Mary Timony is on the short list of Boston rock n roll legends: and honestly the list is not that long. J Geils and Aerosmith broke ground in the early 70’s, the Cars, Boston and the seminal underrated Mission of Burma held down the late 70’s early 80’s. The list both expanded and thinned in the 80’s with Til Tuesday and the Throwing Muses, and the Pixies leading the pop/punk pack, and some lesser known heavies and punks popping into national attention. The 90’s saw a resurgence of talent with the ska lords Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Letters to Cleo, the Lemonheads, Juliana Hatfield and the inexplicably lesser well known band Helium. Here our tale begins.
Helium
Helium was fronted by Mary Timony, and for a trio, they sure made an impression. Mixing deep but fragile girl vocals on top of the eclectic pop/prog mixture of off kilter rhythms, acid tinged fantasy lyrics sprinkled throughout, clanky guitars and piercing synths-they had a unique scifi sound that has to be heard to be believed. Riding a wave in the 90’s that pushed female led quirky bands to the forefront of attention, the were the definition of ‘in the right place at the right time’. Their second and final album in 1997 ‘The Magic City’ is a stone cold classic: timeless in perspective and absolutely brilliant in execution, it appeals across a wide spectrum of tastes. Nearly every song on the album qualifies as a classic- from Vibrations to the mind bending Revolution of Hearts-there are no clunkers. Here is a taste of the album to give you an idea, a song she’s performed on this tour:
I’ve got a rainbow dragon we can ride….
The demise of Helium was felt throughout several genre communities-yet another band that called it quits waaaaaay too soon. But Mary had plans.
2000’s Mountains sounds like stripped down Helium demos, sparse yet complete in conception, perhaps some material intended for a never released Helium third lp. Comparisons to Syd Barrett here aren’t too far off. The complexities of the former band laid to bare bones of a song, with emotion on full display, lilting and vulnerable.
This album should have gotten more attention than it did…
The Golden Dove in 2002 and Ex Hex in 2005 followed the trail of ‘less is more’ to perhaps diminishing returns. Mary all but disappeared from the scene for a long while. Then Ex Hex the band was born, an all female trio that toured low key indie locales from 2014 through 2019 and got some attention in larger scenes (Coachella being one). Punky, primal and more energetic, here is a taste of their first album,
Live, they weren’t as together as this video shows, they were much more raw. (read: sloppy at times). Things didn’t seem quite as driven as things were in the 1995-2000 era. Then-we didn’t hear much from her.
One reason is that things maybe weren’t perfect behind the scenes. The blurb on the Drake website for this tour ended on a puzzling note:
“As an artist, you have to keep dealing with your shit. Otherwise, you can’t keep making your art.” —Mary Timony
For more than 30 years, singer-songwriter and guitar hero Mary Timony has cut a distinctive path through the world of independent music, most recently as vocalist and guitarist of acclaimed garage-pop power trio Ex Hex (Merge) but also as a member of seminal post-punk band Autoclave (Dischord), celebrated leader of the deeply influential Helium (Matador), multifaceted solo artist (Matador, Lookout!, Kill Rock Stars), and a co-founder of supergroup Wild Flag (Merge). Described by Sleater-Kinney’s Carrie Brownstein as “Mary Shelley with a guitar” and dubbed “a trailblazer and an innovator” by [Mary’s former guitar student] Lindsey Jordan a.k.a. Snail Mail, Timony has distinguished herself as one of her generation’s most influential guitarists and songwriters. Although she has remained a cult hero and critical favorite since the early ’90s, appearing everywhere from 120 Minutes episodes to Coachella sets, Timony’s many triumphs have long been counterbalanced by crippling doubt and self-nullification.
In a recent interview, Mary allows us into exactly the shit she’s been dealing with. Break up with long term decade long partner, mother and father cancer and passing away all in a very short period of time. Working on her new album, Untame the Tiger, she said was the the only thing keeping her recently shattered life together. The 2024 album is kind of a mix of the many paths she’s trodden upon over the last 35 years. Here is the title track, an elegy of sorts to everything right and wrong in life:
I wasn’t sure what to expect for this show. She’s been out of the loop. I had similar feelings to the first time I saw Roky Erickson in his return to the floorboards-this could be a shitshow, this could be amazing. The results were somewhere in between. First thing, this tour Mary has been delivering frustratingly short sets. Varying from between 10 and 12 songs, her sets tick in at just around an hour.
The crowd seemed to consist mostly of mid to late 90’s indie rock kids, now 30 years older, but still hip. Anyone expecting a career overview would be sorely disappointed, as 8 of the 12 songs were from her new album. Unlike my last time seeing her with Ex Hex, she managed to slip in some Helium songs. Leon’s Space Song and final encore Walk Away from the Magic City and Honeycomb from The Dirt of Luck kept those hoping for a taste of the past happy. The new material was a mixed bag, as the delivery onstage at the beginning of the set had some bumps. Her guitars were just a hair out of tune, straddling the fine line: ‘is this planned or is it really not tuned?’ Her guitar runs had a tightrope feel from time to time as she hit some walls in what some could call ‘under rehearsed’. But the lo fi vibe has been part of her charm throughout, so some foibles added to the evening’s charm. At the first chords of Leon’s Space Song, the energy picked up as the crowd, the band and Mary all ticked up a notch. From here, the next 3 songs seemed tighter. She teasingly asked the crowd at the end ‘do you want one more? Or two more?’ The title track of the new album led into a full workout of the Magic City anchor Walk Away-a song that perhaps covers her past present and future lyrically. Musically? It was heavenly. One by one her band (some long time collaborators) left the stage at roughly one minute intervals: Mary first, then after a bit only the bassist and drummer remained, still playing the precise rhythm of the song, intricate drum patterns interlocked with a formidable bass underpinning. Then….only drums, then…silence. And with that, a short 60 minutes after she hit the stage, it was over.
Here is the show from the night before, same setlist:
Did art imitate life? Some things went wrong tonight some things went right. Mary’s life has had plenty of the same, both rights and wrongs. Was it blow your mind good? No. Did she deliver a hugely entertaining (if short) glimpse into the mind of one of Boston’s finest? Definitely yes. Timony is one for the ages, warts and all. And one of the legends of Boston rock? For real. Go see it while you can.
2023. Felt like the first year since Covid that things really started back up and had returned to some form of normalcy: no masks, no social distancing (I miss that one for smaller crowds in packed venues), food and drink available in abundance-ya know, normal stuff. Bands also came out of hibernation, some off the road for years. So… clanking the rust off both bands and fans, let’s begin.
Dead and Company, Fenway Park June 25, 2023
Giant Bob Weir surveys the crowd, estimating profits
It is hard to believe that the Dead and Company run, cynically plugged as a cash grab back in Fall 2015, came to the end of an 8 year run. And on the second night of Fenway Park’s two night run, this was the last Dead show in the New England/NY area, ever. I don’t think many in the crowd had let that sink in, and tonight was just a good ol’ Grateful Dead party. Oh, and it was hot. Hot as fuck. Like so hot if your seats were in the sun you couldn’t sit in them. But considering my unbroken string of over 35 years not sitting in my ticketed seat at a Dead show, relocating to the shade and a better angle on the stage was not a problem.
The lack of a proper parking lot at Fenway kept the Deadhead vibe down-no shakedown street to speak of. Also, despite the promo photo for the tour, no Bill Kreutzman. This was unexpected that old Bill would call in sick for the final to do list, nixing the whole tour. Oteil was resplendent in face make up and was the lynchpin that kept the band thundering throughout the second set. He is always a force to be reckoned with, but for this show he pulled out all the stops, and there was something delightfully amiss this night with him-a lysergic madman unleashed.
Oteil tripping barefoot in the park at this one, and it helped
The second set started inauspiciously with the tepid They Love Each Other. But then…something happened. The tempo for this one got jacked to an insane level and the band hit lightspeed. John Mayer deserves special mention here. It is maddening to think that after all these years, from derp goofball in 2015 beginnings, Mayer has now finally at the end fully assimilated the Dead experience, and can pull out a full on psychedelic masterwork from his guitar at a moments notice. His guitar work on They Love Each Other brought the song to places it had never been with Jerry Garcia-strong words.
Lighting Up
Then began a seamless run: Playing in the Band->Help on the Way-> Slipknot->Fire on the Mountain->Drums/Space->Playing in the Band->The Other One. This was Grateful Dead era level performance, no lie. The band was telepathic and brought the crowd to a crescendo of kairos level psychic approval several times. The set ended with the Garcia penned Standing on the Moon with Bob Weir drawing out the chorus “Beeeeeee With Youuuu” over and over, like a thundering call to the universe, to Jerry, to everyone in the park. Cathartic. A rare double encore brought the last Dead show in the Northeast to a fitting end. At that point of the tour, heads had this show pegged as ‘best in show’ so far. I don’t know if it got topped, but this was certainly the way to go out for the last time. It is rare that bands these days actually go out on a peak, usually they are heading down a long slide. The Dead are a band that just got better and better over the last few years. Check out Mayer’s meltdown near the end of Standing on the Moon:
‘dust off those rusty strings just one more time, gonna make ’em shine, shiiine!’
Although there were no plans to see any shows this year in Italy, that’s not what Italy had planned for me….
Beethoven 9th Symphony, Baths of Caracalla RomeJuly 9
Huge orchestra supplemented by equally huge chorus
So this one I actually bought tickets for in the States before leaving. Beethoven’s 9th symphony has always been a favorite. It is the traditional season ending piece each year at Tanglewood–Beethoven’s signature symphony with powerful choral sections to bring it to a dramatic conclusion, almost like it presaged goth metal bands. To see it in the middle of ancient Roman ruins though? Awe inspiring. And this performance lived up to the setting: powerful, subtle, spine tingling all in the space of just this single symphony. It was also a sold out event, with the crowd spanning all ages and all kinds of fans of different music, not what one would observe at a classical show in America. Might have worn a Banco del Mutuo Succorso shirt to this one, not sure.
Lucca Summer Festival, Lucca Italy
This apparently is an annual summer festival in the small medieval walled in city of Lucca, near Pisa. The list of bands was eclectic and impressive for an outdoor festival located in the main piazza or square of such a small town. Here was the list on tap for their summer, eclectic and highly impressive: ( I can’t imagine Kiss, Bob Dylan and half Sex Pistols/half Generation X rolling into downtown of my small town in one week)
Thursday, June 29, starting with 9.30 pm:KISS, in Piazza Napoleone. > Buy Ticket
I was unaware of any of this when I arrived on the 16th. Cooling off with an aperol spritz at a cafe, I heard a fairly meaty sound system cough into life. Then it really tuned up and I wondered what the hell was going on? This was not a local festival level sound system, this was Madison Square Garden level sound system. I went across town to investigate. It was frighteningly hot, with the sun glaring on a stage. A British opening band was in the direct sunlight-didn’t catch their name, but the main event was going to be One Republic-a treacly pop band led by frontman Ryan Tedder, a dude who has written songs for Beyonce, Paul McCartney, U2, Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, Jonas Brothers….you get the idea. His band is mostly known for the single Counting Stars. I managed to relocate within the perimeter of the concert area at a cafe with the promise that “I’d order food and wine”. The manager had clearly set up ground rules early, but let us in to watch. I thought it was mildly interesting, but for free, and outdoors, a cool evening. The highlight was the medley of songs he’d written for other artists.
