Sunday, July 31, 2016

Summer Nights

Lately, I've been recalling the summer of 1982 quite a bit.  Specifically, the late summer nights of that year.

I was 15, and I spent most nights in my bedroom, watching a portable b&w TV that looked just like this, orange color and all:

1982 was the year that LATE NIGHT WITH DAVID LETTERMAN premiered on NBC, and I was hooked.  It was like nothing I'd ever seen on TV before...incredibly funny, fresh, and subversive.  And things really were kicked up several notches the night in late July when Andy Kaufman and Jerry Lawler guested, to promote their pro wrestling feud:

And even after Letterman, there was good reason to stay up:  that summer, NBC debuted their new NEWS OVERNIGHT program.  Ordinarily, stations went off the air after 12:30 AM (or switched over to local programming), but the network decided to fill a few of those hours before dawn with this.  Although OVERNIGHT only lasted a couple of years, it proved to be a prototype for the 24 hours news cable channels.  Plus, it made a news star out of the awesome Linda Ellerbee!  It also made me into a hardcore news junkie.

Filling out the trifecta of late night enticements that season was an offering from my local PBS station, WTTW.  They had an early-morning series called SUMMER CAMP, in which they aired adventure serials and B-movies from the 1930s and 40s.  At a time when this stuff was hard to come by, I loved it.  In particular, I thought the "Flash Gordon" serials with Buster Crabbe were particularly terrific, and I still remember them fondly to this day:

I suppose the end result of all of this...beyond having my sense of humor shaped by Letterman, my inquisitiveness sparked by Ellerbee, and my love of old Hollywood adventures instilled...is that the summer of '82 left me to this day as an incurable night owl.  I just wish television now offered fare half as great as they did that year.

Friday, June 3, 2016

Tiananmen Square

On this day in 1989...




If you were old enough to grasp the significance of this image then, it has remained indelibly etched into your memory ever since.  One man bravely standing down a column of advancing tanks by himself.  And, more amazingly, he succeeds!

That's an impressive enough feat to accomplish with only one tank.  But if we look at a wider-lensed photo, we see that he was standing up to a whole lot more than one.




The lead tank crew, refusing to run the lone protestor over, shut off their engine, and the entire column was halted.  Eventually, two unidentified men arrived to quickly escort the protestor away.  The identity of "Tank Man" remains unknown to this day.  Many assume that the men who took him were with the national security service, and that he was most likely imprisoned and, eventually, executed.  But others think the men were fellow protestors who hid him from the government.  Leaked internal reports from the Chinese government suggest that, despite an intensive search, they were never able to find Tank Man, and that they don't even know his identity.  For his sake, I hope so.

Protestors in Tiananmen Square had already constructed their own Statue of Liberty to rally supporters to their cause.  Their 'Goddess of Democracy' stood 33 feet tall, made of papier-mâché and foam over a metal armature in a mere four days.  They made it so large because they knew the government would either have to accept its presence in the Square, or else destroy it utterly, rather than simply transporting it away.




Eventually, the Red Army managed to violently clear the Square, and tanks were used to topple and crush the statue.  The pro-democracy movement was brutally crushed in China.  For now, at least.

The People's Republic of China has gone to great lengths to make the entire protest disappear.  The Chinese people cannot find reference to it on the internet, nor see any photos.  Their history books contain not the slightest passing reference to it.  Foreign journalists report today that a majority of university students asked have no idea there ever was a protest.

Nevertheless, there have been a great many fundamental changes in China under the seemingly placid surface in the years since.  The protestors of 1989 took the hard-won lessons learned in Tiananmen Square and adapted them, going underground to slowly nudge their country closer to liberty and freedom from within.  It's inconceivable to think that today's young generation of Chinese would ever engage in things like the 1960s 'Cultural Revolution' again...they are far too committed to personal individualism and self-awareness to ever become faceless pawns like that again.

Who knows, in another generation, true democracy may come to China, and the Goddess of Democracy was be permanently holding her torch above Tiananmen Square for all to see. We can certainly hope so.

