Who Moved My Cheese Metal?

In the early seventies progressive rock was on quite an upswing in popularity with Yes, Emerson, Lake and Palmer and Genesis leading the charge. The ball was started rolling by groups like Procul Harem, King Crimson and Soft Machine in the late sixties but they never really connected to a larger audience the way that Yes, ELP and Genesis did.

I have always been a big fan of prog rock from the first time I heard the Yes single ”Roundabout.” I remember pestering my local radio station request line over and over on the weekends to play it. (They never did).

I guess I drove the folks over at K-100 crazy. They never played the song for me but they did turn into a light pop/dance station shortly thereafter. (I showed them by moving on to KMET (out of business), KWST (out of business) and then KLOS (out of influence…)

Having got my feet wet with Yes’ “Fragile” album, I started to roam the complicated musical time signatures and all too often indecipherable lyrics of prog’s finest. I still listen with amazement to “Heart of the Sunrise” where Yes’ bass player, Chris Squire and Steve Howe on guitar design a roller-coaster ride of opposing lead runs. One going high as the other goes low, switching, matching, harmonizing, all over the full scale of their instruments. One inspiring show of musicianship and creativity.

ELP’s “Karn Evil 9- 1st impression Part 2″ is one of the most technically challenging pieces of music you can find in any genre. Carl Palmer’s drums alone are world class. Not to mention the fact that it is one of the few prog rock songs that is just lots of fun.

Genesis has the same caliber of musicianship. Peter Gabriel’s words and vocals are cryptic and clever. Mike Rutherford’s bass is distinctive and accurate, matching Tony Banks’ keyboards with Phil Collins’ drums tying it all together so Steve Hackett can run away with the melody on guitar, followed closely by Banks’ keyboards all over again.

Peter Gabriel and Steve Hackett would both be gone by 1978 and Genesis would only record one more “progressive” album, “And Then There Were Three” before heading in a very much more pop direction.

After the change in style they sold an absurd amount of records and were one of the biggest bands in the world for nearly twenty years. I still love them. Pop or prog but, who carried on the progressive rock tradition and style? ELP folded, reunited, folded, became ASIA, (kind of). Yes had major success in the early eighties but at the cost of becoming decidedly more pop.

Not an evil thing I guess. They have bills to pay and I can’t really get that upset over someone wanting to make millions of dollars and be a worldwide rock star. But where did the music go?

Marillion!

Their one and only real hit in the U.S. was “Kayleigh” from the “Misplaced Childhood” album. 

Click To Listen To "Kayleigh" from Misplaced Childhood

I’ve bashed on some cover versions here, but that doesn’t reflect a general disdain for people doing “other people’s songs.” I don’t think any tune should be untouchable, no matter how beloved the original, or how definitive it seems to be for a given artist — if another artist genuinely has something to add.

But the one I want to talk about now is actually a much-recorded tune, and one that made one of the most entertaining and memorable cover hits of the ’70s. “Love Hurts” started life as an Everly Brothers song, written by Boudleaux Bryant, but it has such an Orbisonian vibe about it that Roy took a stab at it only a year or so later. Of course, the Everlys did it well (they did most things well). And, in my opinion, Roy did it better.

But Nazareth owns this song. Their take did the most important thing a cover should do, and brought a completely new energy — an energy that was absolutely fresh and up-to-the-minute in 1975. So fresh, indeed, that Nazareth’s “Love Hurts” was a big metal power ballad when such a thing barely existed.

Nazareth both anticipated where radio-friendly metal was headed and sent it up, to delightful effect. And of the zillion times this tune has been done, nobody ever hit that great bridge — “Some fools fools themselves, I guess/ But they’re not fooling me!” — harder than Dan McCafferty, on the band’s only top 10 U.S. hit.

Also,  it delights me that they were Scots. There never seem to be enough Scots in rock ‘n’ roll.

