A last "message"...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll, after a long layoff...

It's 1986.  Journey was on top of the world.  Their album Raised on Radio owned the charts.  Tours sold out within minutes.  There wasn't anything they couldn't do.  Then...

Fast-forward to 1996.  No new studio music since Raised on Radio.  Guitarist Neal Schon founded Bad English.  Steve Perry (AKA The Voice) was releasing solo records.  But he left a clue in a video for his 1985 solo song "Foolish Heart".  At the end of the video (at least in its original length), members of Journey met him on stage, and Steve said "Let's go cut a track". 

But that "track" never got "cut", or it wasn't acceptable to the band or their record label.  But the real breakup of Journey happened after their "comeback" record, Trial By Fire.  And it's this album, 11 years after Raised on Radio, that contains our Wayback destination for today.

The opening track, "Message of Love" is textbook Journey.  Bombastic percussion, soaring vocals by Perry, and a garden-variety over-indulged guitar solo by Schon.  It would have been at home on any Journey album of the '80s.  And even though Trial was a million-selling record, it was the last one with Perry as vocalist. 

VH1 tells the tale much better in a classic Behind the Music (go here--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=elLRt16I46w).  Perry's hip injury led to a demand for a hip replacement by the rest of the band.  Perry didn't want to do it, and was issued an ultimatum--get the surgery or else.  Perry resigned from the band.  And since then there has been zero Steve Perry music other than some repackaged outtakes and 5 songs that were supposed to be a solo album but were shelved.

Perry lives on in "Message of Love".  Yeah, yeah--Journey found a singer who sounds like Perry.  No matter--the new guy doesn't write as well, sing as well, and he's a mimic.  There is only one Voice.  Let's luxuriate in his greatness.

More later..  Let's hope the rumors of a new Perry album are true...

Pete

More music that makes me happier...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Today, I've found a relatively new (2016) song that has managed to evade me until now.  I don't listen to terrestrial radio anymore, mostly because the Internet has plenty of options and I've become a fan of Ambient Chill, something that no over-the-air radio station would play under penalty of death.

Also, I pretty much find that almost all current music--well, to coin a phrase--sucks.  I don't know my Katy Perry from my Ariande Grande, but I can tell when something has been touched by Max Martin.

Max is a Swedish producer/songwriter/Svengali who has essentially created the sound we hear on pop radio.  Just about everything Katy Perry, Britney Spears, Taylor Swift, and any number of Pop Chanteuses that have been populating the charts with the past 10 years released was written/produced/influenced by him.  When he produces something, you can't mistake it.

I don't have children, and therefore don't see all that many movies aimed at them.  Yes, I saw How to Tame Your Dragon (both of them) and anything Pixar makes, but a number of kid movies go right by me.  And it's that blindspot that allowed me to miss today's Happymaker when it was attached to the movie Trolls.

I also missed the first 15 minutes of this year's Academy Awards, or else I'd have gotten exposed to this song in February.  I'm not a big Justin Timberlake fan (too old, obviously).  But man, did I miss this one.  It's simply the best dance tune I've heard in 10+ years.

And I'll even forgive Justin and Max for stealing (let's be frank, this isn't a "sample", or an "homage".  It's outright theft) of the baseline from Chic's "Good Times".  Same number of bass notes, same pause, same run down the fretboard between two three note and the six note runs.  Bernard Edwards (genius bassist who created all those memorable tunes ("Everybody Dance", "My Feet Keep Dancing", the aforementioned "Good Times", "My Forbidden Lover") is rolling (and rocking) over in his grave.  

Theft aside, this is a fabulous tune, with that signature Max Martin touch (throbbing baseline, brighter than bright chorus atmospherics, at least one or two breakdowns).  I also know that this song would have been top 10 without a vocal.  How do I know?  Listen to this:

And as evidence of the felony, the prosecution enters into evidence this clip:

Go to 3:22.  Hard to miss it.

Anyway, my endorphin level peaks when I hear Justin's song, and I'm happy Disco has made a comeback.  I told Disco Haters in 1977 that their children would be listening to it because it was universal, and easy to digest.  Turns out their children's children will also be hearing it.  Besides, this song has HORNS, a surefire nod that whomever wrote/arranged/produced it grew up listening to music from the '60s and '70s.

And to leave you, here's a YouTube clip with Timberlake's song synced to dancing from 70 years worth of movies.  It's fun and I can't imagine the work that went into it.  Enjoy.

More later...


Pete

Music that makes me happier...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Between the deaths of Walter Becker and Tom Petty, the real possibility of war with North Korea, the incredible slog ahead of Puerto Ricans, and the ongoing war against the poor and disadvantaged, there are moments where it seems only logical to give up and crawl into a hole.  But when that feeling sets in I find that certain songs elevate me regardless of the gloom around me.

I'm gonna share some of the more obscure tracks that always bring a smile to my face and an elevation of my mood.  We start with perhaps my favorite of all.

I'm not a big John Hiatt fan.  I'd be hard-pressed to name any of his songs other than "Slow Turning", "Have a Little Faith in Me" and today's track, a song that demands your energy and rewards it with a rollicking guitar riff and a pounding beat.  It's always seratonin for my mood.

Nothing else to say but strap in and go.

Got more where that came from.  Stay tuned...


Pete

There's been a change...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I have nothing eloquent to say.  Another Hero gone too soon...

And last, but certainly not least--the iconic video:

Mick Jagger said it well--"What a bitch it is getting old"...


Pete

"Prog"? "Rock"? "Prog Rock"? "Rock Prog"?

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

The late '70s was a time of experimentation in rock music.  Genres collided.  Instrumentation was evolving as the synthesizer was introduced (even synthetic drums, which sounded nothing like real drums, but still).  Holdovers from earlier in the decade came into their own (Chicago, Elton John, ELO, etc.), and others were just happening (The Police, Alan Parsons, Genesis, etc.).  Oh, and Disco was King.  More on that in subsequent posts.

It was a heady time, and interspersed with the big guys were little guys who made great music for one or two records.  One of those is my destination for today.  40 years after the fact it's probable that almost nobody remembers the German/British band Lake.  They were unabashed popsters, with a straight ahead musical sound that was familiar but still unique.

They made two records before falling off my (and probably everybody else in North America's) radar.  They made 10 more records, but almost all of them were European releases.  I'm sure they enjoyed a strong revival in the '90s and early 2000s.  It was very consumable music.  But every now and then they slipped in something "different".

"Welcome to the West" was the leadoff track from Lake II.   It was one of those mashups between "rock" and "prog".  It was a ballad, with some very different meter changes from the verses to the chorus.  And the lyric was very political--it referenced the appeal of the West to those living in East Germany in the late '70s.  I grew up with two Germanys--one a democracy, the other a Soviet acolyte.

It's uplifting while also being very satirical.  A sample:

Every Friday we'll give you some pay
Enough to survive
We'll keep you alive
Here in the West

A very catchy tune with a sly dig at how much "better" things were in the West.  Of course, things WERE better in the West at that time.  So was the music...

More later.


Pete

OK, you've heard of this one...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

"Prog" was a term used by music critics (and those who fancied themselves amongst the cognoscenti of obscure musical styles), but got polluted/infected/perverted by too much use on too many acts that either didn't want the label or didn't really qualify for it.  Or, an artist WAS "prog" for a while, decided million-selling records paid the bills better, then switched.

Today's destination for the Wayback Machine was one of the latter.  Genesis was one of the original "prog" bands--most of us were not really into their music as much as we were into their live shows, which used lights (lasers!) and staging to create a mood.  Of course, the experience was enhanced by the liberal application of certain substances (not that I would know--I was high on life at the time).

