And we close out our Independence Day posts with this from singer-songwriter Mickey Newbury.
You may have heard “American Trilogy,” combining “Dixie,” “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” and the spiritual “All My Trials Will Soon Be Over” by Elvis or another artist — it has been much covered — but Newbury created it. And this is how it should sound. Emotional but not overwrought, full of a bittersweet patriotism, rich and deeply moving. How can anyone not be touched by this?
I hope all you folks out there have a day like this one. Falling in love, being with friends, driving around and enjoying eveything that the United States has to offer.
Some Brit boys get into our Independence Day mix, with this early Def Leppard tune, “Hello America.” This is from their first album, with an unpolished and in good part unintelligible vocal from Joe Elliott.
This is really an English baby band’s fantasizing about getting to go to America, by which they mean California. “I’m gonna try Hollywood and San Pedro Bay,” and “I’m gonna spend a little time in Frisco and L.A.” And once they got here, they would discover that it’s pronounced “San Peedro Bay,” and that our neighbors in NoCal get very sniffy about being called “Frisco.”
Not that such cultural details are of concern to the Def boys. What they are largely hoping to find in California is women, lots of women. And they found them — Leppard were notoriously one of the most hard-partying, hard-living bands of the ’80s.
But this is really just good dumb fun, with a blast of a guitar solo — a different and very rock ‘n’ roll American dream.
On this Fourth Of July it seems quite appropriate that I should find the most metal, most head banging, most extreme and loud song that fits right in with today’s celebrations.
When thinking of the 4th of July, Metallica is not what comes first to my mind. I’m usually thinking about flags, veterans, our country’s founding and what it means to be lucky enough to be an American. Head banging heavy metal is not a place you tend to find any such ideas. Yet with “Don’t Tread On Me,” Metallica seems to have hit the nail on the head.
“Liberty or death, what we so proudly hail, once you provoke her, rattling of her tail,
Never begins it, never, but once engaged… Never surrender, showing the fangs of rage.”
As required by their musical genre they use a hammer that weighs several tons…
I want to find a fireworks show that uses this song for the display!
Imagine a display with fireworks dancing along to this, kind of like the house with the Christmas lights from a few years ago but with explosions! It would cost more money than I care to imagine, and I can imagine a lot, but that would be wild!
And as we celebrate Independence Day, here’s a tune from one of the biggest stars of the ’70s, Neil Diamond. This tribute to immigrants was a relatively late hit for Diamond, topping the charts in 1982.
Lyrically, “America” doesn’t amount to much; it’s really just a string of awkward phrases and cliches. That’s unusual for Diamond; as a songwriter, his gift was really for melody and his lyrics could be odd or awkward (“songs she brang to me” comes to mind), but he generally had more imagination than to toss out lines like “Freedom’s light burning warm.”
Also, the arrangement is almost painfully ’80s, with drum machine, seasick bass, and rinky-dink keyboards. But it can’t defeat Diamond’s pop rock sensibilities or his big Broadway delivery. The vocal is a bit rough compared to his earlier work, but he characteristically gives it everything he’s got.
This isn’t a day to debate the politics of immigration, and this song is a warm if clumsy tribute to immigrants and their dream of America.
Bridey: As you’ve read by now, Ronnie James Dio, who had one of the best metal voices that ever was, died over the weekend at age 67. That made him a few years older than most of the rockers who peaked during his prime period in the ’70s, but Dio, who strutted like a giant and spun like a top, never slowed down.
Pete: As the frontman for some of the most important heavy metal bands of the ’70s — first Rainbow and Black Sabbath, and then in a successful solo career as simply Dio, he always stood out. Oddly enough, both for his small stature and his incredibly big voice.
Bridey: The first time I became aware of Dio, kind of, was way back in 1975, during the first go-round for Rainbow, when “Man on the Silver Mountain” came out. I was still in junior high and into Elton John (but about to see Tommy and discover The Who and leave the popsters behind forever). I had no idea who was in Rainbow or that it had sprung from the remains of Deep Purple, but I knew I loved this song. I loved the spiraling guitar and that glorious solo, of course. But mostly what I loved was was that go-for-it-and blow-the-damn-roof-off vocal. And that was Dio.