Once I figured out what the deal was, I looked to find what was on tap for the 17th, if anything. HOLY SHIT! Pat Metheny from Massachusetts/Berklee College of Music fame? Well, I guess we are going to that, right? Open starry skies? Perfect weather? Got to watch soundcheck close up, then decided to pop for real seats rather than the cafe side seating route.
Pat Metheny in concert is timeless. He started with a guitar that had, I don’t know, about forty strings on it. He also brought out a compact version of the orchestrion-a series of multiple percussion instruments in a large clear box that were played by robots. I’m not kidding. Read about that one here. It is 19th century technology that was once popular then dusted off and updated, it fleshed the sound out incredibly, and wasn’t a synthesizer. It was multiple real instruments hit by multiple hammers, mallets, sticks….hard to describe.
Pat says 42 strings is enough
A perfect evening with Metheny playing flawlessly under a starlight Tuscan evening in a piazza? It was incredible. Plus I had already seen him on the first leg of this tour in….2021? SideEye tour goes forever. Setlist here.
Muse Stadio Olympico Rome July 18
Will of the People World Tour
This one was unplanned. Three major concerts in three days? I decided on trying to go after seeing a huge television screen advertising this seven days ahead of time in Termini train station in Rome as I headed north. I had missed the huge Italian band Maneskin the previous year by one day at Circus Maximus, and Maneskin was playing this stadium the day I left Italy this year. With the prompting of the enormo television, I set to try to experience something similar anyway. So I decided to try the Italian stubhub to see what was available. Floor seats for 60 euro? Let’s do it! Unbeknownst to me, the 18th turned out to be the hottest day in the history of recorded temperatures in Rome, no shit. 41.8 deg C, or a balmy 107.2 deg F was the high that afternoon. They pushed the starting time to 9 pm to get things cooled a little, but it was still incredibly hot. I cannot imagine being trapped in the seats in this 75,000 seat stadium. The floor at least gave you room to move around and stay cool, plus be very close to the beer stands.
Muse was pitched to me way back in 2005 as a band I’d like. “they are prog!” my friend told me, “you will love them”. I sort of filed that away, but never looked much closer. Now, in 2023, Muse stand as one of the most attention grabbing shows, winning best live band three years running. Like some bastard child of later day Pink Floyd mated with Queen, trying to play Radiohead songs, Muse has the live thing down. Flames, lights, projections are seamlessly cued together to create an overall effect that defines ‘stadium rock concert.’ Day of show prices had gone through the roof on stubhub: floor seats were ticking over $200 and the economical stadium seats had gone from $35 to over $100. … +1 for planning ahead
The jaded might say ‘this is style over substance, spectacle over musical’. While this certainly was a spectacle, their material holds up pretty well. And a lot of it is designed to succeed in a stadium/arena format as well. From the opening chant and Will of the People to the final notes of Knights of Cydonia, Muse delivered a flawless and attention grabbing set of prog/space/metal. Certainly a band you need to see once.
Full show:
Back to the States…
Phil Lesh and Friends, Westville Music Bowl-Yale New Haven CT July 23
Five short days after roasting in the hottest day ever in the history of Rome, it was back to New Haven for one of the hotter days in New England in a while. Tarps covered the instruments before the show so they didn’t melt/misbehave/catch fire/
Even Phil had a curtained off area onstage with a cushioned chair to nip off to in case of exhaustion. The show got pushed an hour to let the sun go down and cool things off a bit. Since this was the last show of the tour, there were some expectations of some surprises. The opening notes struck, and then clearly on bass…the intro to Dark Star! Woah. They jammed on that a bit and then settled down into a long China Cat-> I Know You Rider. His son Grahame Lesh led the band through a fast paced first set with an energy that defied the temperatures.
Phil is 82 pushing 83, and I had missed a chance to see him in 2022 in NY, bemoaning the unlikely chance he’d ever venture out of San Francisco again. Also toting a bass that weighs in over ten pounds strapped around the neck under hot stage lighting, well hopes were not high for a return to the east coast. Knowing that the timing of this show would rub up against returning from Italy was never in consideration, and jet lagged to the max, drove down to New Haven.
The second set run of Help on the Way->Slipknot-> Let it Grow->Scarlet Begonias->Dark Star->Playing in the Band was a high energy blast. During Dark Star, a 1980’s version of Lesh started to bubble up as he churned complex runs that harkened back to his days of dive bomb bass runs, explosions following intricate treble runs up the neck. Discussions online also pegged this show as the highlight of the summer tour. Nice.
full show
Thus ends part one, a sandwich of Grateful Dead to start and finish around an unexpected round of live shows in Italy. Part two to come.
“Settle down Tommy, it’s been over for 30 out of the last 35 years”
So the day has finally come and gone: the final Kiss show on the End of the Road tour, some 250+ shows since this shindig of a farewell started in January 2019 and ended this past weekend, December 2023, nearly five long years later. That’s a mighty long farewell (but don’t forget the pause from March 2020 until August 2021), but Kiss was never one to not prolong something forever.
A Bigger Bang?
They promised they’d bring it to an end in the place it started, New York City, in a huge raging party and special events that would make their long and storied career have some, you know, meaning. An end to the end of the road. What could this mean? They gave hints: Peter Criss and Ace Frehley have an open invitation to participate. Vinnie Vincent, wherever he is might then make a show for the Lick it Up era. The possibilities were tantalizing and myriad. And with tickets for the enormo Garden ticking in at $400+ on stubhub, anticipation was at a fever pitch. A cool $38.95 could bring a live stream cast of the show into your living room where you could sing along at top volume. I know many charter members who balked at the prices, guys who were in the Kiss Army in 1976. They knew better.
Paul Stanley shows Ace and Peter the official invitation to join up for one more show
Ace to Paul and Gene
This could be the most legendary thing rock n roll has ever seen. Maybe Peter will come out of the floor and sing Beth on piano (or a taped version of piano?) Both Ace and Peter on Rock n Roll All Night? Bruce Kulick onstage with the band for a jam on a rock classic? Uh no.
What did they do? They lied. Like Kiss usually does since the late 1970’s, they dressed up a turd and pretended it was a glazed Boston Cream donut. The opportunity to put a stamp on the 50 year career was right there, waiting.
The Song Remains the Same
But instead they chose to do the same exact goddamn show they’ve played the whole fucking tour. No extra songs, no stage chatter acknowledging the enormity of this world wide carnival and continual musical farce coming to an end. Zero acknowledgement of Peter or Ace (forget Vinnie and Eric Carr at that point) One got the impression that Carr had better odds of showing up (read: being allowed onstage) than Ace and Peter, and he’s been dead since 1991. The show was a duplicate of every single show they’ve done on this tour, note for note, song for song, Stanley ‘tween song inane stage banter identical. Kiss is now so heavily choreographed and timed out, replete with backing vocal tapes for Paul’s singing and Gene’s now croaking voice to make them sound halfway competent that introducing Frehley and Criss was something that was a chance that Gene and Paul were unwilling to take. The odds of something going wrong, the edge of mayhem vibe that Kiss exuded (who expected Gene to light his own hair on fire at their first showcase in 1973?) was too frightening. Basically saying that the tenets of rock n roll: who fucking cares let’s let it rip and hope for the best, was out the window for a safe, pre programmed and sanitized version of Kiss.
Kiss Meets the Phantom of the Avatars
And that’s not what Rock n Roll is about kids. But wait, they weren’t done yet.
Are you fucking kidding me? This is the bonus for the last show ever?
Oh, there was one final deviation: a projection on screen and an announcement of the continuation of Kiss, as digital avatars. Yup that’s right, Kiss will exist as 3D animation to play and amuse your great-grandchildren, should the planet survive the next 25 years.
So let’s recap:
+The show opened with Alison Hagendorf perched with chairs as a talk show host on the mini stage in the crowd that Paul Stanley flies to. She showed a collection of videos featuring her Gene and Paul where she breathlessly played a fawning sycophant while interacting with the band, culminating in a Swatch Kiss commercial. I am not kidding. A Kiss Swatch commercial? Then teased that a ‘very special surprise’ would be coming at the end of the show. “what could it be? It must be a huge surprise?”
+Kiss delivered an identical show to every show they’ve played on this leg of the tour. No extra songs, same banter, same solos, same old story, same old song and dance…unreal. They had a chance to put a stamp on their career and instead chose the path of least resistance and phoned it in.
+No mention of Ace Frehley or Peter Criss, the guys who a. designed the Kiss logo, and b. invented their make up and characters that have been appropriated by Thayer and Singer. Also no mention of Eric Carr or Bruce Kulick (or even Mark St John) as people who carried the band from the glory days through the lean years, leading up to the last two decades of ‘Kiss as Beatlemania! Not a band but a realistic recreation of one!’
+No retrospective video showing the progression of the band from 1972’s Wicked Lester days until present. This is pretty much standard for many bands touring into their fifth decade at some point. (See: Martin Barre celebrating Jethro Tull’s 50th)
+Lying to the crowd claiming there is an 11:00 pm curfew at MSG. There is not. Anyone who runs past 11:00 however as overtime has to pay the union rigging team extra pay to stay late. God forbid any extra dollars get out of the precious Kiss piggy bank to give the fans something extra-special on the final night.
+Not a peep out of Gene Simmons the whole evening.
+NO guest stars to jam with. Joe Perry? Slash? Nikki Sixx? Likely this would expose the trickery the band uses and even acknowledges at this point. Stanley’s hoarse croaking singing voice, Gene’s nearly non existent singing voice fleshed out with pre taped vocals, extra instruments on tape to hold it together-well these aren’t things that mesh well with unplanned jams. Kiss would look like an amateur act trying to hack their way through a semi rehearsed Yardbirds or Jeff Beck tune.
+Then as a final slap in the face to fans, they handed out randomly on the way out: 24k gold plated embossed tickets. Pretty cool looking, but multi fans grabbed more than one, and most did not get one. These tix are now on eBay for $500-$1000 each. How they did not figure out to give one per ticket upon admission at the gate is beyond me, as this is standard for every concert, sporting event or frickin Ice Capades.
+Oh, I nearly forgot that very special surprise at the end. NO Ace, NO Peter. Just the announcement that Kiss will continue touring with animated avatars, and then let the avatars have a rip on the insipid ‘God Gave Rock n Roll To You’. Hands up if you are ready to go see virtual Kiss play AI generated material in who the fuck knows kind of venue? Anyone? Anyone? Goddamn you Hagendorf! This was NOT what you teased for a finale in everyone’s mind.
The final message the band leaves its loyal fans?