But when original frontman Peter Gabriel went out on his own (and issued not one, but two albums with the exact same name), Genesis moved from a "prog" band to a "prog-pop" band and eventually to a full-on "pop-rock" band.  Most of that can be attributed to the influence of Phil Collins, who also managed to sell a bajillion records as a solo act.

But way back in 1980, Genesis was still considered a fringe act with a "prog" bent.  Their next record, Duke, changed all that.  It was more accessible than anything Gabriel did, and moved them more into the center of the Bell Curve.  Back when records were King, and cassettes were Prince (no, not THAT Prince), there were two sides.  Side 1, Track 1 was the most important place to make a statement.  Side 2, Track 1 was usually something commercial but not too much so.

Side 2, Track 1 on Duke was "Turn It On Again", an upbeat rocker done in an impossible 13/4 time signature, which changed to 3/4 later in the song.  Collins, a drummer by trade, played the two timelines and switched effortlessly between them, making what could have been an aural mess into something with continuity that people could follow.  It's a testament to his talent that we can even stay with the beat.

So, it's "prog".  It's "pop-rock".  And, it's really good.  You haven't heard this in a while.  I'd expect to hear it in 2019 as part of the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy, Part 3.  At least, we should...

Tomorrow, electronic music, '70s style...


Pete

No, you don't know this one, either

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I remain back in the late '70s/early '80s "prog rock" era.  When bands were able to experiment with structure and theme away from the pressures of commercial radio.  But as I said yesterday, "prog" was a catch-all term that seemed to apply to everyone from Toto to Hawkwind, with a thousand variants in between.

Today's example is a band with a long and storied history of being under the radar.  Camel was a British band that started as a "jam band" with strange themes and even stranger musical structures.  Its personnel changed through the years, and included such luminaries as Peter Frampton (before he became "Alive" and sold 80 gabillion records), David Paton (who gained fame with The Alan Parsons Project), and Mel Collins, saxophonist par excellence, who did solos on APP records amongst others.

The throughline of Camel has been and is Andrew Latimer.  He's the "brains" of the outfit and continues to perform today.  Camel has a relatively passionate fanbase and they still turn out to hear the band.  I'm not a devotee, but I do have a strong love affair with their 1981 album Nude.

Nude is a "concept album"--a lost artform that tied several songs to a common theme  Think Tommy, anything by Alan Parsons, Sgt. Pepper, you get the drift.  Nude tells the story of a Japanese soldier found years after WWII who still thought he was at war, and the adjustment he had to make after being repatriated.

The opening track is "City Life", an overview of life as he knew it before he left for war.  It's a catchy tune, with a complete change in meter and instrumentation in the bridge followed by a killer sax solo and an outro that ties the previous parts together.  It sets the tone for the rest of the record, a feast for the ears.

Should you wish to dive deeper, go to YouTube and find "Drafted", the second song on Nude.  It also has a jarring change of tone after a relatively mild beginning (which recalls "City Life").

More later.  I'm enjoying this trip into the past so much I just might stay here...


Pete

No, you don't know it...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In my formative years (the late '70s), I got attached to what became known as "prog rock", a slang term for "progressive" that didn't do a very good job of narrowing down a wide variety of artists and styles.  Being a maven of Pop music rather than those "Critic's Darlings" whose music was inaccessible and arcane, I gravitated to more mainstream stuff.

But that didn't stop me from being out of the center of the Bell Curve.  I'm gonna explore those days in some detail and share stuff I'm just about 100% sure you never have heard.  We'll start with one of the best albums of the late '70s, Round the Back by Cafe Jacques.

I heard some of it while loitering in Schoolkids Records, the discount record place in Bloomington.  Like all record stores of the time, the staff played all manner of obscure stuff and I was a vinyl junkie who would buy a record based on one song I liked.  With Round the Back, however, I liked everything I heard.  It was the easiest $3.99 I ever spent.

I still have the record.  It was released on CD but not in the US--it was a Japanese high-quality disc that cost a fortune and I never bought it.  YouTube, and my ongoing decline in high-frequency sensitivity has re-introduced me to the music from this Scottish group.

Today's first in the "You Don't know it" series is "Meaningless", a song that presents "prog rock" in its more commercial flavor.  It's listenable, even though there are meter and key changes that weren't present in most of the music of the day.  And almost 40 years later it holds its allure, providing a satisfying experience no matter how many times I've heard it.

Enjoy it.  It's an exposure you won't get anywhere else.  Practically nobody else has even heard of Cafe Jacques.  But now you have...

More tomorrow.  Another song you've never heard, but will be happy when you do...


Pete

You Don't Need A Weatherman to Know Which Way the Wind Blows...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In recognition of the impending Apocalypse (not the North Korean one, the meteorological one), I thought I whip up a couple of timely tunes.  We're not sure yet when, or if, Irma will visit us, but all the digital models seem to be pointing that way.  So, here we go, with little or no commentary:

Love that bass line.

It's not exactly "red", but the radar image certainly shows it:

And, from Billy Joel.  Truer words were never spoken...

Finally, a word from Rock's Poet Laureate:

The hatches will be battened down.  We'll move inland if the news is bad.  More later in the week.


Pete

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

BULLETIN:  Walter Becker dies.

I'm pausing the "Earworm" series for a day to celebrate the life of Walter Becker.  He died yesterday, and it's yet another reminder of what happens to us as we age--our heroes begin to pass on.  The Good News for us is that our heroes leave a tangible legacy that we can enjoy for the rest of our time on the Mortal Coil.

Walter Becker was half of Steely Dan.  I often say that the older I get, the better Steely Dan sounds.  They brought jazz to rock music, and created not only a basketful of AM rock staples, but a rich collection of deep album tracks that further burnished their legacy.

You can like or not like "Reelin' in the Years", or "Do it Again", but one listen to "Don't Take Me Alive" or "Haitian Divorce" and you'll know you're in the presence of greatness.  Their reputation as obsessive studio rats, bringing in session players to play one bar, is well documented.  They even quit playing live for a time, although they relented on that later in their career to the joy of everyone who saw them.

Becker and his partner-in-crime Donald Fagen explored the seamy underside of human interaction.  The lyrical content was unfailingly depressing, focusing on losers, dreamers, and things going from bad to worse.  Nobody was spared--women, men, drug dealers, philanderers.  And Becker was at the front of it.

After an incredible (if somewhat low-output) series of records, they parted.  Some of it was that they had tired of the studio system.  Part was Becker's challenges with substances.  they eventually reunited and produced more music, even winning a Grammy for Record of the Year.

Before that, however, Fagen and Becker went their separate ways for a time (over a decade).  Fagen was producing music every so often, but Becker was invisible (no doubt a nod to his battles with chemicals).  But Becker did produce one album that showed his dark side in full view.

Eleven Tracks of Whack wasn't a great Steely Dan album, just as most of Fagen's solo work wasn't either.   You could almost hear them reaching out to each other seeking that synergy that propelled Steely Dan to iconic status.  But one track in particular played in my head yesterday as I heard the news (sorry, Steely Dan song title pun.  I won't do it again.  Oops).   Take a listen as Walter visits with his former (current?) dealer and recounts his time "Down in the Bottom".  RIP, Walter.  You done good...

See you tomorrow, after my mourning period has eased...


Pete

"Earworms", Part 1

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I want to spend a couple posts ruminating about "earworms".  You know, those songs that are either so catchy you can't forget them, or so irritating they won't leave your brain no matter how much bleach you use.

WARNING!  CLICKING THE LINK BELOW WILL INSERT AN EARWORM THAT MAY REQUIRE MEDICAL ATTENTION!

There are songs I could honestly hear every day and not have a single complaint.  "With a Little Help From My Friends", "Surfing With the Alien", or Benny Mardones singing "Into the Night".  But for every one of those, there are the "others"--stuff like "You Light Up My Life", "Wind Beneath My Wings", "Afternoon Delight" that are literally fingernails on a chalkboard, musically speaking.