Pete: I always have had a great love of “Man On The Silver Mountain” as well. When Dio went solo, the song I couldn’t get enough of was “Holy Diver.”
Pete: Dio was one of those guys who always sold it on stage. When he was up there, your eyes were always on him as he strutted and stomped and sang the hell out of the mystical lyrics he concocted. Taking you to his world a few moments at a time. Here he is in 2002.
Bridey: And Dio was, by all reports, one of the best people in rock. The words “nicest guy” and “nicest man” keep coming up in obit after obit. Any part of show business is brutally competitive, and perhaps rock in particular attracts a lot of real SOBs — if they don’t start that way, they can get pretty hard over the difficult years. But Dio has been known, and will now be remembered, as one of rock ‘n’ roll’s good guys.
Pete: With his massive voice and presence on the stage, his influence in the metal world, and with his deserved reputation as a good man to all those he worked with over many years, and of course, among his fans, Dio will be remembered as the giant he was.
In the news today, Pete Townshend said he and Roger Daltrey will be playing a “mashup” of Who songs at the Super Bowl on Sunday. Now, aside from it being cute to see old Pete use a term like “mashup,” what this means is that they will be playing, simply, a medley of hooks.
And that brings me to one of my small collection of rock ‘n’ roll axioms, stated here before:
A band or artist that plays a medley of hits and/or hooks in public at any time may consider its artistic credibility irredeemably lost.
Now, the Who peaked artistically with Quadrophenia in ’73 and lost whatever remaining identity they had with Keith Moon’s death in ’78, and they have been more or less spinning their wheels ever since. But it is nonetheless inexpressibly discouraging to hear they plan to do a damn medley. Tom Petty’s an old rocker, too, but he knows it: Real artists don’t do medleys, they do songs.
But anyway. Here are a few more of Bridey’s informal rules of pop:
If a band is capable of producing two really good albums, consecutively or not, they will probably produce a third good album, but will almost never produce a fourth.
Speaking of albums, hardly anyone ever does anything that works all the way through.
Making a concept album and/or rock opera is a bad idea. That Ziggy Stardust and Quadrophenia are great concept albums only means that it’s possible, not that it’s a good idea.
There never has been and never will be a concept album and/or rock opera where the concept involves Rock ‘n’ Roll Rebels against the Establishment that doesn’t suck.
When your frontman or at least half of your founding members are dead, it is time to hang it up, or at least call the band something else.
Want to debate? Got your own rules of rock? Put ‘em in comments!
I have just heard that Tim Hart, who with Maddy Prior was the guiding spirit of Steeleye Span, died on Christmas Eve at 61.
Prior and Hart were already working as a duo when they and Ashley Hutchings formed Span in 1970, and Hart was with the band throughout their ’70s prime.
Maddy’s fine, bright soprano is the voice people most tend to associate with Span, but Tim Hart’s intensely expressive vocals and distinctive Lincolnshire accent were just as key to making them the most consistently enjoyable of the electric folk acts of the ’70s.
One of Hart’s most charming:
Though there are a few other close contenders, Steeleye Span remains the band I love most and come back to most often. Their best work was during the astoundingly prolific stretch from 1970′s Hark the Village Waits through 1976′s Rocket Cottage — ninealbums released in less than six years.
After that, sadly, both their quality and productivity begin to fall off, but it was a remarkable run. And of course Span were plagued by constant personnel changes throughout their long existence; Hart left for good in 1983.
For the Span beginner, I’d recommend the fun and very accessible Parcel of Rogues, or Below the Salt, which I think is their best album (that’s where you’ll find “John Barleycorn”). For the duo of Tim Hart and Maddy Prior, Summer Solstice is a fine record.
Hart had been in poor health in recent years and was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2008. He died at his home in Spain, leaving a wife and two daughters. Rest in peace, Tim.