I call bullshit on the final show. All that was lacking was Johnny Rotten’s famous quote from the end of the Sex Pistol’s final tour January 1978 in San Francisco:
“Ever Get the Feeling You’ve Been Cheated?“
Amen.
full show here. You’ve been warned:
swatch commercial at 5:10
I was going to take these two quickly blocked videos down, but let’s leave them up as a monument to Kiss corporate greed, with Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons names signed to the deed. Kind of proves the point of the article. The swatch thing though? Look that one up, has to be seen to be believed
It’s been a long while since I’d seen King’s X. *checks notes… hmmm summer 1991 on the Faith Hope Love tour. Ok, that’s 32 years ago now, an impossibly long lifetime for a band of that era. At this point, rock fans have a list of stuff they know they will hear when they go to see a long lived band–a couple of new songs and then a long run through the well known (hits isn’t really the right word for King’s X stuff) songs. You have to admire the balls of a band that is (still) relatively unknown–even back in the halcyon days of the early 1990’s—who will go out in 2023 and play a good chunk of their two most recent albums. On top of that they obstinately and pointedly refused to play any songs that would be considered their bigger hits. Specifically they ignored anything from 1989’s Gretchen Goes to Nebraska, the album that broke them nationally, even internationally, and arguably from front to back is a parade of their best and most well known tunes. Likewise, the album that brought them further into the next level, Faith Hope Love, was represented by a single tune, a deep cut, and ignored the half a dozen stone cold King’s X classics contained on that 1990 lp. Even 1992’s Black Flag, their only erstwile MTV single was not in evidence. Why? First, a little background…
Somewhere in the early 1990’s, alt punk had spread into different styles. In a murky land between Primus, Living Color and perhaps some Faith no More lived King’s X. All those bands were different, cerebral and considered a cut above the noise of the late 80’s alt rock scene. Primus in particular were a bass driven band, and that isn’t too bad a reference point here. Doug Pinnock is a force on bass with a very distinctive and dominating bass sound, like Primus is instantly identifiable by Les Claypool’s quirky plucking. These bands were iconoclasts in a sea of conformists, and are still recognized as pioneers to this day. Whispers of them being a closeted Christian rock band, commercial suicide, were always denied in interviews. Their connections to Petra, one of the biggest Christian bands ever would seem to support that view, yet…the band always wrote inspirational lyrical tales that always seemed just this side of overtly Christian. (translation: probably started as a vaguely Christian band, smart enough to deny it, nobody gave a shit, they fucking rocked. Early whispers that their name was a bastardization of their first band name choice, Kin Sex also floated around in the late 80’s)
As the 90’s wore on, the band seemed to run out of ideas. The self titled album and Dogman drew the band into a sound that seemed to lack the variety of their early work. Not the one trick pony band that perhaps Helmet could be hit with (we only play one song, but its a really good one so we change the chords and the words and now it’s an album). Then a series of medical disasters: drummer Jerry Gaskill had two separate serious heart attacks over two years resulting in double bypass surgery. To help pay for the large expenses, they released a limited edition digital live album, Burning Down Boston: Live at The Channel 6.12.91, which just happened to be my first King’s X show so long ago. Pinnock then had a cancer scare which dropped the band out of action once again. Enter 2023.
Despite all of the above, the band has not lost a step. Pinnock is still in command with his distinctive treble heavy bass leading the way, their powerful harmony signature vocals cut through the air. Guitarist Ty Tabor still is the glue that holds them together. But the lack of their best songs had to be a come down for many. Even just the meltdown Moanjam would have made up for much of the missing and missed material. Songs from mid period albums Dogman, Tapehead and Ear Candy had to suffice for the die hards as ‘classic era’ material. The set was dominated by seven count ‘em seven songs from the new album Three Sides of One from 2022. The results varied. Nothing But the Truth and Give it Up could sit alongside some of their classics easily while the insipid Festival fell flat. The four encores were capped by Goldilox, where the band swung the microphones directly at the crowd, and let the audience sing the song in its entirety. It was a joyous moment, reminiscent of ….ermmmm…church…..ahem.
The crowd of about 400 fit a definite demographic: 99% 50 yr old white males who seemed moderately successful and resembled a large casting call for future Law and Order SVU characters. Looking around, I spotted a few King’s X shirts, some Living Colour, some Rush, a King Crimson…you had an idea of what drew these disparate characters into this off the beaten path venue: a devotion to some of the more ground breaking bands thirty years ago. And though we’ve all aged into late 40’s and 50’s no-longer-kids, there is still that yearning for new thrills. And though there were some duds in there, some of King’s X new material raises a high bar, something that many bands are no longer willing to attempt. It’s easy to go out and play the hits and have some spirited sing-alongs, but it is much harder to go out and willingly piss off the crowd in an attempt to show that you are still musically relevant thirty years after your heyday. And that’s something that puts this band in a different category of concert. They succeed or fail on the strength of their songs, not their reputations based on reviews long past. That in my book gives them a pass on the failing to play anything like a hit, and tip my cap to a brave and not often seen approach to rock n roll. “We play on our terms, not yours”
Maneskin-40% Muse; 50% Jane’s Addiction; 10% Pearl Jam.
So this band Maneskin-the first Italian band to headline US arenas ever, hell even play one (tho Premiata Forneria Marconi or PFM saw some undercard billings in their 75-77 attempt to crack the prog market) hit the shores for their first proper big US tour. It’s weird… though unknown to many in the States, they played back to back consecutive Julys in the ancient Circus Maximus in Rome and the Olympic Stadium to 60,000-70,000 delirious fans. People in Rome are ALL IN on this band. Here? Some shrieking bordered on Beatle-esque or Cheap Trick Budokan levels of sound. Odd for a band not yet known much here. But this weird hyper level of near hysteria in the crowd witnessed prompts the Swiftie reference. The audience was heavily 14-17 year old girls, albeit elaborately decked out in high fashion black lace tights, blouses, skirts and heavy black make up mimicking the band’s flair for haute couture glam tastes. These girls were having a grand old time like they never had before. Rockers of all ages made up the rest of this nowhere near sold out show. (Likely their record company lapped up unsold tickets to promote the opening tour MSG sellout two days before in loud headlines but ya know, create the buzz right?)
Note empty balcony
The show was a scaled up version of their early years, not too complicated or expensive for lighting, but effective. They played illuminated from behind the red curtain for a good chunk of the opener Don’t Wanna Sleep. A wall of strobes exploded as the curtain dropped and the band thrashed back and forth running in bursts across the stage. Whatever your slice of music heaven is, it’s evident that frontman Damiano David is a force to be reckoned with. He commands the stage, both stalking with intent and coyly drawing folks in one by one. This lyric from newish single Mammamia kinda sums up the vibe:
Oh, mamma mia, ma-ma-mamma mia, ah They wanna arrest me, but I was just having fun I swear that I’m not drunk and I’m not taking drugs They ask me why I’m so hot, (long pause)
‘cause I’m italiano…
Well fuck yeah! The arena exploded on that line as fans jumped in unison (calls to Jump! Jump! Jump! echoed House of Pain and Cypress Hill decades before ) but sure as shit the Garden bounced in balcony and loge as the kiddies pogoed in lock step to the clarion call.
Ziiti e Buoni, the Eurovision 2021 hit that propelled them from busking live on the streets of Rome to the biggest stage in the world came early in the set. But it’s clear that the Italian songs are starting to melt away in favor of a full set of English lyrics. It’s refreshing to hear their uncensored Zitti lyric: “Non sa di che cazzo parla ”
instead of radio ‘cosa parla’ that the videos insisted on. Crowd blissfully unaware of what any of that song said. So close yet so far…go translate it urselves. I ran across this video in a bar in Milan this summer, total crap Italo pop tv suddenly interrupted by this decidedly decadent weirdness. I thought, ‘maybe Maneskin? Nah’ But yes it was.
Some of their filler material, heavy stuff preceded the unexpected US hit Beggin’.- for some the only song they knew. A coupla songs had Ill advised awkward English intros vaguely disavowing said songs trying to seem cool- ‘we don’t listen to the man but we have to play this’ kind of shit that would be better soon retired. Gasoline, a newer song protesting the war in Ukraine was highlighted by one of the few effects: the mic stand burst into flames-hard to hear your voice when the source of communication is on fire? Powerful.
A mini break preceded a two song duet on an equally mini stage at the back of the floor of the Garden. Time Zone and If Not For You got a vague Pearl Jam wash before heading for the final run on the main stage (mirrored by their fans running full speed back and forth in the floor jockeying for front row). Aforementioned Mammamia and the run to Cool Kids were the highlight of the second set. (Cool Kids has an odd Brit accent that Damiano admitted he did drunk in the studio and ‘that accent just came out‘)
Some weird shit: Damiano twice asked the crowd to get on their knees. And to pray for….? Total power over the crowd, 2/3 of the house obeyed like wayward Catholics. It was odd early in the set, and downright weird in the second half. Taylor Swift has this power over her crowd as well, but I don’t think she’s tried to get this kind of nascent fealty on display. Yet. Maybe Ozzy should try some of this stagecraft for vindication.
Hey they ain’t really any great shakes instrumentally, but guitarist Thomas Raggi has developed nicely and creates quite a racket on a large stage, delivered with a developing ear for sophisticated riffs in the sonic maelstrom. Victoria de Angelis on bass is a fan fave, and like Tina Weymouth so long ago, coolly keeps everything grounded, even while crowd surfing(!) The real surprise is the power Damiano David has in his voice-though the band bears comparisons to Jane’s Addiction, Perry Farrell could never hold a candle to this guy in the vocal department.
Semi shocking? Most of Maneskin’s shock value in cross dressing and gender bending happened with Bowie and Alice Cooper in 1971 and Janes Addiction in the early 90’s. Most in the crowd were probably unaware that the pseudo salacious naughtiness had a history. Ah well. Get caught up in the moment kids. As a wise observer noted: ‘this is Jane’s Addiction for tweens but deep down all these kids are being exposed to metal without really realizing it.” Like Swifties, these kids aren’t throwing labels on their new gods, they just know they like it, and like it a lot. It’s just good music to them. And to those who actually saw Jane’s and the rest of the 80s and 90s kindred spirits? Maneskin proudly wears their influences in their collective sleeves. It’s likely they saw Muse pull off a huge show in Rome in July 2023 and said ‘Let’s do that vibe!’ In any event, in these dim times for rock they are a welcome breath of fresh air. They’re kinda good for 2023. And in the big picture, how can that be bad?
Ahhh, Kiss the Bootleg Series, or ‘Off the Soundboard’. Just what the world has been asking for: bootleg quality Kiss concerts in a plain brown cardboard wrapper. Openly mocked for yet another cash grab, Kiss had released three of these so far: 1996, 2007 and 1977 to the collective indifference of the rock crowd. Kiss had lost all credibility outside the aging Kiss Army fanatics, pot bellied and balding denim clad denizens pushing 60. So when volume 4 was announced for an April 2023 release, the world didn’t exactly shake. But soon some noticed that this one might be different…
This little noticed recording slipped out quietly a few weeks ago and quickly caused a stir in the ranks of Kiss-world. And it is an interesting and unheralded little gem at that, something all Kiss fans should take the time to investigate. I know, this is pretty unlikely. I mean Kiss stopped releasing listenable albums a LONG time ago. Where you stopped may vary according to listener: some stopped at 1979’s Dynasty. Nobody considered 1980’s Unmasked even a Kiss album it was so dreadful. The prog rock inflected The Elder in 1981, Creatures of the Night in 1982 and the make-up free reveal of 1983’s Lick it Up usually are the latest anyone will go.
