For those of you who have been away in the remotes of Argentina the past week, the landmark Georgia Theatre burned down last Friday. The cause of the fire is still unknown, and the place was consumed quickly. As I read on a message board, if you take a wooden building that old with no sprinklers, soak it in alcohol for thirty years and light a flame, the results are inevitable.
Even though the Theatre with its frequent jam and cover bands didn't always cater to my tastes, I still mourn its passing. In tribute, I'd like to list a few of my favorite memories about my experiences there:
-The first show I ever legally saw in Athens was Dreams So Real at there, about a week after I turned 18 in 1990. This was when they had that bar smack in the middle of the place when you walked in. It was one of those moments that actually felt as important at the time as it really was.
- Seeing Social Distortion there around 1992 with all the scary skinheads and inadvertently getting my buddy Trey clocked by one (read the gory details here)
- The infamous GWAR show that was shut down for obscenity by the ACC police which ended up with the city defending itself in a (losing) lawsuit
- Dancing onstage with NYC ska band The Toasters and running into my future wife onstage while skanking.
Those are off the top of my head, and I'm sure many more will arise the more I reflect upon it. The last show I saw there was in 2008 when I saw The New Pornographers and got to see and hear Neko Case live, so that's a fine way to bow out. I also had tickets to see Jenny Lewis there July 1st, but that has since been rescheduled for the 40 Watt.
I'm also thankful my son got to experincve the Theatre a mere week before it burned when he saw a Beatles cover band play a special all-ages show (and, no, he didn't have a 32 oz beer). It's great that Quinn has now been to both the 40Watt (seeing Uncle Monsterface last summer) and was at the Theatre. He's an Athenian through-and-through.
So, in the comments, share with us some of your memorable shows and experiences with the Theatre. Hopefully, the preliminary talk of rebuilding will be seen through and we will have more great shows to remember in the future.
Bowie is another one of those artists I enjoy because he keeps things fresh. He may be second only to Madonna (or third to Neil Young) in the many iterations of his musical and performing personality over the years.
My first experiences with Bowie remind me of how I also encountered Bruce Springsteen, through 80’s pop radio. Like many Xer’s, I initially heard of him through the singles “Let’s Dance” and “China Girl” (which, if you remember, got lots of press for being scandalous) I recall the media making a big deal about David Bowie suddenly becoming an MTV star, but couldn’t figure out what the big deal was supposed to be about him.
On a totally unrelated note – I distinctly remember being at a neighbor’s house watching the “Let’s Dance” video, and having one of the kids say, “You know he gives blow jobs on stage”. I had NO idea what blow job was, but not wanting to appear lame in front of a cool older kid, said, “Yeah, I know”. Then, of course, he says, “Do you even know what a blow job is?” “Sure”, I say, seeing the hole I am digging for myself yet not avoiding it. “Well, what is it?” And I think that’s the point at which I excused myself and ran home.
Later, I would get the gist of it after Bowies released possibly the most homoerotic video in history, a cover of “Dancing in the Streets” with Mick Jagger. Ummmmm....yeah
As I grew up and started delving into classic rock via 96 Rock, I started seeing what more there was out there. I heard “Suffragette City” once and remember thinking, “Oh, that’s David Bowie too?” Then all the 70’s hits seemed to start pouring in and giving me a more complete picture – “Fame”, “Golden Years”, “Heroes”, “Space Oddity”, etc. You know all the ones.
This particular song I got off a two-CD compilation “The Best of Bowie”, which I bought because it had some deep cuts there which I found to be just as great as the radio hits (“TVC 15”, “DJ”, “Boys Keep Swinging”). I’ll admit that my Bowie knowledge is not where it should be, and I need to buy some albums to remedy that. I borrowed “Aladdin Sane” from a co-worker once based on liking “Panic in Detroit” which, for some odd reason, a local radio station decided to put in heavy rotation.
Today, much like I mentioned with Cash in the last post, you can hardly find an artist or big-time music fan that doesn’t claim an appreciation for David Bowie. He even got down with the kids in the 90’s with a Trent Reznor collaboration (and the less said about Tin Machine, the better).