Thursday, June 2, 2016

5 classic rock songs that take a verbal poke at other musicians



One of the perks of being a successful rock star is that you aren't limited to insulting your rivals in the same plebeian ways of lesser mortals.  No, with a few gold records to their credit, one can vent their spleen in song, and then their spite becomes timeless, there to be enjoyed by generations to come.


Indeed, it’s almost become the norm now.  Think about it…if the dis song were suddenly banned, we’d lose about 30% of all hip hop for the past quarter century.



Anyway, here are what I consider to be the five best slams in classic rock…



5)  Sweet Home Alabama –Lynyrd Skynyrd (1974)




It isn’t that the members of Skynyrd didn’t agree with Neil Young, in principle.  Racism and segregation and lynching are all terrible, and worthy of scorn in song.  But in a pair of numbers which Young had written and recorded a few years previous, “Southern Man” and “Alabama”, the boys in Skynyrd felt that Canadian-born Neil was tarring the entire American South with the same brush.  Ultimately however, this tune has more bark than bite…Skynyrd still more or less agreed with Young’s point of view, so their chastising, which is pretty tame to begin with, doesn’t draw blood:


Well, I heard Mister Young sing about her /
Well, I heard ol' Neil put her down /
Well, I hope Neil Young will remember /
A Southern man don't need him around anyhow


Couple that with the fact that Neil really liked this song, and he’s gone on to publicly walk back some of the sentiments of his own work which prompted this riposte, and at the end of the day everybody is all smiles and back slapping.


Note of irony:  None of the guys in Lynyrd Skynyrd were actually from Alabama.



4)  Too Many People – Paul McCartney (1971)




McCartney’s second solo album, RAM, is rife with references to the break-up of the Beatles.  I could have easily gone with another song from the LP, like “Dear Boy” or “3 Legs”, but this tune seems to me to really go to the heart of Paul’s confusion and exasperation with his former bandmates, in particular John Lennon.


He starts a bit vague.  For all we know, he could be writing about Arsenal’s season that year…


Too many people going underground /
Too many reaching for a piece of cake /
Too many people pulled and pushed around /
Too many waiting for that lucky break


But then he goes right to the heart of the matter…


That was your first mistake /
You took your lucky break and broke it in two /
Now what can be done for you? /
You broke it in two


He’s teetering on the edge of bitterness, but McCartney being McCartney, he veers away.  You can almost hear the pain in his next voice when he sings…


Too many people breaching practices /
Don't let them tell you what you want to be /
Too many people holding back /
This is crazy and maybe it's not like me


Finally, unable to dwell on the anguish any longer, he sheds it and walks away…


That was your last mistake /
I find my love awake and waiting to be /
Now what can be done for you? /

She's waiting for me


Lennon took exception to what he saw as Paul’s barbs aimed at him, John apparently forgetting all of the nasty things he’d been saying about McCartney in the press for the past year or so.  But he in particular saw this song as justification to reply musically, which we’ll get to soon.



3)  You Don’t Move Me Anymore – Keith Richards (1988)




Twenty-five years after they made their first recordings, there was trouble between the Glimmer Twins.  Keith Richards and Mick Jagger were at odds over the musical direction of the Rolling Stones, and when Mick launched a solo career and effectively put the band on hold, Keith retaliated with a solo record of his own.  Critics raved about it, and no one could mistake the target of this particular song.  Lyrics like…


You made the wrong motion /
Drank the wrong potion /
You lost the feeling /
Not so appealing /
Why do you think you got no friends? /
You drove them all around the bend


…make it more than a little plain that ‘Keef’ had some frustration issues with his longtime musical cohort.


Happily, rather than widen the rift between them, this song helped Keith and Mick reconcile.  Just prior to the album’s release, Richards invited Jagger over to his home to get an advance listen.  Dropping the needle on the vinyl, Keith excused himself, leaving Mick alone in the room.  But what Mick didn’t know was that Keith was still able to see him from the next room, and what he saw, when Jagger thought he was alone, was the singer dancing his ass off.  Because a grudge mean nothing to Mick when the music is good.  With things patched up, the Stones reunited, and they’re still going strong to this day.  Thus is the power of sweet sonic slap upside the head.