But in late 1983, early 1984 era, heavy metal had changed and all bands needed to follow a certain formula to be taken seriously. You needed a shredder. A guy who could take a guitar and pull an Eddie Van Halen Eruption out at a moments notice. Ozzy had used this trick to reinvent himself when Randy Rhoads came on board. Dokken had George Lynch, another fretboard monster to inject some gravitas into the hair metal vibe. Kiss, always late to the trough, realized this in the wake of Vinnie Vincent’s acrimonious departure at the end of the Lick it Up tour. People were now viewing Kiss as a cartoon band that NOBODY took seriously any more, and their late 70’s heyday seemed eons ago in the murky years of early 1984. So with Eric Carr firmly ensconced in the drum seat, Gene and Paul realized that they needed to climb on board, get a serious guitarist, and be taken seriously again. Enter Mark Norton, soon renamed Mark St. John. Norton was a little known shredder with an affinity for Alan Holdsworth styled jazz fusion excursions. Probably the last guy you’d expect in Kiss. He was extremely inventive, blindingly fast and so creative he never played the same thing twice. This last characteristic is what was a problem in the paint by numbers world of Kiss songs-riffs and solos needed to be identifiable.
It is this era of Kiss that this album documents, the short period when Mark St. John, fresh off the Animalize album, went out on tour with Stanley, Carr and Simmons. Unlike today, where Kiss is thoroughly fleshed out with backing tracks and backing vocals on tape, this 1984 tour is of the era where all the sound for good or ill is produced by the four band members-mistakes can’t be hidden and there are plenty. But let’s dig a little deeper.
First off, in an effort to gain some credibility with the increasingly critical metal rock press, Kiss pumped the tempos up. And not just a tick. Somewhere in between too fast and coked up rhesus monkey is more accurate. The one two punch of Detroit Rock City and Cold Gin start too fast and then Carr audibly hits 4th gear and they tick up the tempo another 10%. We see both Paul and the Gene blowing lines left and right as things go careening along and they struggle in the mayhem to find their cues. (Cold Gin is where St. John gets unleashed for the first time, a scant couple of measures of out of control strangling soloing reined in quickly and audibly by Stanley vamping the return riff. )Stanley and Simmons, never great musicians to start with, are pushed to their absolute limits in this breakneck Nantucket sleighride of a show. They struggle to hit their vocal cues at the end of a verse it comes so quickly. They struggle to hit the first line of a chorus it comes so quickly. They fumble over words they are trying to spit out fast enough to keep up with the runaway train that is the song structure. They struggle to articulate riffs they never imagined they’d have to play this fast…and have to try to get all of the pieces somehow meshing together in some form of a regular song. To their credit, Gene and Paul show that they are up to the task, exhibiting some skills we’ve not seen before or since, but you can hear that they are often close to going off the rails things are so fast-absolutely some controlled chaos they aren’t familiar with. And it is fascinating-like watching a car crash-will it get worse? Will it land on its wheels? Each song is a white knuckled adventure.
This show has the usual Stanley inanities throughout: asking about Southern Comfort during Cold Gin, bragging about the ladies he bagged when working as a waiter outside Poughkeepsie as a teenager during Fits Like a Glove, trying to fool the crowd into singing along during Black Diamond after he stopped the song intro cold when the song was falling apart in front of him and needed to be restarted to get everyone onstage on the same page. Mark St. John careens through songs like a pinball bouncing uncontrollably off bumpers, creating delightful chaos in the carefully planned world of a Kiss concert.
You can comfortably count good Kiss songs written since 1977 on one hand, and most of them are included here: Heavens on Fire, I Love it Loud, War Machine. Even mid level stuff like Fits Like a Glove and Under the Gun benefit from jacked tempos and work well. Inexplicably, there’s only one clunker on here: the overwrought I Still Love You from Creatures of the Night slows things but only momentarily. The guitar solo listed on the cover would be worth the price of admission alone, yet somehow it’s not Mark St. John, it is Stanley’s rudimentary solo-something akin to an intermediate cello student encountering an electric guitar for the first time. It is impressive if you’ve never heard much rock n roll before and are nine, but otherwise a hard pass. In this era, Simmons was still attempting a bass solo instead of the murky bass blorts that accompany his blood puking these days. Gene plays in five second bursts that sound like he is trying to attempt some faintly recognizable Allman Brothers riffs. Carr’s solo shows he has chops that Peter Criss could never aspire to, but is hampered by the bootleg level drum quality. This soundboard is likely the monitor mix-something designed to be heard by the band onstage: heavy on vocals and rhythm guitar, light on lead guitar, drums and bass. Much of Mark St John’s fretboard burning is very quiet in the mix. By design to keep him quiet? Perhaps. Paul Stanley famously disliked Mark St. John in concert due to his inability to reproduce anything twice, and his wholesale changing of some of the more famous Kiss licks in solos, so anything is possible.
The carefully curated Kiss sound, rehearsed and choreographed to a T is nowhere in evidence here, and that is just fine. Mark St. John is barely containable and struggles to get something familiar tacked on the the end of his Holdsworth-esque excursions. Simmons is forced to test his bass playing skills in a fashion he’d never been asked to before. The vocals are raw, Gene and Paul are shouting at the top of their lungs and sound hoarse but intimidating. (Stanley pulls off David Lee Roth’s signature falsetto Yelp in two songs, a trick devestating on the vocal cords) And in the end, Paul Stanley is tasked with trying to hold it all together and make it sound like a Kiss show, with fair to middling success. And that my friends is what should make you run out and get this. They don’t make em like this any more.
Oh, and who thought an instrumental version of the traditional song Oh Susannah was a good idea?
Yah yah I know I used Holy Grail in the title of the last article re: Gong but lightning inconceivably struck twice this year at RSD kids…
Well this one was certainly a shocker. Mike Oldfield released his long known but never heard demo of Tubular Bells. What is Tubular Bells you may ask? It is an album that launched Richard Branson’s Virgin Records label back in 1973 and became one of the best selling instrumental rock albums of the era. When the main theme was chosen for the 1973 horror film the Exorcist…well fame was assured. It stayed in British charts for a year and hit number three in America, not bad for a creepy instrumental prog rock album where the barely 20 year old musician played all of the instruments. But how he got to that point? That is what this album is about.
The album that changed everything
The sequel, 20 years later
Tubular Bells III, the law of diminishing returns is evident
Mike Oldfield had been working on proto-Tubular Bells for quite a while as a teenager starting in 1971, bouncing tracks down to create a multi layered multi track demo with a two track reel to reel, no mean feat. He’d carry the tape around and work on it when he could in between band sessions (he was bass player in Kevin Ayer’s Whole World at this point). It contained a few songs and one longer piece. The tape was shown to Richard Branson as a prospective new release for his new label. Unfortunately, the excessive overdubs, razoring sections of tape together and varying recording venues meant that the demo was spotty audio wise and deemed unusable and had to be recreated from scratch in a proper studio. John Cale leaving tubular bells behind in the studio was the happy accident and inspiration to add a grand theme to the record. (aside: sadly, Mike couldn’t get the sound he wanted out of the tubular bells with any mallet until he used a metal hammer and a mighty swing to push the bells to their limit-they actually cracked as a result, but their death throes are recorded for posterity)
The big one was Opus One, later known as Tubular Bells Part 1. On this limited edition release (1,500 copies one time only pressing) we get the full legendary demo tape for Tubular Bells. Much written about but rarely heard, this is the piece that started it all. Surprisingly, Opus One matches up very closely with Tubular Bells part one. Being a much worked on demo tape, there is creaking, hissing, electric zaps, and full drop outs of sound. Warts and all indeed. But it is brilliant-a new and vibrant version that has a level of excitement that must have been palpable upon first hearing. Side two contains two versions of Caveman, which ended up as part of the second side of the Tubular Bells lp. Two semi untitled songs (Peace A and Peace B) round out side two. It is surprising how much Oldfield got out of a couple of guitars, a bass and a Farfisa organ here. Later in a proper studio, a pantheon of instruments make an appearance to flesh out this piece in a grandiose near orchestral rock n roll masterpiece. This sketchpad version is remarkably entertaining peek into the process of creating said masterpiece.
If you are an Oldfield fan, you cannot let this one get away. Only 1,500 copies and no repress means this is already in demand. There’s still some copies out there in the $40 range, but you can be sure that will go up as the summer goes on–no one is likely to part with this. How this was not part of RSD in America, I don’t know. I had to order one from France to make sure I got one before they evaporated. Some audiophiles might turn their nose up at the wavering quality of the recording, but Oldfield fans who have been wondering nigh on five decades about the long lost demo recording, something that was passing from myth to legend, you should jump right now. You won’t be sorry.
Yah yah I know, Gong has released a ton of RSD stuff in the past, with very little of it unheard even if you are just a dabbler in the Pot Head Pixie Planet Gong mythos. This one probably flew under everyone’s radar-who honestly needs some more unreleased Gong?
You do.
Most people I know were not interested in the least in this album. But let me be clear-this is no ‘what’s left in the vault, throw it out on vinyl’ kind of release. This is an earthshaking never before heard piece of Gong history that is flat out amazing. Essential? Let’s try to answer that question.
First up: the cover. Intriguing that it reproduces the cover of part one of Gong’s mind bending space rock trilogy, Flying Teapot. When Flying Teapot came out in early 1973 on Richard Branson’s newly minted Virgin label, it made a strong statement. Now there was a French space rock band getting international exposure. (Virgin’s debut release was Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, released the same day as Flying Teapot) Gong was now trodding the same floorboards as Pink Floyd, Hawkwind and new label mates Tangerine Dream as leaders in the new ‘space rock’ scene. The nod to Flying Teapot was the first hint this one was different. Second intriguing notice, it’s a triple album. Most Gong live releases fit easily on 2 lps. Is there some stuff we haven’t heard?
Then there’s the lineup. In true Gong fashion, despite what you may read on line, there’s no definitive agreement on who is on this show. This was originally released as a cassette in a limited edition mail order version from GAS, the Gong Appreciation Society. These furry freaks kept the Gong flag flying into the 90’s with newsletters and shirts and occasional cassette releases of rare material. All very lo-fi. Original notes on the first cassette give no idea as to who is playing. Later releases vary: Pip Pyle or Laurie Allan on drums? Francis Moze, Christian Tritsch on bass? Steve Hillage or Christian Tritsch on guitar? There’s an unknown vocalist and a guest trumpeter in there too. The only certainty was Daevid Allen, Gilli Smyth, Didier Malherbe and Tim Blake are definitely there. The album says that it is Laurie Allen, Daevid, Bloomdido, Tim Blake, Francis Moze, Steve Hillage, Christian Tritsch. Let’s look deeper.