Today's Earworm is a song I detest from a band I love.  Back in 1980-81, ELO owned the world.  Fresh off their double-disc classic Out of the Blue, and a follow up in Discovery, Jeff Lynne could do no wrong.  Well, almost.  Somehow he decided that providing songs for a movie starring Olivia Newton-John was a good idea.

Don't get me wrong--the songs he wrote for the movie were fine, except for the title track.  Sung by Newton-John, "Xanadu" has been wedged into my cerebral cortex for weeks.  I wake up to it,  I go to sleep with it, and sometimes it just appears in the middle of something else.  Gag.

What's even sorrier is that this was Gene Kelly's last movie.  He's at the very beginning of the video, under the "Xanadu" sign.  They put him on roller skates.  Kelly, he of Singin' in the Rain, and An American in Paris.  Xanadu probably hastened his death by years.  Ugh...

DON'T SAY YOU WEREN'T WARNED.  WATCH AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Sorry--gotta run.  Running late for my lobotomy.  Can't figure any other way to remove this abomination from my brain...

See you tomorrow (yes, I'm working Labor Day weekend--makes up for the missed time and blog posts)...


Pete

Nah--that couldn't be...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Thought I'd throw a couple of "Huh?" posts out this week.  Let's listen to some songs that just COULDN'T be from the artist in question.  Like, say, today's entry.  A country song from a British singer/songwriter and his lyricist.

When Elton John was at the peak of his popularity (in the mid-'70s), I read a piece in People magazine about him and his songwriting process.  Bernie Taupin wrote lyrics, and Elton would look at them, figure out the rhythm, then either write a song or not within FIVE MINUTES.  He would noodle it for a time, so it wasn't like it only took five minutes to write it, but to know where a given lyric was going, with zero direction about the music was incredible.

That brings me to today's song.  A social commentary about Texas Rednecks taking umbrage at the perceived negative influence of Rock and Roll types.  This song might have been right at home in late '70s and early '80s country radio.

Unfortunately, the lyrical content, although over 40 years old, just about fits today's alt-right movement.  Back then it was "long hairs" and "hippies", today it's anybody who's "different".  But in the end, the sentiment ("Godammit, you're all gonna die") remains.  I guess everything old is indeed new again.

Back tomorrow...


Pete

It's soulful, part 3

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Decided to abbreviate my "blue-eyed soul" examination and only show three of them.  I'll have plenty of time to go back and collect the two I missed due to an overabundance of doctor appointments.  No matter.  Today's artist is more than sufficient.

The story goes that Daryl Hall and John Oates grew up in Philadelphia, and were devotees of doo-wop and Motown music.  It was helpful that Hall's voice was inherently soulful, and that he was able to write songs that showcased that talent.  They had some hits ("Sara Smile", "Rich Girl") but didn't really blow up until the early '80s, when "Private Eyes" was all over MTV and the radio.

I saw ELO in 1981 at IU's Assembly Hall and H&O was the opening act.  At that time they had the #1 single in the USA ("Private Eyes") but they were the warmup act.  That was probably the last time they were the opening act for anybody.  they stayed red-hot for another 3-4 years and then separated for a spell (Hall for a solo career, Oates to race cars).

They eventually reunited because, well, everybody (except Supertramp) reunited.  There was way too much money out there to not do it.  Now, Hall hosts a podcast and series TV show from his upstate NY farm where he brings in world-class musicians to do old R&B standards and the guest's own hits.  It's pretty good stuff, and Hall sounds as good as he ever did.

I'll pick an old song, the leadoff track from Along the Red Ledge (1978), one of their works between the first and second waves of popularity.  Hall's voice permeates the track and his plaintive tale of love lost is worth the listen.  It's a good kickoff to the weekend...

See you next week...


Pete

It's soulful, Part. 2

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Today's trip into the Time Machine brings us another voice who jumped bands and made each one better (well, almost, but more on that later).  And like Paul Carrack, this voice has been making impact on popular music for four decades.  I will always listen to a song that Paul Rodgers sings.

It started (at least in the US) with a band called Free and their epic song "All Right Now".  It's still on classic rock radio.  The voice was a bit rougher, and more testosterone-filled, but it was also very soulful.  A great song that has aged well.

From there, it was on to his own band, the second act signed to Swan Song Records.  Of course, the first band signed was Led Zeppelin.  Bad Company was, like Zep, a bluesy band with an edge.  Rodgers' voice flavored a number of hits, specifically "Feel Like Making Love", "Can't Get Enough", and "Bad Company", a tune that warns everyone about how "bad" this band could be.

From Bad Company, he and his friend Jimmy Page (a guitarist of some note) created The Firm, and two albums did reasonably well.  Following that, he created a "project" using a drummer as the only permanent member, and using guest musicians depending on what direction Rodgers wanted to go.  The Law released one album but it didn't sell very well.  But there was that one song...

Paul Rodgers continues to entertain us--he's planning a tour in Europe where he will only sing songs from his Free days.  He's got a lot of options if that doesn't pan out.  But let's go back to 1991, and "that one song" that reveals the power and soul of his voice.  Enjoy...

More doctors tomorrow.  See you Thursday...


Pete

It's soulful, Part 1

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Sometime in the early '70s the term "blue-eyed soul" was invented to categorize singers (usually white) who sang with a more soulful manner, and without connections to Motown.  These vocalists brought an easily-identifiable sound to their records and were unmistakable.  I'm gonna spotlight five of those singers this week.

I start with a singer whose career spanned 3 decades, and at least three iterations.  Back in the '70s, his band Ace released "How Long".  It was 3 minutes and 21 seconds of pure radio perfection--an infectious chorus with a single verse that was repeated twice.  This song is 43 years old, and you can still hear it on "classic rock" stations.

Once Ace broke up, he went under the radar, then re-emerged as the lead singer of Mike + the Mechanics, a side project started by Genesis guitarist Mike Rutherford.  Mike needed something to do while Phil Collins was selling billions of records as a solo artist.  M+TM had a couple of hits, then Rutherford went back to Genesis.

Then it was on to Squeeze, a UK critics' darling band that did so-so over here.  But his vocal on "Tempted" was unmistakable and drove the song into the top 10.  Our singer moved on to a solo career, the highlight of which was "Don't Shed a Tear", a mid-tempo song that showcased his voice even though it was almost 20 years after Ace.  He also did some work with Roger Waters of Pink Floyd amongst others.

Paul Carrack was labeled "The man with the golden voice" by the BBC, and even today his music is everywhere (even WalMart, a certain indicator of cultural significance).  So let's go back to the beginning, to the album Five a Side, and Ace's one hit (#3).  How long, indeed.

Tomorrow, another long-tenured voice with lots of soul.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

Voices Without Peer, Vol. 5

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

We conclude this week's review of Voices Without Peer with a man simply known as The Voice.  He was a struggling artist in the late '70s, trying to get a record deal but having no success.  Perhaps the time wasn't right, or The Voice was ahead of his time.

His record label (Columbia) decided what The Voice needed was a band.  And so they forced The Voice on a Bay-area jam band that was trying to make a name for themselves.  The story goes that the band members weren't too keen on having a lead singer foisted on them with little or no input.  They liked their 8-minute guitar solos (the guitarist being something of a prima donna himself) and didn't see how a new voice would help all that much.

But record contracts being what they were, they had no choice.  At first, they limited The Voice to joint duty with their original lead singer.  But when concert goers insisted on hearing more of The Voice and less of the other guy, the die was cast.  And off they went on a 20-year rocket ride that saw multiplatinum album after multiplatinum album, sold-out tours, and a worldwide following.