In “Young Americans”, Bowie goes Soul. With the opening drumbeats, piano flourish, and especially the saxophone styling (a key element of this song), you can immediately tell you’re a ways away from the glam of “Ziggy Stardust”. The soul touches continue throughout the song with Bowie’s phrasing and delivery, the syncopated beat, and most of all the background singers, who, along with the sax, hit the song’s hook with their “All night / all right” refrain (and check their quick shoutout to the Beatles’ “A Day in the Life” at 2:14 – “I heard the news today, oh boy”)
I had to take a look at the lyrics for this song. It’s one of those you’ve heard over and over, but don’t have a clue what the words are or what it’s about (at least for me). For instance, I thought he was always singing “She was a young American”, but it’s actually “She wants a young American”. The “she” of the song is a character he follows though the duration of the song, starting with the first verse:
They pulled in just behind the bridge He lays her down, he frowns "Gee my life's a funny thing Am I still too young?" He kissed her then and there She took his ring, took his babies It took him minutes, took her nowhere Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything
That’s much more serious subject matter than I suspected this to be about. In fact, this seems as if it’s a song that’s commonly misunderstood as a celebration of American youth culture, where actually it’s an exploration of the loss of the American dream (see “Born in the USA” for another famous example). Check out the middle verse:
Have you have been an un-American? Just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout Leather, leather everywhere, and Not a myth left from the ghetto Well, well, well, would you carry a razor In case, just in case of depression? Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors Blushing at all the afro-Sheeners Ain't that close to love? Well, ain't that poster love? Well, it ain't that Barbie doll Her heart's been broken just like you have
That’s pretty bleak isn’t it? Let’s keep in mind too, that this was written in 1974, right after Watergate (“Do you remember your President Nixon?”) when America was thought to be shooting straight down the tubes. Taking the song from that “loss of innocence” theme, the repetition of “She wants a young American” looks to be a yearning for a more untainted, optimistic outlook for her, and by extension, her generation and entire country. The upbeat nature of the music only serves to make it palatable to the listener and subversively slip that idea within it as you’re grooving along.
As I'm sure anyone who reads this blog is aware, the Rick Rubin produced American series completely revived Johnny Cash's career and changed him from a marginal (but influential) washed-up country artist into a full-fledged American icon. It's hard to recall now, but the prevailing thought at the time when news was coming about about this collaboration was, bluntly, "What the fuck?" That first American album, though, traced a direct line to the biopic "Walk the Line", if you think about it. (And here, I must implore you, if you haven't seen the movie "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story" and it's Cash / Carter parody scene, please do so posthaste).
But now, do you know anyone that doesn't like Johnny Cash? I think any musician from any genre of music will tell you that, at the very least, they appreciate the guy's mettle, individualism and spirit. That's right, Mofos...
Rubin's formula for Cash was to basically strip his sound down completely. Most songs in the American series are only Cash's voice, sounding haunted and carrying the weight of years of hard living, accompanied by an acoustic guitar and perhaps a piano or other instrument for shades of color. He also had Cash primarily cover songs by other artists with the exception of maybe one original or re-recording each album. The most memorable of these, of course, is his take on Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt", which, with the incredible accompanying video, Cash made his own forever.
"On The Evening Train" is a cover of a Hank Williams song, but it's impossible not to read Cash's life into it. Many of the songs on American V deal, literally or symbolically, with death - Springsteen's "Further Up the Road", "God's Gonna Cut You Down", "A Legend in My Time" by Don Gibson, "I'm Free From the Chain Gang Now"(a re-recoding of his own song). Of course, with Cash nearing the end of his life during his American recordings, it was only natural for him to explore that theme (though it could be argued that was always one of his major subjects).
"On The Evening Train" has a narrator who is simply watching the casket of his wife being loaded onto a train with his infant son. Even though the song tells us in the first verse "...they're taking Mama on the evening train", it's not until halfway through the song in the second verse that he mentions the "Long white casket in the baggage coach" (harsh!), which is jarring if you don't know it's coming (I didn't).
The lines where you can read again into Cash's life occur in the final verse -
I pray that God will give me courage To carry on til we meet again It's hard to know she's gone forever
It' hard not to believe he's singing about June Carter Cash, his longtime wife and love, who passed away before he did. It makes an already sad song even more poignant.
Interestingly, out of the four verses, the first is from a third person point-of-view, while the other three are first person, from the man whose wife has died. Intentional or not? What's the narrative purpose there? Another question - why is the dead wife's casket being loaded on a train? Where is she being buried? Why isn't there a funeral at the place where the family lives?