DC’s got itself a brand-new classic rock radio station, as the folks at Citadel Broadcasting have flipped WJZW to “105.9 the Edge.”  The frequency has spent about the last year and a half as ’60-based oldies after 14 years as a smooth jazz outlet, and now it’s trying out the market’s taste for classic rock. The new Edge will be going up against heritage rocker DC101.

The new Edge is positioning itself as “Classic rock that rocks” and, at least in the early going, focusing on ’80s and ’90s, with Nirvana, AC/DC, the Clash, and Metallica bigger in the mix than format staples like Zeppelin and the Who.

The station is running jockless and commercial-free for now – take a listen here.

Wow. The Sound in L.A. just played the Van Halen version of “Dancing in the Streets.” I’d forgotten that Eddie and the boys actually did a worse cover than “You Really Got Me”!

Also (finding this a couple of weeks late), a good post on bad Beatles.  (My most hated Beatles song is “Run for Your Life,” but the worst is probably one of those Music Obsessive points to, “I Dig a Pony.”)

Back on Earth Day 1990, I was working at Cherokee Studios on Fairfax in Los Angeles shooting a video for Carmine Appice’s  Realistic Rock Drum Method video series. We had the place to ourselves, which was good as we had a huge amount of crap to bring in and set up.

Recording studios were not designed to shoot video back then so we were running cables, setting up gobos and reflectors and lots of other things as well as cameras, lights, monitors, Carmine’s drum set and a really neat set of neon drumsticks. (They had a power supply the size of a twelve pack with cables attached to the sticks. Wild!)

As we are all working, the lighting guy shows up. Really cool guy.

He was just back from Japan, having been on tour with Joe Walsh and Foreigner as a dual headliner show at Budokan. (That means one night Joe played last and the next night, Foreigner.)

After the usual bantering, complaining and sweating (note: artists only sweat onstage. Techies sweat all the time. It’s in the contract), we are standing around smoking in the control room (yes, you could do that back then), talking about the biz.

A pretty funny term came up when German, the producer (pronounced “Herman,” he’s Argentinian), came up and gave us a round of complaints from the this is not that and the that is too small for the whatever it is that should be over there instead of over here and we’ll all be fired if we don’t fix it now speech.

One of the engineers, Marco, said, “He’s pulling a Perry again…”

Being new to this bunch of guys, I asked.

“You know? Steve Perry? He’s an a——.” 

I still get a chuckle out of that.

Anyway, back to Budokan.

The lighting guy related how the last show with Joe and Foreigner had gone.

Really great performances, as should be expected, but being the end of the run and everyone getting beat and wanting to head home for a while, things started to get strange.

With Joe being the opener that night, Lou Gramm and Mick Jones headed down to the pit in front of the stage to razz Joe and the band. Having some good fun trying to distract them and generally just goofing around; being on the road for a while you just want to mess around.

After Joe’s set, it’s Foreigner’s turn onstage. Being 1990, Foreigner is still riding “I Want To Know What Love Is.”

A big part of the show.

They start out with the lights low and Lou in the spotlight. Very dramatic and powerful. When it’s time for the chorus, they pull the curtain back from behind the drummer and there is a huge choir to join in with Lou and the guys.

About the same time the audience starts hearing a loud series of “bang-bang-bang-bang.”

They get louder and louder and seem to be coming from the sides of the arena getting closer to the stage. “Bang-bang-bang-bang.” Then more of a “bang, bang-bang, bang-bang, bang.

The crowd and band don’t know what is happening. Foreigner is keeping it together but just barely…

Joe Walsh and Rick the Bass Player come slamming onstage…

On pogo-sticks from the wings.

Don’t mess with Joe.

He’s really good at this stuff!

Having been a big Deep Purple fan from way back, it wasn’t much of a stretch for me to jump in the pool for a swim around some loud guitars, big drums, thumping bass and delightfully overblown keyboards with a really small guy with a really big voice demanding to be heard.

Rainbow, of course.