Training for another tour, The Voice hurt his hips, and had to cancel.  The rest of the band was not very happy about it, and acrimony ensued.  VH-1 immortalized the conflict in an episode of Behind the Music that laid out all the bad blood for everyone to see.  There was a brief reconciliation, but it didn't last.  Eventually the band found a Filipino singer on YouTube who sounded exactly like The Voice.  A new lead singer was found.

They tour to this day, playing the old hits originally sung by The Voice and now done by the sound-alike.  But nothing diminishes the power, the emotion, and the soaring tenor that made the band who they are today.  I'm choosing a solo song done by The Voice after he left his band, Journey.  It's a bit raspier than it was 15 years earlier, but it's still got "it".  My Voice Without Peer to end the week, Steve Perry...

Yep, THAT'S a Voice Without Peer...

See you next week...


Pete

Voices Without Peer, Vol. 4

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Sometimes a Voice Without Peer is just an amazing Voice (see:  Dion, Celine), or an amazing interpreter of songs (see:  Sinatra, Frank).  There are times, however, when a Voice stuns you not specifically for its range, or its power, or even its quality.  Sometimes you just ask yourself "How is THAT voice coming out of THAT head?".

And that, my friends, brings me to today's Voice Without Peer.  I have asked myself the above question countless times and I cannot answer it.  It still just boggles my mind.  This one is a Brit, and a sorta doofus-y looking one at that.  But when he opens his mouth, Great Googly Moogly.  He had a run of hits in the late '80s, dance tunes and ballads, and had the good fortune to hook up with producers Stock/Aitken/Waterman, who also produced hits for Bananarama amongst others.

He became an Internet celebrity when a meme was created that posed as a normal YouTube video, then suddenly transferred the viewer to his first hit, a catchy dance tune that showcased the Voice but also exposed his lack of dancing skills.  He's got one move, and repeats it constantly.

The meme was called "Rick Rolling".  It became so popular that one year he actually recreated the experience during the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, where a float pulled up and these characters were singing some song, then things got surreal as the Voice stepped out.  It was a 3-D Rick Roll.

Rick Astley still has command of that Voice, although he's not actively engaged in the business.  He took his second shot at fame with tongue-in-cheek and was a great sport about it.  But whether you laugh with him or at him, don't deny that you're amazed that someone who looks like that can sing like that.  So, let's enjoy one of his later hits, an energetic dance tune that showcases the Voice Without Peer.

I'm always up for some Rick Astley.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

Voices Without Peer, Vol. 3

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Today's trip in the Time Machine lands on another Canadian voice that is without peer.  And I mean, without anything CLOSE to a peer.  It's one of the few voices that elicit an emotional response from me every time I hear it, regardless of the song.

This is the first time I ever heard The Voice.  I'm guessing The Voice was still in its teens when this video was shot, the uneasiness shown during the performance betrays the age of the singer.  But when it's time for the chorus, The Voice unleashes a power that would come to be considered one of the strongest Voices in popular music.

The Voice won an Oscar for a song that was refused at first, and then only sang it one time for the recording.  ONE TIME.  And by the way, The Voice is singing in a language that is not native.  French is the preferred tongue of this artist.

Guessed it yet?  Didn't think so.  It's Celine Dion, whose voice raises the little hairs on the back of my neck every time I hear her voice.  She's in complete command of her instrument, and can do whatever she wants with whatever material she's given.  Want proof?  Check out her cover of Cyndi Lauper's "I Drove All Night" and wait for the last minute or so--she takes a relatively high note and blasts it away with a higher third.  I get chills thinking about it.

She gets all sort of flak but that's what Divas get.  Aretha.  Mariah (who has more range but significantly less power).  But that is all jealousy from my chair.  Sit back and listen to a 19-year-old Celine Dion just kill a slow ballad that became her first US hit.  It's worth it...

Ooooh.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

Voices Without Peer, Vol. 2

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Our friends from the Great White North have been great trading partners over the years.  They send us timber, maple syrup, hockey, curling (ESPECIALLY curling), and a variant on our football that still jars me every time I see it.

One of the other great Canadian exports is music, and that brings me to the second name on my Voices Without Peer list.  No, it's not Gordon Lightfoot or Geddy Lee, although both of them certainly qualify as distinctive voices unheard on today's radio or streaming services.  No, I'm talking about a short, average-looking guy with pipes that go on for miles, and a great knack of interpreting songs as much as he sings them.

Frank Sinatra was like that-he would take an average song and make it great by his ability to inflect tones and set the mood.  I first heard him doing a commercial for Foxwoods Casino way back when, and I had no idea who it was and whether he was just doing a one-off.  Turns out he was already popular, just not as much so as he would become.

He was asked to contribute a track to a Spiderman movie sountrack a few years back.  He took the theme from the show, backed it with a big band, and created my favorite version of the song ever.

No import duties on this talent.  No tariffs or quotas.  We'll take as much of Michael Buble as we can get.  And go see the most recent Spiderman movie--even though the title character is a Brit.  We do indeed import a lot...

Truly a Voice Without Peer.  Another Canadian tomorrow...


Pete

Voices Without Peer, Vol. 1

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I grew up in the late '60s and '70s, when distinctive voices were the norm on the radio.  Let me hear one note sung by Freddie Mercury, Elton John, Alice Cooper, or Bruce Springsteen and I could tell right away.  There was experimentation going on because the art form was still in its infancy (less than 15 years old even in the early '70s).

As time went on, voices started to sound more alike.  Part of that was the production values-as synthesizers became more prominen--vocals took a back seat to the aural gymnastics going on in the foreground.  But even in that mishmash there were voices that stood out-you could tell they were something special.  This week I'm going to highlight those later voices that were so unique, so powerful, they made listening more enjoyable by their mere presence.

Today's Voice might not be familiar to everyone but I was an instant fan and remain one to this day.  His name is Peter Cox, and with his sidekick Richard Drummie formed a band called Go West in the mid-'80s.  They actually had a couple of hits, not the least of which was "King of Wishful Thinking" that was part of the Pretty Woman soundtrack.  I heard that song the other day at the WalMart, underscoring its permanent place in American Culture.

But I want to go back to the beginning.  The very first song from the very first album in 1984.  It showcases Peter Cox' amazing soulful voice.  And the high energy of the tune makes it another one of those "driving songs" I touched on last week.  So, here's our first exposure to Go West, and to Peter Cox, my first Voice Without Peer:

It's a crappy video, but who cares?  I'm just listneing anyway.  Oh, and there's a remix also.  Check out the first 20 seconds of this video where the VINYL is put on the TURNTABLE.

Another Voice Without Peer tomorrow...


Pete

The Greatest Cut-out of All Time

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Back in the day, record companies sold overstocks and under-performing albums at a cut rate.  They were called "cut-outs" because typically there was a punch mark in the album sleeve, or a hole drilled in the CD jewel case.  This identified the record as something of a "bargain basement" sort of thing, often by artists you've never heard of or artists you have heard of making terrible music.

I perused the cut-out racks religiously because sometimes you can find something in it that's worth investing (at the time) $2.99 or so.  Often times it was a pure crapshoot, with no idea whether you will get something worth your time and money, or if you get zonked.  It was sorta like Let's Make A Deal for music lovers.

Anyway, I came across a CD one day and I knew nothing about the band--nothing was familiar except for the producer of the record--Gary Katz.  Some of you may know that Gary Katz was the producer for all of the Steely Dan albums from the beginning up to and including Gaucho and had a reputation of creating unique sound from the artists he worked with.

So, I plunked down my 3 bucks solely on the strength of Gary Katz' reputation.   Certainly he wouldn't work with a crappy band, right?  At least SOMETHING on this CD would justify my faith.  And so I bought A Strange Kind of Love by a Scottish band called Love and Money.  To this day it remains the single greatest "cut-out" I ever bought.  It had whispers of Steely Dan, plus a strong vocalist telling stories about love and loss.