The classic line up as it were-Hillage, Bloomdido, Daevid Allen, Tim Blake, Pierre Moerlen, Gilli Smyth, Mike Howlett
The early 1972 version with Christian Tritsch on guitar still
It is the time period when this was recorded that makes this such an essential release-the transition from Camembert Electrique to the classic Flying Teapot, an era not ever documented before. This time period also has the same ‘who’s playing today’ lineup. Gong had a notoriously fluid line up. For example, check out the rotating list of Gong drummers from late 1971 til 1975:
Rachid Houari
Pip Pyle (Khan, Hatfield and the North)
Laurie Allan (Delivery)
Mac Poole
Charles Hayward(This Heat, Quiet Sun, Crass(!), Massacre)
Rob Tait
Pierre Moerlen
Rachid Houari
Laurie Allan
Rob Tait
Pierre Moerlen
Chris Cutler (Henry Cow)
Bill Bruford (Yes, King Crimson, Genesis)
Pierre Moerlen
Brian Davison (the Nice)
Pierre Moerlen
whew! Got it?
Gong, like Hawkwind, had a fairly fluid lineup, and you were never sure who was going to show up on any given night. Likewise, on this album there are definitely two uncredited musicians. One is a trumpeter who on two songs doubles the melody line played by Bloomdido on flute, so it’s definitely a second person. The second unknown addition is a vocalist who sounds very very much like the distinct vocals of Kevin Ayers. Ayers and Daevid Allen went back to the early days of Gong, so they were familiar with each other. Less known is that Ayers introduced Steve Hillage to Gong in late 1972 in France, thinking that his then current touring guitarist in the Ayers band would be perfect for a gig in Gong. And they were on tour in France at the time. With this show in France in late 1972, well….you can pretty much take it to the bank that Kevin Ayers is on stage. Who the trumpeter is will probably remain a mystery. (faintly, you can barely hear Hi T Moonweed get introduced as trumpet in band introductions, so the mystery may be solved, Hi T = Tim Blake)
Less clear is what if any part Steve Hillage plays on this recording. Upon first listen, there seems to be no trace of him-all guitar work seems to come from Daevid Allen on trademark gliss guitar and Christian Tritsch. Only once is there a hint of Hillage’s very recognizable guitar lead and melody phrasing. So he is there, but not on all songs-perhaps this is literally his first introduction to the band, and he picked his spots as to what songs he would play on. Tritsch seems to do much of the heavy carrying, and his identifiable primal lead guitar stylings adorn most of the songs. Gong members were notorious for bad memories due to the voluminous intake of hash, weed, mushrooms and acid that were the staple of their weekly diet, so only Hillage knows whether this was his first show with Gong. Perhaps not even he remembers. Let’s press on.
What sets this apart from any other Gong release is the material. Most live Gong releases are very samey, the songlist didn’t vary much from what was on the Trilogy. But here, not all of Flying Teapot was written yet. Snippets of future songs dart in and out (Tropical Fish is one). It is the unreleased or rarely played songs that make this thing a must have for Gong fans. Why Are We Sleeping, a track from the Kevin Ayers Soft Machine era leads into an unlisted Fohat Digs Holes in Space. Maybe You Believe It is part of the Trilogy mythos, but has never been heard before, as is I Gotta Donkey, both unlisted. It’s The Time Of Your Life and an untitled instrumental are another two songs never heard. Blues For Findlay from Continental Circus played by the Trilogy crew is also rarely if ever heard. Add in I Feel So Lazy and we are headed to well over 30 minutes of completely brand new Gong material. Fans of Magma will enjoy Francis Moze earthquake bottom on bass, quite different than Mike Howlett.
From the opening freak out introduction tape montage that opened most shows to the final notes of the Teapot Jam, this is one wild ride, and very unlike anything anyone has heard before. Add in approximately 45 minutes of material that nobody has ever heard, and include some songs written for the Flying Teapot album but never used? You have an album that EVERY Gong fan should immediately go out and get. And since the made only 1500 of these, you need to act now.
note: this piece has been delayed sooo many times due to important rock personages kicking the bucket. But carwreckdebangs wasn’t designed to be an obituary machine, no matter what
The concert scene took a huge hit due to Covid. Shows paused in March 2020 for a year and a half. Early summer 2021 shows were low in attendance, some for seating restrictions, some for shows that people were just to scarred from the Covid experience to consider actually buying a ticket to. The banner concert year of 2019 as chronicled hereand here seemed like a long ago memory. But 2022 had some surprises in store.
Note: when there are posted links to longer reviews, they are all carwreckdebangs reviews from earlier on this site.
Martin Barre’s Jethro Tull Academy of Music Northampton February 4
This was the venue that hosted the last area show before Covid hit in March 2020, Steve Hackett. Two years later, crowds were still a bit wary of gathering in groups at this not quite sold out show. Barre had rolled through town in 2019 with two genuine former Tull members in tow, drummer Clive Bunker and keyboardist Dave (now Dee) Palmer. That’d be three Tull members compared to Ian Anderson’s one, him. With Ian Anderson clinging to the brand name of Tull populated by a revolving cast of pliant hired hands, Barre is a genuine Jethro Tull experience for fans who’d been through the long years of watching Anderson dismantle the legacy, chronicledhere.This time around, Palmer sat out, but the 50th anniversary of Aqualung, Tull’s tour-de-force, marked a joyous evening for fans. The two sets, setlist here, displayed all of Aqualung in several chunks, with a large amount of deep cuts interspersed. If any Tull fans out there haven’t caught this act yet, let me assure you, it is a more authentic experience than the ‘real thing’. More Tull than Tull. My god.
Nope, not August 22, that one got scotched by the band getting Covid. Or was it a deluge of biblical proportions? Two shows had already gone under for those reasons in humble Hartford. This show had been rescheduled not once, but twice before this date. Fan expectations varied from chomping at the bit to ‘do I really have to go to this?’ But since this was the ‘make up’ leg of the tour-all the canceled shows from the previous year got lumped into one hopscotch skip across several unconnected regions. Hartford was the last gig of the farewell tour in the Northeast and drew fans from Maine to NYC to Pennsylvania. Fans came out in their finest tailored and makeup tributes to demon, spaceman, starchild and kitty cat. The fact that two guys they’ve never heard of were in Peter Criss and Ace Frehley’s costumes and make up didn’t seem to matter much. The band delivered one of their best and tightest sets in a looooooong while, and genuinely seemed enthusiastic. But of late they have been hampered by accusations of tapes playing underneath the vocals to keep things ‘professional’. It was two weeks later in Belgium that they got caught, during Detroit Rock City:
Oh well. This show is chronicled in more detail here
The Who Boston Garden May 18
These two nearly had a fistfight on stage ten years ago. Seriously
The founders of rock n roll? Along with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, the Who have lived through and seen with their own eyes the full panoply of rock n roll. From the late 50’s when they started their musical career to the nearly inconceivable 2022 date of this show, the Who have been a touring band for close to 60 years, and seen every part of rock n roll from invention to the now apparent near demise as an art form. I remember when Black Sabbath and Yes had their tenth anniversary in 1979, and both bands were incredulous they were still alive. Ten years was a frighteningly long time for a band to be together, very few made it that far. The Who had been alive for about 15 years in 1979, or just under half of their lives at that point. NOBODY could conceive a rock band having a shelf life like this…fifty years? Sixty years?
With Orchestra
So, how was it? The Who had decided to bring an orchestra on stage to flesh out Tommy, a six song mini suite to open the show. The flourishes from the extra players were tasteful and didn’t get in the way. Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey were more restrained on this tour, but you have to give them some leeway as they clock in at 77 and 78 years old respectively (it was Townshend’s birthday). One must remember that the Who are a fairly vigorous live experience and the songs, chords, screams, feedback, windmills, microphone swings…well they aren’t in the realm of near octogenarians are they? Most 78 year old grandfathers struggle to get out of the recliner, they don’t windmill their right arm to flail onto a crashing chord nor do they release screams from the depths of the soul that can bring a teenage wasteland to a halt. These guys still can. The set varied from the expected to the surprising: Ball and Chain from their newest 2019 album has been in the set for three years now. The set finished with the orchestra returning for a five song mini set from Quadrophenia and Baba O’Reilly, culminating with Daltrey leading the crowd in singing Happy Birthday to Pete. He was curmudgeonly smiling. I’d seen better, I’d seen worse from them (this was maybe my 17th Who show dating back to Entwistle era 1996 tour. But remember that a fair to middling show by the Who is head and shoulders better than 99% of what is out there today trying to pass as ‘alt post rock’ rock n roll. No shit. Setlist here.
Kraftwerk Mass MOCA North Adams MA June 10
We are the ….ummm…Robots
Kraftwerk in concert can be a puzzling experience. Are they really playing? Are they robots? Are their synths plugged in? But to see them in a huge modern art museum was a can’t miss event. Tickets had sold out early, but good ol stubhub provided cheap seats the week of the show. This show was billed as the 3D tour, and 3D glasses were provided. Depending on where you stood in the large unseated hangar, the effect was either awe inspiring and hallucinogenic, or temporally disturbing and vertigo inducing. I stood in the middle ground-some effects made you feel that the ground had dropped out beneath you, others kind of fizzled into an effect similar to what bad CGI can trigger.
Is the band controlling the visuals or the visuals controlling the band
The quartet, three musicians and the light guy at four identical synth stations were the epitome of anonymity. founding member Florian Schneider had passed away six weeks before this show, but hadn’t toured with the band in well over a decade. The anonymity used in their presentation would lead one to believe that anyone could be onstage.
up close and personal
Cool in the sense of standoffish, clinical and precise, Kraftwerk still capture the monotony of modern life, the lack of human contact and emotion that is becoming more and more prevalent in the society of a roomful of people buried in their cellphones, oblivious to the world. This is the soundtrack to the end of civilization. Quite a nice one at that too. Setlist here
full show:
Premiata Forneria Marconi, Mirano Summer Festival Mirano Italy July 15
Yup, PFM, the prog rock gods of Italian music, still blowing minds in 2022. I’d ventured to Italy to see them in 2019 in the square of the small fortified hill town of Cortona (made famous in the film Under the Tuscan Sun). It was beyond words to see legends like this in their home country. They could still play their material at breakneck speed, and still have a very large core following that travel to see multiple shows. Record companies tried to break them over in America; PFM put out six albums from 1973 to 1978 in the States, while their Italian LP output traverses the period from 1971 until present day…51 years and 27+ albums. Back in the day, they were fairly unknown outside of kids heavily into obscure prog. Today? Very few in America are aware this band is still kicking it onstage, now mostly limited to Italian only tours.
Mirano is tucked in the northern part of Italy just outside of Venice, and hosted a month long music festival: regional Italian Eurovision finalists rubbed elbows with tribute bands: U2, Rammstein, Pink Floyd and Maneskin all saw ersatz action. But the crown jewel in the summer festival was certainly PFM. The crowd, about 1,200 in size filled the outdoor venue. Gentle Giant shirts dotted the crowd: “Finally, these are your people”. Rome, Milan, Florence, Naples, you can get by speaking English. This far north, very few to no one speaks English, so a rudimentary knowledge of Italian is a necessity.