Anyway, here's the song (nothing happens in this homemade video. It's a train and....a train. But at least you get to hear it.)
It's hard to believe this song is almost ten years old, isn't it? I'm not a huge Hova (that's what the kids call him...or used to call him; I can't keep up any more) fan, but I do have a couple of CDs, and that's not including the "Grey Album", the (unauthorized) project by Athens' own Danger Mouse mixing his "Black Album" with the Beatles' "White Album" , which I am probably obligated to own as a music blogger.
Two great tastes that taste great together If you remember anything about rap back in the late 90's, it was all about gloss, bling, and ridiculous excess. It was the heyday of Puff Daddy and he churned out hit after hit based on old 80's pop tunes. The record industry was as strong as it has ever been (and will ever be, in my opinion), there was lots of money to be made, and by God, the hip hop artists of the era were celebrating it.
"I Just Want to Love You" is a pretty good example of the type of music and lyrics we were getting at the time. The Neptunes were the hot producers at the moment (and they were pretty good back then), and Pharrel Williams has the best part of the song - the falsetto chorus that calls back old-school funk songs and is also a lyrical shoutout to someone who hadn't been heard form in years at the time - Rick James
Jay Z, in a typical act of rap artist modesty, calls himself "The greatest rapper alive". I'm not willing to go that far (give me Rakim, Q-Tip, or Chuck D), but the dude's good. I think with him, it's more a "sum of the parts" situation. I can't put my finger on any one thing that makes him stand out, but he does lots of little things really well. I think the best thing about his rapping is his phrasing. He doesn't strictly go line to line, verse to verse in the same rhythm. He mixes his delivery up really well which keeps any of his songs from getting monotonous and keeps you listening and interested. For an example of what I'm getting at here, check the "It's - about -to- go-down" delivery about a minute into the song. All the hallmarks of "bling" music are there - Cristal champagne, Prada, Gucci, Remi Martin, "cheddar", weed, ecstasy, Belvedere, and the like. Hell, even Atlanta's infamous Cheetah is name checked.
Lyrically in this song, and I know you may not believe this, but Jay Z seems to have many, many women after him. He warns these ladies that they must be sexualy proficient to spend time with him, but be warned! Although he has lots and lots (and lots) of money, he's NOT willing to spend it on you.
I kid with this, obviously it's not a weighty message of social commentary like "Fight the Power", but I've always felt it's unfair to hold rap songs to standards like that. Shit, 90% of rock music is about chasing tail and getting fucked up, but no one is calling out Van Halen for not having an uplifting, responsible message. Plus, you have to have chuckle at a couplet like this :
Yeah, save the narrative you savin it for marriage Let's keep it real ma you savin it for cabbage
Embedding is forbidden! So, click here if you'd like to watch the video. It's a party!
For previous Zeppelin musings, check here. As a general rule, I don't repeat artists that appear unless they are one of my biggies. Zeppelin is, for sure.
This song is one of my favorites on Physical Graffiti , which is a double album that takes the genre-expanding possibilities hinted at in Led Zeppelin III (my personal favorite, by the way) and delivers, bigtime. From classic Zeppelin cock-rock to lengthy blues romps, roots bluegrass, and beautiful instrumental ballads, Physical Graffiti has it all.
"In The Light" was the first song on side two of the Physical Graffiti tape (date myself? Nah), and I have very specific memories of listening to this "tape" over and over at a friend's house in high school, his bedroom filled with green light from a Kroger party lightbulb, probably finishing up some marathon role-playing game. So, believe it or not, those are good, comforting memories.
This song has a very long intro, which features Page producing an eerie sound by using a violin bow on an acoustic guitar to act as the bass. It also features an instrument relatively new to the Zeppelin sound up until then - the keybord. Also new was the total turn from the blues-based formula for which Zeppelin had become famous. You can hear the Middle Eastern influence creeping into the song right from the start, a style with which Jimmy Page would become more and more fascinated with until he finally unleashed it in the astonishing No Quarter album years after Zeppelin's demise.
Nigel Tufnel - an obvious influene on Page's style (Interesting, also, that this song follows "Kashmir" on the album, considered by some the quintessential Led Zeppelin song and itself a tune with stong lyrical and musical roots in the Middle East.)