Today's selection from the Time Machine is the title track to that fabulous diamond in the rough.  The production is pristine, building from a single drumbeat to a more involved arrangement of guitars and keyboards.  You can almost hear Steely Dan if you listen close enough.  The band never attained the level of sales of this record either in Europe or here in the States.  But for a minute, with Gary Katz' help, they caught lightning in a bottle.  Experience "A Strange Kind of Love" for yourself...

Heading home from the IMA Summit in Orlando.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

A song to drive home with...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Missed a couple of days as I was making my way to Orlando by car.  But I'm going home tomorrow and thought I'd put up another great driving song.  This one is yet another instrumental, but of a completely different flavor than the Joe Satriani tune I posted last week.  This one circles back to band (Project?) that began in the '70s and continues to this day.

While a college student, I read Billboard magazine religiously.  Until I went to college I hadn't even heard of it--a sequestered upbringing, I guess--but once I got to dig into the charts and see who was moving up and who was moving out I was hooked.  And it was always cool to see advertisements from the record labels for upcoming releases.  I would know 2-3 weeks out when something was coming.  In the fall of 1976 a series of ads ran that showed a person mummified in recording tape.  The tagline was "All Wrapped Up In The Project".

What on Earth was that all about?  "The Project"?  Didn't sound like anybody I recognized.  As it turns out, the ads heralded the coming of The Alan Parsons Project, and its take on Edgar Allan Poe's works called Tales of Mystery and Imagination.   For the next 10 years The Project released an album a year, always on some general theme and always including instrumentals (usually 2, sometimes just one).

The ninth album from The Project was named Stereotomy, and the second instrumental is today's destination for the Time Machine (which, by the way, was also an album title by The Project that included a very good instrumental to open up the album.  I'll get to that somewhere down the line).  "Where's the Walrus" was one of those songs that caught you early and hung on for the rest of the song.  It had a driving beat, a great set of synthesizers, and a fabulous sax solo in the middle that led to a chaotic finish.  It's definitely top 10 in my Project favorites, and worth a listen (with the caveat that it may cause dizziness and difficulty driving or operating heavy machinery).  Enjoy...

Safe travels.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

Drive on...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

There is nothing like a great driving song.  Something to stir the insides and make the right foot more active.  They're best listened to late at night, when traffic is lighter and there are fewer, ahem, obstacles, to the ride.  We're driving on Sunday, but there will be no speed racing from us.

I recall a drive one night where for some ungodly reason I heard a remixed version of Brooks and Dunn's "Boot Scoot Boogie".  It had all sorts of studio tricks in it and I damned near hit the century mark as it went on.  If you've never heard it, it's worth your time:

But that's not the Driving Song I'm thinking about.  This one has no vocal, no studio tricks, and it wasn't played on the radio much.  But this song is dangerous to play while facing a long stretch of pavement with no "obstacles" in front of you.  It's by my favorite "shred" guitar player of all time, an artist who should always be considered when listing the best players of all time.  Listen, but don't drive or operate heavy machinery until you understand its effects on you.

There is a live version and it's just about the same.  The man can play.  Enjoy the weekend.


Pete

1+1=3 (or more)

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I am unapologetic in my love of dance music.  In the '70s, I loved the best of Disco, especially the graceful and flowing instrumentation (strings, choirs, etc.) that bands like Chic were so good at.  In the '80s, the music became more synthesizer-driven, but make no mistake--the core of dance music (a driving beat, a strong bass line, a killer chord progression) remained.

The '90s versions were more "aggressive" (due in no small part to the advances in drum machines, sampling, and recording technologies).  Artists like Madonna used these tools to create memorable songs that not only got you up off your chair but remain solid pop tunes 20+ years later ("Into the Groove" might have the greatest bass line of any dance tune, ever).

Even back in the Jurassic Period, the remix was part of any DJ's arsenal.  Back when, remixes were studio-produced, and were basically just longer versions of the original song.  Perhaps a verse would be added, or instruments changed (I have a 6 minute, 14-second version of Foreigner's "That Was Yesterday" that remains my favorite Foreigner tune ever).  As technology allowed, remixes became more sophisticated, as a song could be deconstructed and reconstructed as the remixer chose, retaining parts of the original, discarding others.

In the 21st Century no self-respecting pop star would just release a single without also creating (or encouraging others to create) alternative dance/club versions of the same work.  Remix artists have followings of their own these days, and artists actively seek them out to take a song and re-imagine it.  My personal favorite of these new Alchemists call themselves Cahill.

Let me demonstrate.  One of the world's biggest pop stars in the early 2000s was a guy almost no American could pick out of a lineup--Robbie Williams.  Williams was part of a UK "boy band" called Take That, then went out on his own.  Hit after hit, tour after tour, Robbie was The Man.  But like all artists (and all boy bands), Williams' popularity has waned (he even went back to Take That).  But nothing that has happened in the last 3 years will dim how big a star he was--except here in the USA.

In 2009, he released a single called "Bodies".  It "only" went to #2 in the UK (as opposed to his 7 #1 singles there).  It was actually #4 here, but by 2009 pop radio was not the superstar-making venue it was in the past.  Anyway, here's the song.  Feel free to cut out early if you wish-it's sorta "limp" compared to what follows:

Now, here's what Cahill did to it.  Same vocal, but with a completely different take.  It's an unabashed dance track that just obliterates the original in terms of energy and power.

Wowzer.  Here's an even more incredible example.  Before Taylor Swift became a true Pop Star (or Pop Tart, depending on your perspective), she was a "country" singer.  Here's her version of "Tears On My Guitar", a VERY "country" song:

Here's how Cahill re-invented it.  Give it a minute or two to get through the introduction and hear the strings and the accentuation of the chord structure leading into a ProTools compression of the pauses from the original vocal.  And there is a vocal ornament there that almost nobody can interpret, but it's a part of the chorus, the line is "Don't know why I do".  All they took was the end of "why" and looped it.  I consider this the most radical product of the remixer's art:

Cahill rules!

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Everyone needs a vacation...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

During my formative years, pop music was overtaken by "soft" music--less beat, less guitar, more vocal stylings, as they say.  One of the songs I couldn't escape was "I'm Not in Love" by a British band called 10cc.  It was languid (to say the least), and told the story of a man trying to convince himself he wasn't in love.

I knew practically nothing of 10cc, as their popularity was practically 100% across the pond.  Later, I was subjected to an earworm of a song called "The Things We Do For Love" (you remember--like walking in the rain and the snow/and there's nowhere to go/and you're feeling like a part of you is dying--that one).  What I missed because all of my exposure was from AM radio was some of their cheekier stuff.  Like today's nugget from the Time Machine.

The song tells the tale of a man on vacation in the Caribbean, and the characters and experiences he encounters along the way.  It was unique in that reggae wasn't much of a genre in the mid-70s, and while this song wasn't pure reggae it was flavored enough to be exotic.  I didn't hear it until I was a senior in college, and it went out of my awareness until just recently, when I heard it more than once on SiriusXM.

Anyway, enjoy your vacation--or, as the Brits say it--your "holiday".

Two of 10cc's members--Kevin Godley and Lol Creme--attained fame in the '80s as music video directors, turning out classic videos like "Every Breath You Take" for the Police" and the legendary (and now extremely dated) "Rockit" for Herbie Hancock.  They also released a song called "Cry" that was the ancestor of the face-morphing technique Michael Jackson used in "Black or White", but without the computers.

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Who Did it Better? Round 3 (three)

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I wanted to close out my "Who Did it Better?" arc with a three-fer.  It's rare that three different artists, with very different styles, cover the same song.  And all three are just about perfect.  OK, first up is the original, sung by the man who wrote it.  How does one improve on this?

Check out those suits!

But artists are brave, and although perfection is hard to improve on, Johnny Rivers gave it a whirl.  And man, did he hit it out of the park!

