the listener is expecting some sort of wisdom, or at the very least something that makes some sort of sense period. All one ever gets is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

And that’s my real beef with Zeppelin. No one expects any insights from on high when electric piano keys are pounded on the “Louie, Louie” intro because nothing overly complicated is going on in the first place.

This isn’t a bad or untrue point, but the question this raised for me is, Has any band made anywhere near as majestic, bombastic music AND been able to support it with lyrics that aren’t pretty stupid? I asked Plurbs to compare the lyrics of Led Zeppelin to those of Yes, Rush, Black Sabbath, and other bands working this territory. In comparison, Plant’s lyrics don’t sound half as bad, do they? But that’s not my question – what I really want to know is, what band making majestic, bombastic, mountain-scaling music delivers lyrics that come close to delivering on the promise of the music? Is Pink Floyd the best rock can offer?

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Dec 282009
 


You know you want to tell us about the musically relevant gifts you received over the holidays! Why wait for some thread to arise that allows you the opportunity to share and stay slightly on topic? So, whatcha get?

There was plenty of Beatles product to go around this holiday season, but I betcha didn’t get this. I did, however, get a McCartney biography and a Joey Ramone biography that my wife thought I would find amusing and enlightening for my Rock Town Hall activities. So far I Slept With Joey Ramone is meeting that goal. Haven’t cracked McCartney yet, but I’m hopeful that will tell me all the things Paul could have done before John.

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Dec 282009
 

Party on, rock nerds!

We hope those of you in the Philadelphia area can make it out. We’ve got the small room on the second floor to ourselves. There’s no admission. This should be a casual, if sometimes heated, event.

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Dec 282009
 

I’m reading The Nasty Bits, a collection of writings by chef and food essayist Anthony Bourdain. I’ve gotten into his local foods travel show No Reservations in a big way over the last month, and my insightful wife presented me with this book for Christmas. I knew nothing about this guy prior to getting into his show last month, and I’m enjoying the book, although it leans a bit more on his “Bad Boy” image than his tv show, which never fails to show the soft, sentimentalist behind the host’s attitude. The Bad Boy thing quickly runs out of gas with me, but he doesn’t push it in this book.

As part of expressing his Bad Boy side, he does make a lot of references to punk rock. I like when he drops a punk rock reference on his tv show. It’s good to know that “regular” people watching are forced to scratch their heads – or more likely that “we” are now among the regulars. In print, he drops even more punk references, and for some reason print references to music are more likely to bring out my highly judgmental side. Every reference to his love for The Ramones causes me to think, Yeah, of course. References to The Dead Boys help his credibility, but then I think, Man, those guys sucked! At one point he mentions playing Depeche Mode while setting up in the kitchen, and I begin to lose my appetite.
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