Before and after
From the journal:
The festival was 200 m from our hotel, perfect. Beerhall seating outside for food and pints of beer before. Guy in a Gentle Giant Octopus shirt next to me, about 55 years old. Girlfriend said, well these finally are your people. We went in, they had a merchandise stand, Shirts were 15 euro (about $15 exactly at the time), and canvas record tote bags were 5 euro, quite different from States pricing. Looked for seats, posto 89 and 90, second to last row in back. Hmmm. After a few songs I commented ‘there were supposed to be a lot of rows behind us’. I realize I am in wrong section, but should be in seats 89-90 in section A, 13th row. We move but people are in our seats on the aisle. We sit on the far left same row. They opened with two or three songs from the new album, I Dreamed of Electric Sheep, much better live than on lp-heavy instrumental stuff. Djivas did a very long speech on classical music before they did what I thought was NIght on Bare Mountain, very powerful. New Trolls did that as a single maybe? (note: it was actually Danza dei Cavalieri by Prokoviev) Some Photos of Ghosts stuff-Impressions of September, Dove Quando, La Carozza di Hans. Then it seemed that Celebration or E Festa (their Freebird or Roundabout signature encore tune moment) came way too quickly, no introduction tease, they just jumped in. Even my girlfriend said ‘they are playing Celebration now? It’s already over??’ By now we have already spotted second row side is empty, and front row is shortened, so once again we have ended up front row unobstructed view of the band. Amazing. The crowd chants for Maestro della Voce and Il Pescatore. The band whips into the catchy fast Fabrizio DeAndre song, Volta la carta I think. The crowd sings along in unison after being quiet all night. We move with twenty or so others to dance in front of the stage. Last time Cortona 2019, this song was unknown to me, but now is a frequent rotation piece at home. As the only Americans in the crowd, finally this time I’m with the crowd yelling HEY! out loud with everyone in the chorus. This brings us to Il Pescatore, something we now listen to a lot. They start it and girlfriend jumps in the air and starts twirling dancing with hands in the air and singing, something she NEVER does, and we go to tons of shows per year. Again, this was a mystery to me in 2019 how everyone knew the call and responses in unison, but now we know 😉 They finish, I manage to get into the band photo of the crowd somehow again. Similar size crowd as Cortona, 1,000 -1,500 maybe? Lucio Fabbri is still amazing on violin, been there since 1979, founder Franz DiCoccio is a frontman extraordinaire, and still one of the top drummers in all of prog. Patrick Djivas is solid and jazzy, thunderous and delicate at the same time (I hadn’t realized he was on the first Area lp when I met him in 2019 backstage, dumb) but he needed a chair to lean on once in a while. The singer/keyboardist/guitarist Scaglione who I heard is joining a prog super group I’d not heard of is a tour de force and somehow holds the band’s sound together. Sfogli is impressive on guitar, and I enjoy the metal edge he can bring. Overall they were not quite as good as Cortona three years ago but still amazing. To get to see this in their own back yard and be the only Americans (or Brits for that matter) there is a feeling you can’t get in the States. Overall, it is amazing that I get to see PFM twice in Italy, nobody I’ve ever met in my life has ever seen PFM in Italy over here. I filmed Volta la carta/Pescatore from the front row and it came out pretty good, so let’s relive 9 minutes of the fun! Setlist here
a Fabrizio DeAndre tune to wind things up
a little something from Photos of Ghosts
Elton John Foxboro MA July 28
Back to the States. Though jet lagged, I felt that since I’d missed Elton every time he’d come through town (was too young when he was still cool and by the time I was concert age, he was on the downward slide into cheesiness and coke oblivion) I felt I had to go. He’d canceled a few Boston dates already – covid, injury, both? The first night of Foxboro had some seats on stubhub that were below cost, half price really. So I jumped into the car and headed back to the area I’d just disembarked from for a summer evening under the stars.
Sir Elton in a football stadium. Ok. The Goodbye to the Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and Goodbye to Elton tour rolled through the Boston area after a lot of anticipation. This is Elton’s last hurrah and he’s never touring again. (Seems like this has happened a lot lately: King Crimson and Genesis the most recent examples) The setlist leaned towards the 70’s classic material, and the stage set was noticeably stripped of glitz and Vegas styled effects, indicating that the music was what we were here for, band and audience alike. The crowd was duly decked out in feather boas and sequins, leaving a trail from the parking lot to the stadium in multi colored feathers. The sound in a football stadium can trend towards awful, but the sound system Elton had was crystalline in definition, and could shake the pillars of the structure with the bass. Very surprising in clarity, power and definition. From the opener, Bennie and the Jets, to the closer Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Elton was in top form. The show is reviewed in more detail here
The setlist was built to please the old school fans a bit more than one would predict, but it was strange: the deep cuts couldn’t hide that only 5 songs were played from the Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the tour’s namesake. Overall it was surprisingly good, far better and tighter than I’d expected. When word got out how good this show was, ticket prices for the second night skyrocketed, from half price or about 90 bucks night one to $50 over face or over 250.00 for the exact same middle bowl seats for night two. Sometimes you roll the dice and luck out. Setlist here
Elvis Costello and the Foxwoods Casino, CT August 13
I’d seen Elvis a few times back in the day, including once in pouring rain at Glastonbury Festival 1984. His irritably endearing act has softened over the years, and he has a familiar easiness in his delivery these days. There was a show scheduled a few days later in a forest pavilion in Northampton with Nick Lowe opening, but tix for that sold out early and were rising on stubhub. There were a few cheapies for this show online, and middle of the floor center were available for 25 bucks, so no Nick Lowe on the bill but tickets were about $100 cheaper than Northampton.
On every Elvis tour, one runs the risk of seeing a large run of ‘whatever the new album is’ peppering the setlist. The poster (above) for this show didn’t give me confidence, but the few dips into new material were pretty solid, and the setlist had everything one would want. Elvis is a master storyteller, and he told tales going back far into the past, including the tale of losing his virginity (!) Things started to really pick up during (I Don’t Want to Go To) Chelsea, and then the final run to the end peaked at Pump it Up. ‘My only ballad from back in the day’ finished up, the radio staple, Alison. Overall, a laid back take on the angry young man. Well not so young anymore, right? Setlist here
Elvis at Foxwoods
Heilung Palladium Worcester MA September 8
From the depths of the Teutonic forests from several millenia ago hails the decidedly different band Heilung. Even using the word band is a bit of a stretch. This outfit is closer to a live performance of a 3500 year old forest ritual designed to do….well that part is mostly secreted away in the mists of time. No conventional electric rock instruments are involved: no drums, no bass, no guitar, no keyboards. Only vocals, huge drums, hand drums, bone rattles, chanting, sticks strung as one or two string cello like drones. It sounds primitive (it is) and despite that, the sound is full and effective. And creepy as all hell. They came onto the scene quickly, doing a 2021 US tour that was a single show at Red Rocks that gathered the deep forest pagan tribes from coast to coast. This full tour sold out pretty much instantly back in November 2021, nearly a year before the show. That should tell you something. They have to be seen to be believed. Were there songs, was this a ritual? Not sure. This show was reviewed in more detailhere Setlist?? here
the Ritual
Yung Gravy Big E West Springfield September 16
Sometimes you see a show that leaves you speechless. Usually because it is so amazing that words cannot describe it easily. This was not one of those shows.
Like many fairs, the talent is on many levels. There are often two stages, the free one that everyone who paid to get into the fair can see and then the paid venue which costs extra $$ to see if you want to get into the area. Yung Gravy was booked into the free arena, and easily could have sold out the paid concert venue. The pavilion was packed to overflowing, with kids literally hanging from the trees on either side, trying for a glimpse. But of what exactly?
People got down on rap early in the game-guys spitting out poetry over someone else’s record playing underneath while a cheap drum machine thumps a beat in the background? In the 80’s many musicians were disdainful. These guys weren’t playing any instruments. I mean people were literally playing an album of already recorded music, not their own creation. And taking credit for it. Now, nearly forty years later, rap has evolved, progressed and in some cases, devolved. Here begins the tale.
Yung Gravy came out of nowhere in 2016 as a charismatic and semi-catatonic white rapper. His style combines stealing a bit of well known soul music and R and B tunes, add a drum machine, while mumbling on top of the whole thing. Trap music, based heavily on an 808 drum machine (expensive and in demand vintage gear today, piece of cheesy low end crap when originally issued in mid 80’s-I know, I had one) was popularized in the South in the mid aughts, starting to go national around 2010. You rap about the G-life on top of a drum machine while a record plays in the background and your posse mills around aimlessly on stage. (At this point I am reminded of critics who fileted Grand Funk Railroad in 1970 for being the worst talentless hacks in rock n roll while that band sold out Madison Square Garden for three consecutive nights-there’s no accounting for taste) Today, Grand Funk would seem like the Vienna Philharmonic in terms of creativity compared with YG. I thought it was godawful and talentless. The kids around me were in heaven. Below is a clip of one of his more famous pieces, Betty-a good representation of what he’s about: a little off key singing, insert random cover tune for a few seconds, a little shitty rap, lots of help from the posse and the crowd. Setlist here
Betty (get the money)
Lynyrd Skynyrd Big E West Springfield October 2
Shifting gears, when you think about rock bands at county fairs, these guys are usually the first thing to come to mind. Back in the day I’d had tickets to the Fall 1977 tour that some big kids had bought a huge block of, and was promised one. Note $7.50 and $6.50 pricing below! Skynyrd inconsiderately crashed their airplane, killed the lead singer, lead guitarist and back up singer and canceled touring for a long while, but more importantly, canceling my show.
Didn’t happen
Fast forward to 45 years later, and I finally got a chance to see the band. Now if there is a snakebit band in rock, it has to be these guys. Allen Collins and Gary Rossington nearly killed themselves in separate car accidents in 1976, pooching a tour. (Rossington’s collision with an oak tree being the inspiration for That Smell). In addition to the three band members that died in the plane crash in 1977, four core members: Allen Collins, Billy Powell, Leon Wilkenson and Ed King died between 1990 and 2018. Four other members have also died in that time period. That is a staggering ELEVEN band members dead. (note: since this article was written, the last founding member still in the band, guitarist Gary Rossington, passed away in March 2023, we are now up to TWELVE(!)). Someone keep an eye on peak era drummer Artimus Pyle please.
The band with former lead singer Ronnie Van Zandt’s brother Johnny fronting the show, the band has restored some form of normalcy to their touring group. Ronnie was considered irreplaceable, but Johnny does him proud, singing lead onstage since 1987. Founding member Ricky Medlocke from the 1971 era band had quit before fame struck is now back in on lead guitar. Founder Gary Rossington held court center stage and churned out the guitar riffs that along with the Allman Brothers, are the sounds of southern rock. Freebird, Tuesday’s Gone, Simple Man, Sweet Home Alabama…anyone with a cursory knowledge of 70’s rock could predict about 75% of the setlist. Sure they’ve been touring forever, but they held their own on a slightly chilly evening in the outdoor arena, and it was a guitar players dream. Competent and solid, the crowd ate up the southern tinged hard rock delivered by the remnants of a seminal band, the soundtrack of the 70’s lives on still. Glad I saw them while there’s still an original member in the band! Setlist here
Note: little did I know at the time that there would be only 8 or 9 more Skynyrd shows ever with Rossington. This show was the end of the tour, and they did some scattered shows up until his death. My timing was excellent on this one.