Anybody who can sing "Secret Agent Man" gets to take a swing at just about anything in my view.

But there was another version, this time done by a woman.  Plaintive, emotional, Linda Ronstadt brought just about everything the other two did, and added something they couldn't--a touch of twang.    Amazing.

So, there you have it.  Three artists, three interpretations, three classics.  Hard to choose, but the good news is that we don't have to!  We can enjoy all three.  I'll come back to Linda covering somebody else's song some other time.  I have a specific one in mind.  Think hard enough and you'll probably guess it.  But not now...

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Who did it better? Round 2

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Thought I'd begin the week with another two-fer, where co-songwriters performed their song.  So much of what a song sounds like depends on the producer, who structures the instruments, the tempo, and the general "vibe" of the song.  So, even if the two singers were similar in range and/or vocal quality the outcome  could be very different.

But if the two singers ARE different, the producer's input is magnified, and that brings us to today's Time Machine entry.  I chronicled the career of Kenny Loggins earlier in this space, as he was the "King of Soundtracks" in the mid-to-late '80s.  He had a writing relationship with Michael McDonald that produced "What a Fool Believes" in the late '70s.  In 1985 they had another collaboration, this time performed by both writers.

Kenny's version was self-produced, with help from David Foster (he was the guy who wrote the Canadian song for Africa, along with music for the 1988 Olympics and so much more) and Michael Omartian, who's best known for producing Christopher Cross, the multi-platinum debut album that spawned "Ride Like the Wind" and "Sailing".

Michael also self-produced, but got help from Ted Templeman, who did most of the Doobie Brothers' records, along with Van Halen's debut.  Michael's charted better.  Kenny's version was "different", mostly because it didn't have Michael McDonald.  Any song with Michael McDonald is better for it.  Anybody singing a song that Michael McDonald sang comes in second pretty much every time.

So, here's Kenny's version:

And here's the superior, in my view, version from Michael McDonald.  Because it has Michael McDonald.  Enough said.

Notice the subtle difference in how the song is structured.  That's the producer.  Notice the incredibly soulful vocal.  That's Michael McDonald, something no producer can add, unless the producer is Michael McDonald.  As Sam Mussabini said in Chariots of Fire "There's a saying in my game, son.  'You can't put in what God's left out.'"

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Who did it better? Round 1

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Let's go back (yet again) to the notion of cover songs.  Sometimes, a writer comes up with something that just isn't quite "right" for the particular album they're working on.  Or, they make friends with another artist and the two of them put something together.

There are dozens of examples of this, but today I'm going to put both versions up for your perusal.  Most of you know Bruce Hornsby as a soft rock specialist that writes semi-autobiographical songs about the Tidelands area of Virginia, especially Norfolk and Newport News.  People living in that area would scour lyrics of Hornsby's songs to figure out just who Bruce was singing about.

Bruce was "discovered" by Huey Lewis, and it was Lewis that helped Hornsby get a record deal.  I'm always flabbergasted when I hear that band X was turned down by every record company in town when they were starting out.

Even the Beatles ran the gamut and got turned down before Brian Epstein got them a "trial".  Regarding Hornsby, I would have signed him 3 bars into "The Way It Is", but somehow he sat waiting.  Huey helped and the rest is history, as they say.

Today's Time Machine is running the "local" route--we'll make two stops:  First, we'll hear Bruce's version of a song he wrote, then hear Huey's version.  There are similarities, and which one you like probably depends on how you like your mid-tempo tunes.  First up, here's Bruce:

A bit twangy, a bit more languid.  But bear in mind Bruce wrote it, so this is his vision.  Next, we hear Huey Lewis' version.  More in line with Lewis' other songs of this time, a bit punchier,   Your turn, Huey:

I like both of them, but then again I love Hornsby singing just about anything.  I give it to Huey by a nose, just because the arrangement was so upbeat.  Tough call.  We'll visit this "who did it better?" thing from time to time because there are examples where the original is better, others where the second time is better.  It's fun.

Enjoy the weekend.  See you Monday (17).


Pete

Well, it's about time...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I managed to get 21 posts in before I selected a single song from my favorite band of all time (besides The Beatles, who retired all the trophies).  I will come back to them many times over the course of the blog's tenure because, well, because they are unrivaled instrumentalists that took the best parts of rock, pop, so-called "prog" rock (short for "progressive", usually reserved for bands like Yes, King Crimson, and the like), and even jazz.

No, this band was a bunch of Southern California kids who grew up around each other.  they weren't without pedigree-one's father was a well-known arranger.  Two of them were brothers (joined later by a third brother after tragedy struck the eldest).  Like so many bands from the '70s, they built their sound around a distinctive vocalist, a high tenor who had soul oozing from every pore.

Even after that guy left, they found another childhood friend, this one had a very famous father who wrote soundtracks for a living.  You may have seen some of the movies he scored--"Jaws".  "Close Encounters of the Third Kind".  "Star Wars".  "Superman".  "Schindler's List".  the "Harry Potter" movies.

When they lost their first singer, they had a one-off album with a replacement who didn't pan out.  Then the famous composer's son joined the band, and their sound changed radically.  Less Pop and more Jazz.  More Soul (if that was possible).  And while they didn't sell as many records as their biggest album (which won 6 Grammys), the later sound was just as good if not better.

Most people never heard anything from them that wasn't on the radio.  And while some of those songs were multi-platinum, there was so much more to them than that.  I'm unsure where to even start, but I've made up my mind that I'll start at the end and move backwards.

Here's that band, with their SIXTY YEAR OLD lead singer.  From their 15th album, creatively titled XV with a song I'm just about 100% sure you've never heard before, but if it doesn't take you back to the band's heyday you need to re-listen.  Joseph Williams (son of John) testifies about how much he'd sacrifice for love.

By the way, Toto isn't named after the dog, nor is it about the bathroom fixtures company based in Japan.  It's from the Latin, meaning "all", since they had established themselves as studio musicians before they formed as a band.  The keyboard player (and son of that famous arranger, Marty), David Paich, essentially wrote and/or arranged most of Boz Scaggs' breakout album Silk Degrees.  You can hear the lead guitarist (Steve Lukather) playing the main riff for Michael Jackson's "Beat it" (before the bombastic Eddie VanHalen solo in the middle).  And on dozens of other songs from that era.

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Rock for the Jazz enthusiast

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I was 16 when I got a cassette of Steely Dan's Can't Buy a Thrill.  I bought it (from Columbia House, that fabulous membership club where you got 11 records or cassettes for a dollar, provided you bought two more at an incredibly high price.  I was interested in the stuff I heard on the radio--"Reelin' in the Years", "Do It Again"--but the more I heard the other cuts, the more I liked them.

Steely Dan isn't for everybody.  Their lyrics range from the mildly depressing to the extremely depressing.  They paint pictures of losers, criminals, and the underside of human existence.  But it's done so well, with such intricate musical structure, that you ignore the downer lyrics and feel the vibe.  They combined rock with jazz and baked a new pie that required a bit of time to acquire the taste, but it was all you wanted after you did.

A lot of their songs made the Radio ("Rikki Don't Lose That Number", "Aja", "Hey Nineteen", etc.), but like so many bands I love, the deeper cuts provide the best experience.  That's especially true of today's Time Machine offering.  It's from waaaaay back, and tells yet another story of someone gone bad or had something bad befall them.  But the upbeat tune masks it so well you willingly sing the lyrics anyway.  So I'll gladly get on the Wolverine heading for Annandale.  Come with me...

I'm not fond of their past couple of albums, but their output from 1973-1980 is top-tier.  See you tomorrow...


Pete

Aaaa-OOOOO...!