2)  How Do You Sleep? – John Lennon (1971)




If the others songs on this list hit like slaps, then this one lands like a hydrogen bomb.  Lennon’s friends and enemies alike could attest to his biting, sometimes cruel wit.  And he unleashed all of the venom he had built up over his feud with McCartney for this…


So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise /
You better see right through that mother's eyes /
Those freaks was right when they said you was dead /
The one mistake you made was in your head /
How do you sleep?



He then goes for the sucker punch, belittling Paul’s songwriting since the halcyon days of the Lennon/McCartney partnership…



The only thing you done was yesterday /
And since you've gone it's just another day…

The sound you make is Muzak to my ears /
You must have learned something all those years


Legend has it, Lennon wrote another verse that was particularly cruel, but fellow ex-Beatle Ringo Starr, who plays drums on the track, told him they went too far, and they were cut out of the song.


Not long before his death, John more or less recanted this song, saying that it wasn’t really about Paul, but actually about himself, and the bitter place he was in at the time.  I’m not sure that’s quite the truth, but regardless, it was nice of him to let McCartney off of the hook.



1)  I Dig Rock and Roll Music – Peter, Paul & Mary (1967)




This is such a ceaselessly peppy little number, it’s easy to miss the acid behind the cheery words.  It’s 1967, flower power is in full bloom, and PP&M are not happy.  Earlier in the 60s, during the folk boom, they had emerged as major stars.  But the British Invasion basically relegated them to the shadows.  Even the folk rock trend didn’t please them, as they saw it as a bastardization of the true folk music they played and revered.


Tired of seeing their singles stall in the lower reaches of the charts, Paul Stookey finally decided to fight fire with fire, and he co-wrote for the trio a song steeped in the pop sensibilities of the day.  Radio listeners must have been thrilled to hear them name-check some fellow musical acts, but if they listened more closely to the lyrics, they would get the sense that PP&M weren’t exactly paying homage.  But before they get to that, they open up with a backhanded swipe at all of rock ‘n roll, their words dripping with sarcasm…


I dig rock and roll music and I love to get the chance to play (and sing it) /
I figure it's about the happiest sound goin' down today /
The message may not move me or mean a great deal to me /
But hey, it feels so groovy to say


Their first specific jab is at the Mamas and the Papas, whom PP&M clearly feel sing beautifully, even though the subject matter of their songs is vapid, telling us the foursome “got a good thing goin' when the words don't get in the way”.


Next up on the hit parade is British folk rocker Donovan, who had begun his career as a straight folkie before going electric (thus ‘betraying’ folk music).  His music, they inform us, is all “crystal images tell you 'bout a brighter day”.  For Peter, Paul & Mary, proper music serves a noble purpose, be it civil rights, peace, or the brotherhood of man.  To them, Donovan and his fey ditties like “Epistle to Dippy” aren’t just pointless…they actually distract people from the important things in life.


Lastly, they go after the biggest dogs on the porch, the Beatles…


And when the Beatles tell you, they've got a word ‘Love’ to sell you /
They mean exactly what they say


Lastly, biting the hand that feeds them, the trio lash out at Top 40 radio.  Hey, you’ve got to give them credit…when they get into a fight, they don’t stop swinging until they’re the last ones left standing…


I dig oh, rock and roll music I could really get it on in that scene /
I think I could say somethin' if you know what I mean /
But if I really say it, the radio won't play it /
Unless I lay it between the lines


With as much vitriol as is on display here, this has all the makings of musical disaster, the kind that wrecks careers on the shoals.  But here’s the funny thing…it was a huge hit.  And deservedly so, because this is a brilliant piece of pop music.