Rainbow was the follow on band after Deep Purple imploded for one of perhaps too many times to count. This incarnation had Ritchie Blackmore on guitars (duh), Jimmy Bain on bass, Cozy Powell on drums and the little dynamo, Ronnie James Dio as your evil magical wizard elf lead singer. The keyboards were provided by Tony Carey.

Tony who? (I hear you thinking.)

Yep, Tony Carey.

In 1984 he released his second solo album, with vocals, having released several instrumental albums prior to this as well as being practically all of the band Planet P. The lone single from Some Tough City was a really cool track called “It’s a Fine, Fine Day.”

It’s one of those story songs that can either be a masterpiece or a real piece of, well…

I loved this song from the first time I ever heard it. I don’t think anybody I have ever played this song for liked it.

Tough crowd…

(I wish the video and sound were better, but there you go.)

The take on the subject is rather interesting for a rock song. Love, loss and redemption are staples of most popular music. Usually involving the breakup of love affairs or the more enjoyable starting, or wanting to start, love affairs.

The loss of an uncle who was a convicted mob figure, but a nice guy to his nephew just does not come up a lot in music.

Why do I love this ‘Hammond organ’ infested bit of cheese?

The vocal is quite emotional without going over the top. The lyrics tell a story that is interesting and novel for pop/rock songs. “Sonny” has paid his dues to the “Fed” but not to his “employers.” (Some mob euphemisms there.)

Tony’s subject matter in quite a few of his songs is a bit out there as this Planet P song can attest to.

“Why Me” was an early MTV staple. Tony was almost the whole band on this song as well as the songwriter. Inspired no doubt by Bowie’s “Space Oddity” and perhaps by Peter Schilling’s “Major Tom (Coming Home).” Either way, he has a very unique way of looking at things and writing about them.

If I can get one more person to actually enjoy “It’s a Fine, Fine Day,” my job for today is done. I will sleep well knowing that Tony’s legacy is secure.

Should Disney move in?

You know, there are lots of things in pop culture that don’t need to happen, but here’s something that really doesn’t need to happen. Says the New York Times, citing Variety:

All Aboard! ‘Yellow Submarine’ Remake in the Works

So dumb. The original is a beautiful little relic of its day. But it will not update.

When Submarine came out, the way it handled the Beatles’ various public personas was right on the edge of not working anymore, as demonstrated by their awkward and unnecessary appearance at the end. The movie had to be made precisely when it was made or never — it relied on image-building for the erstwhile Fab Four that nobody would have been able to buy into even a year later. Now, entirely too much has happened for those four men to be used as cute ‘n’ harmless cartoon characters.

And, since the remake will apparently rely on the motion-capture technology that made the 2007 Beowulf so intensely unpleasant to look at, next time out it won’t even be beautiful. Bad, bad idea.

OK, then, I pick up the gauntlet, and try to explain some of what made Journey in their prime so insanely irritating to so many critics and rock geeks.  (Making all due allowance for the many, many people who did, and do, love them passionately.)

No doubt there was some snobbery involved. Sure. But the problem wasn’t just that Journey were popular. A lot of popular acts were liked by critics, and some even by rock snobs, when Journey were in their prime. Prince, for one, and Bruce Springsteen. So that isn’t it, or not all of it.

Also, nobody (who knew what they were talking about) ever questioned Journey’s musicianship. They were all fine players, and Steve Perry was probably the great rock voice of the early ’80s. That voice was huge, and he had tremendous technical ability, which had become a real rarity by that time.

So what was the problem? First, you know, there is just something about Perry’s voice. It is a certain, not quite reediness, but a kind of buzzy quality, not exactly nasal, that makes his voice extremely penetrating. And he’s not exactly a subtle singer. It’s not so much a lack of dynamics; he’s not a screamer. But there is a tendency to overemote, to approach an ordinary tune with ordinary-to-vapid lyrics as though it were all actually deep and important and real, man.