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In the late '70s, Rock was emerging from a period of softness, with singer-songwriters like Jim Croce, Cat Stevens, and Elton John were dominating radio.  Punk hadn't gotten widespread exposure yet, and hard rock (sometimes called Heavy Metal) was a niche product that didn't get played much.

But occasionally an artist would sneak subversive stuff past the long line of Pop songs and strike a chord.  In 1978, that artist was Warren Zevon.  Backed by a band of All-Stars (Linda Ronstadt, Don Henley, Glen Frey, and others), he burst on the scene with Excitable Boy, a rocking album with some truly disturbing lyrical content (a headless assassin coming back from the dead?  A line "then he raped her and killed her and then took her home"?

But that music!  It was juuuust accessible enough to be played on AM (and FM, at that time the destination for people seeking non-Top 40 stuff).  And it all started with "Werewolves in London", a tune about a dapper werewolf tearing up the English countryside (sample line:  "You better stay away from him/He'll rip your lungs out, Jim/Ha! I'd like to meet his tailor") .

A deep dive into Excitable Boy reveals a diverse range--from upbeat rockers ("Nighttime In the Switching Yard) to ballads ("Tenderness on the Block"), and today's mind-warper from the Time Machine.  Travel with us as we follow our intrepid hero, up to his eyeballs in trouble and seeking help from Dear Old Dad (or the Department of Defense, depending on your interpretation).  As he says it himself:  "So I'm hiding in Honduras/I'm a desperate man/Send Lawyers, guns, and money/the shit has hit the fan".

More from Warren down the line.  But we can't leave without recalling his philosophy on life.  When asked once by David Letterman what he was learning as he fought cancer (unfortunately, cancer won), Zevon said "Enjoy every sandwich".  Sage advice, indeed...

See you tomorrow...


Pete

'S'cuse me, blood...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

In the '70s and '80s a variant of pop music called Southern Rock (sometimes called Southern Fried Rock, Dixie Rock, and so forth) came into prominence.  One of the most popular bands of this era was 38 Special.  Combining a rock sound with radio-friendly themes (and a fabulous lead singer, Don Barnes, who brought their love songs to life), 38 Special racked up a whole gaggle of top 40 songs, like

"Fantasy Girl"
"Chain Lightning"
"Hold on Loosely"
"Caught up in You"
"Somebody Like You"

Man, did they have a run.  Then, Barnes went off the radar.  I always thought it was drugs, but it was more that Don wanted to do something besides 38 Special.  I was always reading Billboard or other trade magazines to find out when the band would get Don into rehab and then back to the studio.  It never happened (at least, not until way after the window of opportunity for the band had passed).

But they decided to go on without Barnes, and enlisted Max Carl as their lead singer for 3-4 years.  Most of their music was forgettable, but one single ("Second Chance") did well.  But today's Time Machine trip is another Max Carl vocal that might be my favorite 38 Special song ever.  It paints a story about Man's Favorite Sport--ogling women.  Sorry--it may be a bit misogynistic, but let's not let political correctness (31 years after the fact) detract from a fabulous tune.

So, let's all go to that Holiday Inn in Florida and put our money down 9 to 1 (like everyone else did) for our local favorite

Any song that includes the quintessential Southern phrase "'S'cuse me, blood" is a winner in my book.  And Don came back in 1992 and is still with the band, doing State Fairs, Casinos, and so forth.

See you tomorrow...


Pete

"I Have Seen the Future of Rock and Roll..."

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

I was a college freshman in the fall of 1975.  There were new experiences everywhere (get your mind out of the gutter, you reprobate).  Saturday Night Live premiered that season, and I watched the notorious "Bass-O-Matic" skit on a snowy 17-inch black-and-white TV.

Another cultural phenomenon occurred that fall--a rock star was on the cover of both Time and Newsweek (those were newsmagazines, for the younger crowd.  They came in the mail once a week and reviewed the past week's events.  They're mostly gone now).  One of the articles quoted a writer for Rolling Stone who famously said "I have seen the future of rock and roll".

All this praise for a little-known singer from New Jersey who had released his third album only weeks before.  But the product lived up to the hype, and all of us ran out to buy that third record.  We hadn't heard anything like it--raw, fingers on the pulse for young people, more poetry than what we were listening to at the time.

43 years later, Born to Run still resonates.  And today's destination for the Time Machine is the opening track from that record.  "Thunder Road" set us up for the rest of the album, with imagery of Saturday nights cruising small-town streets, and the pursuit of love.  Take a ride...

That rock critic who was so effusive in his praise of Springsteen?  Jon Landau, who became Springsteen's manager.  Perhaps he was a bit self-promoting?  Just a thought...

See you Monday (9)...


Pete

What? They don't sing?

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

It's difficult to imagine, but there was a time when instrumentals were actually popular music.  Not just popular, but chart-topping popular.  Movie themes (especially in the '60s), takeoffs on movie themes (a disco version of Star Wars, anyone?), TV shows ("Theme from SWAT", for example), or just instrumentals for their own sake.  It was a golden age for musicians without vocals.

Rock music had its own instrumental age.  Remember "Funeral For a Friend" by Elton John?  I saw him live once and he actually BEGAN the concert with that piece.  ELO made its mark with a song called "Fire On High" that was used by CBS for its sports programming for 3 years.  Ah yes--the Jurassic Period.

Today's trip in the Time Machine is from a master of instrumentals, Alan Parsons.  Back in the '70s and early '80s, each Alan Parsons Project album had not one but TWO instrumentals, one on each side of the vinyl/cassette.  Typically, one was at the beginning of the record, the other just before the end.  They were often short--under 3 minutes--but a couple were quite long ("I Robot was just over seven minutes).

Most of them are known only to Parsonsphiles (I just made that up), but one is known by almost every sports fan.  It's a piece called "Sirius", and it opens the album Eye in the Sky.  The Chicago Bulls appropriated the tune for their starting lineup introductions in the '90s.  I'm sure Alan enjoyed the royalties.

I always considered the Parsons instrumentals to be more like movements in a symphonic work, as the tone and instruments used set the table for the rest of the record.  And no work expressed that better than "Lucifer", the lead track from Eve.  Moody, with a high-energy orchestration those drums!) prepared us for the album's take on beauty and the pursuit of it.  It's instantly recognizable as a Parsons song and has always been one of my favorites.  Enjoy...

See you tomorrow...


Pete

Sage Advice From a Midwest Poet

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Yesterday we followed Bob Seger as he and his generation were Makin Thunderbirds.  Today, let's listen as another Midwest Icon delivers sage advice on how to be attractive to women.

I used to watch/listen to John Mellencamp for free.  He would perform in a grassy area near the Indiana University Student Union (known as Dunn Meadow).  He called himself Johnny Cougar then, and to be honest he wasn't all that good.  But like all successful rock stars, he honed his craft, found the pulse of Middle America, and made it big.

Back then, he was singing cover songs and some original compositions.  His first big break was "I need a Lover", which featured a great instrumental opening followed by the plaintive voice of John Cougar Mellencamp (his new iteration) saying "Some girl who knows the meaning of, uh 'Hey hit the highway'".

Later on, he became the Voice of the Midwest, with "Jack and Diane, "Small Town", and other songs that touched people of a certain age in a certain economic stratum.  He then became an artiste, taking up causes like small farms and became a painter.

But today's trip in the Time Machine is from an earlier time, the album Uh Huh, which still had some Johnny Cougar anger in it.  He gives a simple path to getting girls.  In particular, stay for the last line of the last verse, which pretty much says it all.  I dedicate this entry to my dear friend Phil Sullivan, who lied to some women we met at IU that he could play guitar, then spent three days locked in his room trying to learn...

See you tomorrow...


Pete

When in the course of human events...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

It's July 4th weekend, when we celebrate those brave souls who stood up to the King of England (arguably the most powerful man on Earth at the time) and demanded their independence.  It was a noble effort that began the "great experiment" that became the United States.