For all of their frustration, the group were smart enough to layer a bit of whimsy over their performance, taking a lot of the edge off without compromising the intent of the lyrics.  And what a performance they give!  They had already proven themselves masters at three-part harmony, but here they not only give a nearly spot-on impersonation of the Mamas and Papas, but also of Donovan and the Beatles (complete with “Strawberry Fields”-ish sound effects).  It’s an irresistible tune, and it’s impossible to not hum along to it.  It’s also the song that has probably most established the enduring fame of the trio to this day.  Sure, a lot of people know “Puff the Magic Dragon” and “Leaving on a Jet Plane”, but it’s this song that still gets regular airplay on oldies stations...and the song that made them bona fide rock stars.  And I’ve no doubt the irony of that amused Peter, Paul & Mary to no end.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

5 Songs that Prove Paul McCartney is Wrong

A few days ago, Paul McCartney told a BBC reporter that, regarding his 1970s band, Wings, "We were terrible.  We weren't a good group."

Now, in the sense that Wings was never a proper group, he's right.  They were never more than Paul and his sidemen of the moment, no matter how much he insisted at the time that they were all equals.  (Excluding Paul, over the group's decade-long existence, there were nine other members at various times including, most controversially for many, his wife, Linda.  All of the musicians were good...Paul wouldn't settle for anything else...but the best of the bunch was probably Henry McCullough, who had gotten his first break as lead guitarist for Joe Cocker's band, where he played at Woodstock, and he also played the guitar on the cast album for Jesus Christ Superstar.  His shining moment in Wings was undoubtedly the stunning guitar solo he created on the spot while recording "My Love" in '73.  But you probably know Henry best as the guy who says, "I don't know, I was really drunk at the time" at the end of "Money" on Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon.)

But as a musical unit, they were never "terrible".  True, they rose and fell on the strength of the songs which McCartney wrote, but even with some of his lesser efforts, the musicianship was never anything short of impressive.  Wings at their worst were better than the entire musical output of a lot of other artists.

And at their best, they were among the very best bands of the '70s.  Need proof?  Fine, here are five instances in which Paul McCartney and Wings nailed it, and nailed it big.

"Let Me Roll It" (1973)
A highlight from Band on the Run, which is considered by quite a few fans and critics alike to be the best album the band ever did.  Many call this Paul's 'John Lennon' song, as both the lyrics and, in particular, the musical style had striking similarities to the kind of music John himself was recording at the time.

"Junior's Farm" (1974)
A non-album single that rocks, which makes the fact that it was written and recorded while the band was staying in Nashville, Tennessee kind of amusing, as there's nothing country about this.

"Beware My Love" (1976)
As a track on Wings at the Speed of Sound, it was a genuine highlight, but it really came alive on stage, with the whole band really sliding into the groove.

"Mull of Kyntyre" (1977)
After back-to-back albums recorded in 1975 and '76, followed by a lengthy world tour, Paul and the band were exhausted, so McCartney limited their work in '77 to this single.  It was a huge hit in Britain (for many years to come, the biggest selling song in UK history), but curiously it failed to hit in America.  But it's a great pastiche of traditional British folk styles, topped off with a rousing blare of bagpipes.

"With a Little Luck" (1978)
During the band's sabbatical, music on both sides of the Atlantic made huge sea changes.  In the U.S., disco emerged as the dominant musical trend, while in England, punk rock was all the rage.  Rather than kowtow to either, McCartney plunged ahead with this, a sweet pop love song with, of all things, prog rock undertones.  Against all odds, it was a huge hit, and deservedly so.

Honorable Mention: "Coming Up (Live at Glasgow)" (1980)
Paul didn't officially disband Wings until 1981, but the band effectively ended in January of '80, when they traveled to Japan to kick off a tour of Asia, only to have it canceled when McCartney was arrested and deported for marijuana possession.  Back home in England that spring, Paul decided to put out a new LP consisting of tracks he had recorded in his home studio over the past year or so.  As he played all of the instruments himself, he decided to release it as a solo record, called McCartney II, with no mention of Wings.  One of the tracks, a techno pop ditty called "Coming Up", was released as a single; for the b-side, Paul opted to include the same song, albeit a more rocking live version done by Wings on tour the previous fall, when it was still expected by the group that a new studio version of the tune done by Wings proper was likely to happen soon.  The song was a huge hit worldwide, but in the U.S. at least, it was the live flip side that got the most airplay, making it the last foray by Wings onto the Top 40 chart.