Plant and Page come in with the first lyrics at 1:44, hauntingly harmonized and heavily reverbed. Then at 2:45, another keyboard kicks in, a monstrous descending riff backed by John Bonham's first appearance in the song. They settle into a nice groove here for a while, then suddenly at 4:11, literally halfway through, there is a thirdkeyboard break followed by Page's wonderful ascending riff at 4:25 (contrasting nicely with the earlier descending scale). Stylistically, it's a whole new song here, and, reflective of the title and lyrics, brings the listener "In the light", highlighted by a change from a minor to a major key. Do you see how they manipulated you there? Don't you love it, though? It's brilliant stuff and the kind of mature songwriting these guys never get credit for.
Then, five minutes in, we suddenly go back to Kashmir, as it were - the strange, droning sound that began the song. They lock into that bluesy groove again, then hit the descending riff immediately followed by the ascending guitar. That riff and Page tracking some solo work over it takes us home, this time leaving us "In The Light" (and if we don't get it, I've always liked the way Plant sings "Light, light, light...In the Light" at the end of the song.)
Think about it: in the five years since their debut, which was essentially heavy covers of blues standards, Zeppelin had grown as artists to produce a song and album like this. It's a phenomenal growth curve for a band in such a short amount of time, and explains why every generation for decades now has come to revere Zeppelin and claim them as their own.
Note: I couldn't find a YouTube video of the song. Apparently Led Zeppelin is very protective of their image as such. I'm sure anyone bothering to read this already has a coy of "In the Light" you could cue up, but if you don't, you can download the song below. I've also included a pretty cool alternate take of the song I did find. Obviously, my notes above are about the studio recording.
Well, here I am back from a long sabbatical. And what a way to come back - the moment some of you have dreaded is finally upon us. After 80 posts here, I've finally landed on a Rush song. You'd think having 176 songs of theirs on my itunes (plus owing them the title of the blog) would have made them come up a bit sooner, but maybe it's appropiate that they lead my blogging comeback, especially with this song.
I really don't know how to offer up any context about this band. You either love them or you hate them, and I'm not going to change anyone's mind; God knows I've tried. Over the years I've had to defend myself from attacks by haters, even going in the closet about them, but that time seems to have passed. Against all odds, Rush has become, if not loved, grudgingly respected by the rock world. It's safe to say that when you get slobbery wet kisses from the likes of the Judd Apatow crew The Colbert Report, it's OK to break out the T shirt again
The first time I really stated getting into them was back in 1986. I would spend most weekends with some other buddies at Trey Watson's house, eating, wasting time, listening to music, all the monotonous stuff kids do before they are able to drive. He put on Rush's best-known classic Moving Pictures, and once I heard Geddy Lee's voice hit the high note on "...what you say" in "Tom Sawyer", I was enthralled. After that, I began buying their tapes at KMart in the $4.99 rack and loved them all - Hemispheres, Fly By Night, Rush, A Farewell to Kings. Permanent Waves (still my favorite of theirs) was the first CD I ever bought after I got my first CD player in 1989.
I caught up to the bands back catalogue pretty quickly in time for their first release as a new fan, 1989's Presto. On my eighteenth birthday, May 1st, 1990, I saw them in concert for the first time, pretty much cementing their all-time #1 status with me.
I can't really describe why I like the band the way I do. Rush fans are pretty much known for being obsessive about the band, exalting them to near-deity status. I think being a musician helps, as they are very much a band loved by other band / guitar geeks. For me, a big part is Neil Peart's lyrics. He gets lots of shit for pretentious navel-gazing and has a bad rap for writing Dungeons and Dragons nonsense he can't seem to shake (Rush hasn't written lengthy narrative songs in years), but I like the fact that this band addresses the spectrum of human existence and human interaction - not just love.
Now having praised Peart's lyrics, I have to admit this particular song doesn't come off without a couple of missteps. "Hold On" is the final song off of their most recent album, Snakes & Arrows. It's the best album they have done in twenty years, in my opinion, maybe even more. They have really stripped down their sound these days, sounding much more organic and comfortable. "We Hold On" is a classic Rush album closer, as they are known among fans as some of the strongest tracks on their albums over the years.