Here’s a good chunk of the show, ambience included:
Blackmore’s Night Academy of Music Northampton MA October 28
Lute solo!
Ok, these guys are an experience. To see rock guitarist Ritchie Blackmore since he left Deep Purple (quit? was tossed out?) you’d have only Rainbow to fall back on. But they haven’t toured since 2019. So if you need a Ritchie Blackmore fix, Blackmore’s Night is your only recourse. But wait…
Good sir, may I tempt thee with a flagon of ale?
Blackmore’s Night is an all acoustic Renaissance Faire styled medieval band that keeps Blackmore pretty much in the background of each show. He doesn’t even have a microphone to interact with the crowd. That part is taken care of by lead singer and wife, Candice Night. A powerful vocalist and equally powerful stage presence, she hosts the evening like a banquet hall queen from five centuries ago. The sound? Well oddly the 70’s band Renaissance is the strongest touchpoint with a little Fairport Convention, Steeleye Span and some Mike Oldfield thrown in to boot. I’d seen them once a few years ago and was warned that people come in Renaissance fair costumes and dance in front of the stage merrily. Well, they did. The place was packed with wanna be minstrels, jesters, maidens and wenches. All pushing 50+ in age.
Tonight was opening night of the tour, the band was loose and ready and Candice was in good form. The highlight of these shows is the banter (usually one way) between Candice and Ritchie. A couple of songs in, Ritchie starts noodling in a new key…
Candice: “oh good, we rehearse 60 songs for this tour, it’s opening night and three songs into the set you’re already going off menu?”
Candice: “well folks believe it or not, but this is our 25th anniversary as a band. When the band started, I was 3 and Ritchie was 55”
Candice notices Ritchie returning to the stage after a bit with a second refill of a large amber liquid in a mug. Ale? Whiskey? Couldn’t tell but I’d guess the latter. She eyes the mug warily, prompting this exchange:
Candice: “oh good, you’re back! Hmmmm, do you think that will make this evening more coherent or less coherent?”
Ritchie nodded silently and gulped.
Candice and the keyboardist musical director are staring at Blackmore. Ritchie plays an intricate acoustic theme:
Candice: “I know that we change keys cuz I can’t hit all the high notes anymore, but what is that? Ritchie comes up the neck and repeats the pattern. Keyboardist: “nope that’s not it” Ritchie comes up two frets and tries again. Candice: ‘Third times the charm!”
After the song:
Ritchie to keyboardist: ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
Keyboardist: “Because I honestly have no idea what’s going on right now”
This night was the day that Jerry Lee Lewis passed away. This prompted Blackmore to ask for a microphone to be set near him so he could tell some Jerry Lee stories:
Ritchie: “Jerry Lee Lewis, a legend. I knew him. I was in his touring band when he came to the UK in the mid sixties. He said something big to me once when I was in his band…(pauses)…’Who are you?’
he continues:
“then after that, there’s another tale. But nope, I gotta go to the bathroom…”
comes back: Jerry Lee said ‘Boy’ -yes he called me boy-You’re coming back to Memphis with me. You’re my new guitarist! I said wellllll I got some stuff going on here, so no. BOY ARE YOU SAYING NO TO JERRY LEE?!?
Again, Ritchie rarely talks at shows. The band readies a tune. Candice tells a story about rewriting a Strawbs song with new lyrics, but they had to ask that band to listen and give approval and permission for a re-recording of it.
Candice: and do you remember Ritchie what John from the Strawbs said when he heard our version? Ritchie: ‘he said fuck off’ Candice: ‘noooooo he didn’t, he loved it?’ Ritchie: ‘Yahhhh he did, right.” Candice: ‘folks, there’s a window into what my life is like’
Candice readies the next song. Looks left. Ritchie is gone. Again. She looks behind to find him settling his stool in the relative darkness near the drum area.
Candice: ‘what ARE you doing?
Ritchie: ‘it was too bright over there. I need it darker.’
Candice: ‘you’ve always lived in the darkness, Richie‘
That quote really nails it. Though he has always trended towards ‘prickly’ and ‘just plain prick, more of an asshole’ Blackmore still stands as one of the last legendary guitarists of the late 60’s fame. Up there with Hendrix, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton….the guys who re-invented electric guitar as an art form. Guys who made people like Eddie Van Halen start playing guitar in the first place. And believe it or not, he’s now a generally congenial guy onstage, absorbing endless ribbing from Candice.
The show featured some covers as is always does, with Diamonds and Rust (the Joan Baez not the Judas Priest version), Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac, and an obscure chestnut, Soldier of Fortune from Deep Purple’s relatively unknown Stormbringer lp. That was perhaps the highlight of the evening. Other times they will throw out a Renaissance or Mike Oldfield cover as well. If you haven’t gone to see this band, definitely go once. It’s a spectacle. Setlist here
Not Northampton but pretty close to what you’d see
First time seeing them buried deeply in this long summer wrap review here
‘
Dinosaur Jr Race Street Holyoke MA November 23
This was a semi secret warm up show for the winter tour. Smallish concrete box with nowhere to sit. I’d seen Dinosaur Jr many times over the years, and perhaps know ahead of time what to expect: blisteringly loud guitar, throbbing bass and artillery like percussion from J, Lou and Murph. They always deliver and I think I know what I will see. And then….
Sometimes things are so omnipresent, just around you every day year after year that you take it for granted. It’s just there. You don’t appreciate it like you should. Then one day something happens and you perk up to notice and say “Holy Shit that was good!” This is the tale of Dinosaur Jr.
I have to say I’d thought they would phone this one in, home show, warm up really. But Dinosaur ripped the roof off of the building, reached in and fucked with the crowd menacingly. I have never seen Murph so precise in his drumming, so articulated and powerful (including his freewheeling style gigs with space rock band Architectural Metaphor). Lou Barlow was a man unhinged, thrashing about the stage like he was a twentysomething fledgling bass player about to make a legend for himself. No signs of the subtleness of his lofi side project Sebadoh. Picture Geezer Butler on speed attacking his Rickenbacker in Lemmy fashion. Then multiply that by three. Overheard in crowd “what the hell is Lou on tonight? I want some” J Mascis was the calm (?) in the storm, standing stoically trading guitars, thrashing guitars, stomping on the pedal board coaxing ear blistering solo after ear blistering solo out like random molten bits of an erupting volcano spewing and landing around you. Do you want to avoid being hit or look forward to being hit? Yes they were that good. It defies logic that this band is peaking musically in this fashion thirty years after their commercial peak of Where You Been? Outstanding evening. I’m pissed I didn’t go the next night two nights later. Setlist here
So that’s the wrap of the year in concerts. Lots of travel, some amazing shows. And with the passing of so many rock stars of the 1965-1979 era, you should take my advice: Get out there NOW!
David Crosby-raconteur and denizen of golden throated harmonies was an enigma in the rock world. A very vocal peace and anti establishment figurehead. A famous advocate of guns (who’d shoot them off with little provocation in public), a more famous connoisseur of heroin and cocaine (he’d had a bowl of coke available for guests on his coffee table most days), usually pudgy and nude surrounded by groupies at most gatherings-the word hedonism could have his photo in the dictionary as a definition. Not all that talented as a guitarist (he quickly was removed as bassist in the Byrds for being unable to play along with the drums), not well known as a song writer (he demanded writing credit for the Byrd’s signature 8 Miles High despite only contributing a single line to the lyrics), famously cantankerous, David Crosby cruised through life like the rules were not made for him. But his passing in January 2023 was still felt keenly by folk rockers and fans of his most famous band, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young across the world. Just what made this guy who he was is still shrouded in tales and legends that obscure, exaggerate and confuse most rock scholars. One thing is for certain, he grabbed for the brass ring of success early and held on for dear life.
Am I the only one who tunes?
Byrds
Crosby got his start in the folk rock band, the Byrds. The Byrds were an early 1964 amalgam of folk musicians and early boy band ‘who cares if you can play if you look the part’ vibes. (Oddly this same crew mixed with the Monkees, used the same backing musicians, yet the Byrds were ‘real’ and the Monkees ‘fake boy band’. Hmmm. Steven Stills later auditioned as a Monkee but was beaten out by Peter Tork who had better teeth) Roger (then Jim) McGuinn put some Beatles into his folk rock and decided to get hip. With Gene Clark in tow, McGuinn and Clark decided that despite Dylan’s rising star in New York, the Beatles and the British wave were to be the future. So they ditched their band name, and similarly misspelled their band name in tribute to the Beatles and proceeded to try to take the West Coast scene by storm. It didn’t work. David Crosby came along and added harmonies, and Michael Clark came on as….well he didn’t really play anything but looked cool. So he was the drummer, a drummer banging on boxes and tambourines with his only skill really being informally on bongos and congas. As mentioned, Crosby was given the bassist job but quickly flamed out. Chris Hillman, a bluegrass mandolin player was give the bass and a week to learn it. So the fledgling Byrds went out and had few things going musically other than slick harmonies and McGuinn’s jangling 12 string electric guitar. Fans of the early albums were unaware that the record was all studio musicians holding down the fort while the Byrds sang on top and pretended to play. Their early real concerts in LA were disastrous as they couldn’t reproduce their songs onstage. Fans noticed. But they had an ace in the hole. Vito and his Freaks…..
Vito and his Freakers
Vito Paulekis was perhaps the first actual California hippie back in the late 1964 early 1965 era. He pioneered the hippie fashion of throwing together clothes designs from scraps of bygone eras, multi sources of influences to create an aura of weird, drawing artists, iconoclasts and just plain epically strange people into his orbit. Early dabblers in LSD, Vito and his dance troupe would show up at clubs and whirl spastically in the center of the dance floor-spasming semi rhythmically to the over amplified music and usually the center of attention. The GTO’s were early members of his group before Frank Zappa laid his mitts on them. Sunset Strip denizens noted that many a Byrds show was saved by Vito and his girls, taking the attention off the wavering time signatures and spotty tunings going on the stage. The band merely turned up the amps to rattle your teeth volume, and a synesthetic visual and musical effect was created. People started to dig the Byrds. The Byrds were credited with inventing folk rock, psychedelic rock and country rock in that order, perhaps not necessarily deserving it but with Columbia Records at their back and the LA music press running interference, no one was the wiser.
Trio? Solo Act?