For those of us who came later, being American has evolved somewhat.  And one of the ways it's evolved is in the musical artists we worship and believe have their fingers on the pulse of what it means to be American.

It's a regional thing, however.  We don't have a single band or singer that we place above all others.  If you're a Northeasterner, you gravitate to Bruce Springsteen, or Bon Jovi. Southerners look at the Allman Brothers, or Lynyrd Skynyrd (or perhaps Toby Keith).  Texans have ZZ Top and Stevie Ray Vaughan.  West Coasters have Nirvana, or Fleetwood Mac, or the Beach Boys.

I grew up in Indiana (after being born and living 10 years in southwest West Virginia, what I learned later was called "oppressed Appalachia".  When I moved to a small town north of Fort Wayne I latched on to the Midwest icons--John Mellencamp, Chicago, etc.).  But the guy who really spoke for the industrial heartland--the place where small towns had factories that built parts for Detroit--was Bob Seger.

One of my true regrets was that I never got to see Bob Seger during one of those 7-night, sold-out runs he'd do at Pine Knob (the outdoor amphitheater north of Detroit), or, in the winter, a week's worth of concerts at Joe Louis Arena downtown.  I've heard the live recordings, but it must have been amazing to be there.

Which brings me to today's Time Machine entry.  A song about Detroit and what it did for the United States.  A lifestyle that we all aspired to have one day, but now see it only as a memory.  Americans are nothing if not resilient, and while Detroit lies in ruins it may return someday.  Until then, we have Bob Seger telling us what was and what might be again by saluting an American original...

Happy 4th, everyone.  Recall the wise words of Benjamin Franklin, who said of the Declaration "We must all hang together, or surely we will all hang separately"...


Pete

Cover songs? I thought yuu hated them...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Way back when, a couple weeks ago when I started this journey, I laid out some ground rules for my tastes in music.  One of those "rules"was that I didn't care much for cover songs, thinking that the original artist had most everything covered when they created it.

But after further review (as they say in the NFL), there are some cover songs that do create something different than the original.  In my meager defense I was thinking about cover songs where the covering artist sticks close to the original material, and tries to use instrumentation or their voice to create something different.

Truly outstanding cover songs (like "Roll Over Beethoven") take the original song and turn it inside out.  That's what today's Time Machine entry does.  Many of you have seen either the original stage production of Guys and Dolls, or the movie version with Marlon Brando and Frank Sinatra.  You may have seen the stage revival with Nathan Lane.

Towards the end of the show there is a meeting at the Salvation Army-like headquarters.  Nathan has strong-armed his hoodlum buddies into going as part of his bet with Sky Masterson (who bet Nathan that he could make young member of the Save-A-Soul branch fall in love with him even though he wasn't really interested--at first).  The hoods confess their sins in a rousing number "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat".  Here's the original Broadway version:

In 1992, Steve Martin starred in a little-seen movie called Leap of Faith.  He played one of those traveling preachers who "healed" audience members to spur contributions.  One night, an audience member actually WAS healed, leading him to question his existence and whether God was actually working through him.

The soundtrack had a variety of songs, but the best of them was Don Henley (ex-Eagle) and his version of "Sit Down You're Rocking the Boat".  It's completely different, a much more languid pace without the manic "Sit Down! Sit Down! Sit Down" of the original.  It's a fabulous tune.  Enjoy your trip to heaven on that tiny boat...

Hope you have a long and joyous Fourth of July weekend.  I'll be back Monday (3) with some truly Amurican music...


Pete

"Ah Ha! Pronoun Trouble!"--part 2

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Yesterday, we played voyeur to Rupert Holmes and his relationship problems.  One too many men, and a problem with "Him".  Today, we find the late '60s supergroup The Monkees having similar pronoun trouble, but this time it's with an evil woman who treats Micky Dolenz (the lead singer on this track) badly.  More on that in a second.

Some denigrate The Monkees--calling them the "Prefab Four" and throwing shade at their lack of songwriting skills at the beginning of their  existence.  But the 4 members of the band had skills, and those became more apparent as their career unspooled.  

The TV show was cast before The Monkees existed, with an ad in Variety asking for Wild Boys 18-21 years old.  Mike Nesmith was the only one who actually saw the ad.  Micky was skeptical, since he was a veteran of showbiz, being the title character in the TV series Circus Boy.  Davy Jones was a stage performer, and was nominated for a Tony Award playing the Artful Dodger in a Broadway production of Oliver!.

Peter learned of the auditions from a friend of his who played the coffee shops in Greenwich Village.  The pal didn't make the cut, but shed no tears for him--it was Stephen Stills.  Mike didn't need the money--his grandmother invented Liquid Paper.  Micky was the son of a character actor (George Dolenz).  Davy was actually in England when the auditions were announced--he flew over and was cast on the spot.  There's a great YouTube video of their screen tests.  For the curious, it's at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63nhSFFFfJ4&t=43s

Back to today's Time Machine entry.  Another pronoun.  A feminine one.  Micky sings his heart out missing his girl who treats him terribly.  Or, put another way, "She" treated him terribly.

For those of you who want to watch Bugs eviscerate poor Daffy for almost 5 minutes, including the aforementioned Pronoun Trouble,  this clip is your huckleberry...

See you tomorrow...


Pete

"Ah Ha! Pronoun Trouble"...

Welcome to thatwasrockandroll.

Everybody has a list of songs that they just HATE.  Unfortunately, many of those are earworms, songs that you can't get out of your head no matter how hard you try.  Songs like "Afternoon Delight", "You Light Up My Life", "The Night Chicago Died", "My Heart Will Go On". You get the drill.

One of the Hall of Famers of Songs You Love To Hate is "Escape (The Pina Colada Song)" by Rupert Holmes.  God, how I despised that song when it came out, and if I hear three notes of it now it's like fingernails on a chalkboard.  It was a #1 song, and most of us dismiss it as a One Hit Wonder, and figured Rupert Holmes faded into obscurity afterwards.

But boy would you be wrong.  Galactically wrong.  Rupert Holmes has had an amazing career.  Born in England but raised in New York, Holmes decided to augment his singing career by writing musicals.  His first effort was to take an unfinished Charles Dickens story called The Mystery of Edwin Drood, later shortened to just Drood for Broadway revivals.

The production invited audience participation, to cheer the hero and boo/hiss the villain.  It also had a different ending each night, as Dickens didn't finish the novel and Holmes wrote multiple endings.  The audience voted on who was the killer and that actor got another song at the end of the play.  I saw The Mystery of Edwin Drood in 1985, my first Broadway experience.  I was a vote-tallier, as I was at the end of a row.  Betty Buckley (Broadway legend) was part of the cast.  Holmes won two Tony Awards.

He went on to write several more musicals over the years, some good, some not so good.  He wrote songs for Barbra Streisand and others, and continued to perform and release albums.  He's currently working on a book on how to kill your boss, and I'd love to see that turned into a musical.

But back to "Escape".  After the success of that song (which, by the way, was the last #1 song of the '70s, in 1979), he released another song.  It didn't get to #1, but it did get to #6 on the Hot 100.  Which brings us to today's Time Machine trip.  A song titled after a pronoun.  A masculine pronoun.  Another earworm.  Join us as Rupert struggles with a second male in his relationship.  And what to do about "Him"...

By the way, the title of today's post is a reference to a classic Warner Brothers cartoon, in which Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny are interacting with Elmer Fudd to determine what hunting season it is.  Duck Season?  Rabbit Season?  And which one should Elmer shoot?  Daffy ends up on the short end of each interaction.  At one point, Daffy demands they run their lines again, breaking the fourth wall and walking through the process by which Daffy gets his bill blown off.  Worth an investment of 19 seconds...

See you tomorrow...


Pete