It begins with a slow build - Geddy's voice over Alex Lifeson's arpeggios and a simple beat from Peart. The music is low to highlight the first verse:
How many times Do we tire of all the little battles Threaten to call it quits Tempted to cut and run How many times Do we weather out the stormy evenings Long to slam the front door Drive away into the setting sun
Then at :39, the song takes off - kicking up the tempo and introducing Lifeson's little riff (really, if you follow this band, Alex Lifeson is the clear star of this album). Unfortunately, as previous mentioned, I find one line in the chorus a little painful:
Keep going on till dawn
(Ouch. Really, Neil, you're better than that.)
How many times must another line be drawn? We could be down and gone But we hold on
Yeah, the second line in the chorus saves it - I love the determination behind it. The second verse is even better:
How many times do we chaff against the repetition Straining against the faith Measured out in coffee breaks How many times Do we swallow our ambition Long to give up the same old way Find another road to take
See, here's why I love this band. That couplet - "Straining against the faith / Measured out in coffee breaks" is a clear allusion to a line in T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock":
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
This adds another layer to the song's meaning. It's not merely about longevity, it's about putting your foot down (not "drawing another line" as the song puts it), and as Prufrock does in the famous poem, breaking out of a mundane, everyday existence.
There are, literally, hundreds of these types of intricacies to Preart's lyrics .I can listen to a song I've heard thousands of times before and sometimes I will suddenly figure out a lyric I've puzzed over or never payed attention to. It's a band that rewards careful listening, and I appreciate that they respect themselves and their audience that way.
The song carries on through a short bridge then back to the chorus at which point they are locked in instrumentally. (In particular, listen so Peart's stops, starts, off-beats, rolls, and the like at the end of the bridge - 3:12 to 3:17. There's a reason "The Professor" might be the most famous rock drummer....ever). The only thing that bothers me about this song is the tempo. If is was just a hair faster, it would be a new Rush classic. As it is, it's still great for a bunch of dudes pushing sixty, thirty years into their career.
There. That wasn't so unbearable, was it? Now listen to the song. It's not going to kill ya.
Ween, for me, works on multiple levels. I definitely enjoy their snide senses of humor and over the top outlandish manner, but in the end, Dene and Gene make some damn fine songs. (Yeah, I have to include this. Still holds up)
This song, off the fantastic White Pepper album, would be completely cringeworthy if anyone else had recorded it. It sounds like a cross between Pink Floyd and a great 70's AM radio song. When you begin a song with an earnest line like: "Reaching out now and I touch your face", and back it with soft acoustic strumming, you are challenging the listener from the get-go. If almost anyone else began a song this way, I probably would have laughed it off and skipped to the next one, but because it's Ween, you do a spit-take. It couldn't possibly be taken at face value. It's their "love song", if my use of quotes there makes sense.
You can tell what I mean about these dudes being pop auteurs in listening here, though. It's a very mellow tune with a great chorus that sticks in your brain. My favorite part actually comes in that chorus, the funky little guitar riff in the background (listen for it after "Calm the light" at about :50). Then there's a Ween trademark in there too- the weird, distorted vocal part ("should you carry what you are is cooked until it's done" Uh...sure guys.) You find yourself getting over the joke and humming along, immersed in the song...which means, I guess, the joke's on you.
Suddenly at 1:20, this turns into a cousin of "Welcome to the Machine" or something. A completely trippy keyboard instrumental break lasts for half a minute, then we're back in Bread land with another verse.
One reason I've liked Ween and bought every new CD since the seminal "Push 'th Little Dasies" is their musical diversity. I love albums in which the artist tries out different styles with each song, while still retaining the essential "themness" which made you like them in the first place. Seriously, "Chocolate and Cheese" has to be one of my favorite albums ever, and I like it for many more reasons than the laughs. In that CD they explore Faux-Vegas swinging, Philly soul, electric pop, and far out instrumentals. (Not to mention, it was in heavy, heavy rotation at the infamous "baseball house" in the mid 90's. But I digress)
Ween is still putting out quality product today, in 2007 they released La Cucuracha, which stands up there with the best of their work. These guys, while pretty widely beloved, never get quite the credit they deserve for their solid musical chops. Lyrics like "Friends in life are special / Do you want me as your special friend?" while appearing to be straight cheese, , actually dare you to look deeper to be rewarded. And when you do, you find yourself laughing less and grooving more.