There are much weaker singers who can really make something out of a dumb song, but Perry, in a sense, is too good a musician for that. When he goes on the attack, he ends up pointing up the lameness of a bad song just because it’s so out of proportion. And, you know, overemoting on minor-league tunes is a bubblegum trick, and it’s part of why Journey could never shake that rap of being not quite serious.

And the songs themselves, while always (and often too) totally professional and technically sound, often ran to the highly sentimental, as in  “Lights,” or the too self-consciously anthemic, as in  “Don’t Stop Believin.’” Journey just seemed too eager to please — and a rock star who is completely without an edge is just not doing his job.

The bands of the late ’70s and early ’80s who fell into the same not-quite-plausible box as Journey tended to have that eager-puppiness in common — that’s pretty much everyone in the post-Boston metal pop boom (Loverboy, Survivor) other than Boston themselves, or the post-New Wave novelty acts like Men at Work and Flock of Seagulls. One wants to say, “Dudes, you’re trying too hard.” Many rock critics, and every rock snob, wants to have to work a little at loving a band, and that makes the very accessible Journey seem like lightweights. No edge, no challenge, no fun.

And sure, “Castles Burning” is an un-Journeylike blast, but it comes well past their prime, and thus is not really on topic as far as that goes. And I imagine they delivered live, since they could really play. But, in my opinion, if Journey were not taken seriously by the critics and rock geeks, it was because they tended to do things* that made taking them seriously pretty hard.

*Some will win, some will lose, some are born to sing the blues.

I will once more take the risk of bringing up one of my favorite bands of all time. Yep, Journey time again.

They always got a bad rap from critics and the music industry in general because they committed the cardinal sin of popular music. 

They sold more records than the so called “creative,” “innovative,” “artistic,” “ground breaking,” “next Bob Dylan,” “next Bruce Springsteen,” “edgy” recording artists of their day.

Journey never got much of anything from the music press and critics, but it didn’t stop them from making some really great music. For lead vocals it is a very small group of singers who can compete with Steve Perry. Niel Schon’s guitars? I guess there are better but it really gets subjective at this level of musicianship. Aynsley Dunbar and Steve Smith on drums? Both truly great players.

One of my favorite bass players, Ross Valory is still creating major low frequency disturbances around the country with his subtle touch and amazing speed. Jonathan Cain filling in the spaces and then flying up front with his elegant piano and keyboards.

Why are they so hated by the biz?

They have been eligible for the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame since 2000. Only Gregg Rolie, ( the founder and original keyboard player,) is in- as a member of Santana. What gives?

In 1996 Journey got back together after a nearly ten year break. The album they recorded, “Trial By Fire” is fascinating. Parts of it sound like they could have been recorded for the “Escape” album while others are like no other Journey songs you will ever hear.

The opening track, “Message Of Love” has another classic vocal by Perry. What makes it so different is the edge. The hardness of the music. Journey is REALLY Rocking on this one. Then it get’s better with “One More.”

Is this Journey? ( You will ask yourself…)

Yes it is and always had been. Just never in the studio before. Anyone who saw them live in their prime knows what I mean. This time it’s on the album.

“Castles Burning” is from another band. Another planet. Maybe the evil “Anti-Journey.” Yet it’s still unmistakably them. You just can’t quite believe it.

 ( Sorry it’s an  Unofficial Video, they never made one. )

The last two minutes of “Burning” are a cacophony of wild keyboards, strange vocal mutations flying by somewhere in the back with bass, drums and guitars battling each other for supremacy.

Anyone who says Journey dosen’t rock never saw them live and certainly hasn’t heard “Trial By Fire.”

The man who made it possible has died at 94. Les Paul was the creator, of course, of the solid-body electric guitar, indisputably the defining instrument of rock ‘n’ roll.

With the wonderful Mary Ford, who died in 1977.

Rest in peace, Les.

Gibson has posted a nice tribute.