Crosby, Stills and Nash: the Frozen Noses
Perhaps the most famous iteration of Crosby’s career was the seminal (at the time) self titled super group, Crosby Stills and Nash. Pulling together elements of the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and the Hollies, CSN were among the first super groups, perhaps the first as they predated Blind Faith by over six months. Crosby had been asked by the band to leave the Byrds in late 1967, Stills had broken up Buffalo Springfield in 1968 and Nash had left the Hollies at the end of 1968 and relocated from the UK to Los Angeles. How these three met up and decided to start a band is a bit mysterious (see below), but they were known for their harmonizing, creating crystalline vocal melodies in a fashion that most rock groups could never come close to. Bruce Palmer, bassist for the band recalls the formation of the band: “we started rehearsing at Stephen’s house with Crosby and Nash, it became real evident that they were nothing but backup singers. They didn’t like it and decided to change it. They couldn’t take that; they thought they were too big, too famous, too talented. They weren’t talented, they were backup singers … It looked to them as if it was Crosby and Nash backing up Buffalo Springfield, being nothing more than harmony singers for Stephen, Neil, myself, and Dallas Taylor.” He continued: “that band is 95 percent Stephen doing everything and he’s got his backup singer boys with him.” He noted that drugs were already a huge part of the band. Super groupie Pamela Miller (Des Barres) was witness to their formation and was horrified that they were actually calling themselves the Frozen Noses for their Woodstock major debut show in August 1969 in tribute to their proclivity for snorting mountains of cocaine. Cooler heads prevailed, and they decided to use just their names. Crosby contributed the beautiful Guinnevere (written about his then girlfriend Joni Mitchell) and Long Time Gone along with a sci-fi collaboration with Paul Kantner to create the powerful anti war Wooden Ships, a song done by both Jefferson Airplane and CSN. (Another song Crosby supposedly contributed just a single line to, the Airplane version remains the definitive chilling version for those fans unaware.) His association with Jefferson Airplane also dips in with the song Triad, originally recorded for the Byrds in late 1967, a homage to the menage a trois, considered too dicey for the Byrds but right in the wheelhouse for the convention breaking Airplane.
Add Young please
Their debut album was quickly followed up in 1970 with the grittier Deja Vu album, augmented by the equally gritty Neil Young, forming the on and off again super super group, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. One of the signpost albums of the late 60’s early 70’s, the singles Woodstock, Teach Your Children and Our House showed the four part harmonies they could now produce. The non album track Ohio, protesting the then current Kent State massacre didn’t make the album but remains one of their most popular and powerful anti-war songs of the generation. Crosby contributed the wistful Almost Cut My Hair and title track Deja Vu, but mostly stuck to harmonies on the album.
If you are going to own a Crosby album, this is it
Post CSN
CSNY petered out by the end of 1970, and Crosby was left to his own devices (read: partying, drugs, guns). His association with the Grateful Dead (along with Stills and Nash) in 1970 as the Dead crafted their seminal album, American Beauty brought the Dead accolades for their newly minted ability to harmonize well. Crosby took a lot of credit for this, and though his input might have been more on the chemical side, this led to the Dead helping out on Crosby’s first solo album, If Only I Could Remember My Name, a title more true than folks might have guessed. A heroin sheen floats through much of this dreamy album, which holds together five decades later pretty well. To be fair, David was not in a good place following the death of his close girlfriend Christine Hinton in a car crash in 1969. According to Graham Nash, Crosby ‘was never the same after going to identify her body’. Crosby was still dating Joni Mitchell simultaneously. The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, Joni Mitchell, Stills and Nash all contributed to the all star cast. This is probably the pinnacle of Crosby’s career, and it was a slow slide from here into the abyss of drugs, guns and dodged and undodged incarcerations. And some music too.
1972 and Beyond…Lost and Found and Lost…
We In White Mountain o’ Trouble
The years following the the 1971 solo debut saw uncertainty and promise on the horizon. CSN&Y had a huge reunion tour scheduled in 1973 for the upcoming year. They were going to be huge, if they could keep their tempers in check. They couldn’t. Drug problems, girl problems, drinking problems-you name it, they had it. Nash had stolen Joni Mitchell from Crosby. Nash had stolen Rita Coolidge from Stills. Nash could hoover more coke than the legendary Crosby, a not inconsiderable feat. Stills sank into meth, downers, heroin and booze to supplement the coke. Crosby sank into a mountain of white powder-heroin? Coke? Who knew or cared? Nash sank into everyone’s ex-girlfriend while snorting more coke than Studio 54 saw in a week. Predictably, the tour was acrimonious and the sessions for the proposed album went poorly, and were finally terminated unfinished in 1974. The band seemed unaware what coke was going to do to their vocal chords, and the powerful harmonies had been reduced to a shadow of their former glory.
You take this verse, I’m grinding my teeth
Crosby and Nash teamed up on one side and plied the free and easy ‘California Sound’ that had overtaken rock n roll. Stills and Young teamed up on the other side with some country tinged California sound. Crosby and Nash put together a career that lasted until 1978. Crosby was starting to come seriously unglued due to the unending drug bender he’d been on since 1968, and ideas of touring and recording were shelved. By 1978, Crosby had a huge free-basing problem. The band had been plagued by dodgy vocals (coke) and some iterations suffered from jacked up tempos and off key delivery from the massive coke consumption. But oh that California Sound and Laurel Canyon heavenly lifestyle…
Interlude: The Government Hijacks Rock n Roll? What?
Some historians have delved into the origins of the California Sound and found that it was a very incestuous scene centered in Laurel Canyon on the outskirts of LA proper. It was a former outpost for actors in the 1920’s that had morphed into a haven for the dissipated rich and disaffected, trading actors for musicians over 40 year span.
The idea of the government trying to destroy rock n roll is not as far fetched as it might seem. It had already happened once, in the 50’s. Rock n roll was a newly minted phenomenon in the mid 1950’s. But it had some unsettling effects on the youth of America. Blacks and whites freely mixed at concerts, record stores and dances. White stations were playing black music. White girls were huge fans of Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Hank Ballard–the dreaded thought of black guys and young white girls enraged most of white America. Elvis was creating a phenomenon among younger people. Riots at rock concerts were frequent. Teenage girls were throwing their underwear at black artists in concert. Kids suddenly went from the Leave it to Beaver stereotype to ‘they just don’t listen anymore and can’t be controlled!’. In short order by the end of the 50’s influential DJ’s werer arrested, Chuck Berry was under arrest and in jail. Elvis was in the army. Little Richard retired from touring and returned as a gospel preacher. Jerry Lee Lewis fell in scandal (marrying his underage cousin).
Soon this guy was the face of rock n roll.
The future of Rock n Roll, 1959
By 1959, rock was dead. But nobody planned on the Beatles. Rock once again took over the world. Throughout the 60’s rock once again grew in power, this time more sophisticated-heady ideas of counterculture were being thrown around. Governments took notice. The French government nearly fell to the nascent hippy culture and fought for control of the country. Czechoslovakia had to have Soviet troops brought in to put down the rock n roll fueled youth culture. In 1968, it was brewing strongly in America-New York, Detroit, San Francisco were hot beds of dissident rock n roll. Primitive pre-punk DIY bands were stirring shit up on many levels.
MC5
Jefferson Airplane The Fugs
Velvet Underground
Grateful Dead
The Stooges
So these bands were preaching some serious anti government stuff. Free love, drugs, anti-establishment, anti government, anti money, anti work, anti war….the US Government certainly was aware of what happened in France, Czechoslovakia and Mexico-this shit could topple a government. What to do? Lock them all up? Impossible. Steer the record industry and thus the public away from these bands? Well that one is possible. Alphabet agencies (read: CIA) had a strong toehold in Los Angeles police and newspapers. With LA as the center of media attention, it was easy to draw the focus of the country to one music scene, the LA scene.
And suddenly LA was no longer ruled by the Doors and chaos, out of nowhere came a corporate boatload of similar sounding singers and songwriters. Joni MItchell, all the iterations of CSN&Y, Jackson Browne, Loggins and Messina, Pablo Cruise, America, Poco, the Eagles, the Flying Burrito Brothers…most of these bands (barring Joni) were considered execrable by rock music fans… they all came from LA, Laurel Canyon in particular, in a two year period, as if by…design? The free wheeling bands of New York, Detroit and San Francisco-bands built on speed and LSD, were suddenly replaced by introspective singer songwriter types fueled by a good bottle of white wine and a joint. (And coke). The threat from rock n roll to topple the country, fuel a revolution, went from “we are voices of chaos and anarchy” in the Bay Area to “peaceful easy feeling” in LA in scant 24 months. Iggy Pop in his most recent documentary is quite certain that this is exactly what happened. “How did all the influential bands suddenly get overrun by a bunch of acoustic guitars and songwriters all from LA? By accident?”
A deeper and lengthy read on this, while a bit rambling, is fascinating. Read this taleherewhen you get a chance.
Back to the Story
Crosby continued downward: caught freebasing at a show in Dallas backstage, car crash with a boatload of drugs and guns, a couple of weeks later more drug and gun charges. Arrests became frequent enough that incarceration seemed likely in the face of 5 years of probation. By 1985, even Texas was unable to overlook multiple drug and gun charges and he did 9 months in lock up.
Fresh Liver For Crosby
The above was the headline in a British music tabloid in 1994 when Crosby, despite giving himself liver disease from shooting heroin and drinking a Great Lake worth of booze, managed to jump the transplant line and get an immediate new liver installed. Phil Collins bailed David out financially in circumstances still not well understood. Crosby however knew how serious it was. Graham Nash had come in to see him before the operation. He wished David well with “You leave me with fucking Stills, I’ll kill you.”
The weirdest Dead associated album ever released
Hold My Frappe
So I actually got to meet Crosby before the liver incident. I was working in a very punk rock record store. Crosby had installed his daughter at a local Seven Sisters Ivy League college. He had popped in several times, and the staff delighted in torturing the only staff member who could vaguely pass for a hippy and actually liked CSNY every time I missed him stopping in. Finally I had enough and left my post to find him outside. I brought a cassette of Seastones, a Ned Lagin and Phil Lesh project that consisted mostly of processed found sounds and blips and beeps from a Buchla modular and a couple of ARP 2600s. Also enticingly listed were Jerry Garcia, Mickey Hart, Spencer Dryden,Grace Slick and David Crosby as guest musicians. Several close listens to the atonal random synth burps do not reveal any sign of the players listed in the randomness.
Me: ‘Hello David, I’ve missed you several times in the store. Would you mind signing this’ *proffers tape at him
“I love this record but defy anyone to find you on it:” I said smiling.
He responded: “I’m definitely on it, I assure ya”
Me: * looking at his arms filled with snacks and a large quart sized ice cream drink with straw… “Can you sign this?”
Crosby : “Ok…hold my frappe”
Legendary quote. That’s probably more Crosby than you might care to know, but someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth (more likely nose) had made a long career of having fun, and making some people pretty happy along the way. He made a career out of entitlement, but in a fashion made that into an art form. The truth hung a bit below the surface, and one had to keep an ear to the ground to start to pick up hints of trouble in paradise.
If ever there was a rock star that cruised by on their reputation without actually doing all that much, David Crosby has to be the poster boy. David Geffen had a low opinion of his input to rock: “David was obnoxious, loud, demanding, thoughtless, full of himself – of the four of them [David Crosby, Steven Stills, Graham Nash and Neil Young], the least talented.” But he was in the right place at the right time enough times that one can be excused for wondering if there was some force guiding things behind the scenes. His Van Cortlandt family name contains some of the blue-est of the blue bloods in American history, and girls were lining up for some Van Cortlandt genetic injections from the free wheeling Crosby. Melissa Etheridge and her partner have two children via Crosby, and they aren’t the only ones who oddly sought out this guy.
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