Get Busy Living, Or Get Busy Dying Before Age 30. (Nevermind The Instruments, Here's The Sex Pistols.)

*DISCLAIMER*: Death is a very touchy subject. In the following, I am not poking fun at death, or wishing death upon anyone. The following is written quite tounge in cheek. (Not that it needed to be said, but also covering my bases. In a world where the Jonas Brothers can grace the cover of the once fine music magazine that is Rolling Stone, anything can happen. Right?)

John Simon Ritchie. Lets look at what you offered the music world, shall we? Well, um.....hold on, I'm sure there's something....oh, wait! you started out in the would-be great band Flowers of Romance (with Keith Levene who would later form PiL, and Viv Albertine who formed The Slits), but they kicked you out, and then disbanded before ever even playing a show live. Then you latched on to the Bromley Contingent, and in turn forced your way into the Sex Pistols, while at the same time forcing out a VERY compitent bass player in Glen Matlock (who after leaving formed one of my most underrated punk outfits of all time, The Rich Kids...), who by that point had already written 10 of the songs for the debut Sex Pistols album. You then changed to Sid Vicious, and changed your style to go with your new name. And then you showed up and attempted to plunk your way through the music that Matlock was kind enough to leave the band with your poor bass playing. Despite the fact that I could play bass better than you (at age 4), you got to be front and center at every show, and did your best to raise hell, even at the expense of your (already awful) bass playing, and your band's lack of musicianship. Yadda, yadda, yadda, you got hooked on heroin, bla, bla, bla, killed your girlfriend and then died of an overdose at age 21, bla, bla....

Wait! there it is. Sid's biggest contribution to the landscape of punk rock, or music in general is that he died. Not only that he died, but that he died in a fashion that truly was burning out. I'm not saying that Nevermind The Bollocks/Sex Pistols is, or was a bad album. I'm saying that it's nowhere NEAR the 42nd best record ever made, as Rolling Stone ranks it (Jonas Brothers, Jonas Brothers, Jonas Brothers.....), and Vicious' dying, and general behavior helps that rank. All of them do, but he was the king. John Lydon's post Pistols outfit (Public Image Ltd.) was inifinitely more interesting than the Pistols, but people don't know it because no one in PiL died before they hit 27. I've had a sore thing for the Pistols for a while, so I'm picking on Sid, but I'm not biased, and it's not just about him....let's take a stroll down the lane that has the ever so popular argument "Burning Out > Fading Away?"...please join.

I had to be about 11 or 12 (I think I was 11, because I had just gotten into girls, and this all ties together, but not right now.) when Kurt Cobain's body was found. I remember thinking 'Well, that sucks, 'cause Nirvana won't be able to make music anymore'....and that was it. I mean, at that age, all I knew was that Nirvana wasn't bad, and Kurt WAS Nirvana (I didn't realize that Novoselic and Grohl formed one of the best rhythm sections ever until like 6 years later). Little did I know that Cobain's death would turn the group into something that it wasn't. I'm not going to be too hard on Nirvana. Call me age-ist, or what have you...but it's the 90's child in me that won't allow me to be too hard on them, but to get a feel for what I mean. I see a kid, about 14, wearing a Nirvana tee 2 months ago. I casually feel him out by asking what his favorite songs are. He replies "Smells Like Teen Spirit", because it "moved him". Really? great critical work there, Lester Bangs. So, being the curious guy I am, I play dumb and ask if he remembers the name of the drummer in Nirvana, because by golly, I just plain forgot. I know he's got some band now though, something Foo? something about fighting? Five for Foo Fighting? I just don't know. The kid gives me a blank look, and states "I have no idea. I only know the lead singer..." The point is this, Cobain dies, Nirvana gets appreciated. Scratch that. HE gets over appreciated to the point where Nirvana's appreciation means nothing. Not just Nirvana, but the entire music scene of Seattle for a while. I read an interview with Matt Dresdner (Producer from Seattle, formerly of the band The Gits, which had it's own tragedy when lead singer Mia Zapata was murdered in 1993...also at age 27. ALSO, Kristen Pfaff, bassist for Hole died in 1994 of a heroin overdose....yep, at age 27.), and he said for a while, with the death of Cobain, it was hard to make any headway musically in Seattle. Am I blaming Kurt for setting back the music of an entire scene, or coast? Probably not, that's a bit unfair, even for me...but it makes you think. I would say that better music eventually came out of it, to be honest, I mean as one example, Hole's 'Live Through This' was the last time Courtney Love was sane enough to do anything relevant in music (aside from the underappreciated 'America's Sweetheart' solo effort in 2003), and it was brilliant. And that's saying a lot, considering that the album was cut with her on the brink of insanity.

Strike me down for this, but I don't like any Rolling Stones alum that's post-Brian Jones era. I just don't. TSMR is my last, and most favorite stones album. The guy was a genius. Here's the difference between him and Kurt, even though both were on their way down when they died at 27, Jones was out the door with the Stones, and they carried on greatly without him. Because Nirvana couldn't carry on without Kurt, it leaves so much more to the fan's short memory. I won't go into, or dwell on Joplin, Hendrix, Jim Morrison, etc. But I'll attack a different side of musician deaths. There's the cult deaths. The artists that weren't super popular in life, but got cult followings in death. These interest me most. Nick Drake, Tim and Jeff Buckley (although Jeff died AT 30, he's more than worth mentioning), Gram Parsons, and from my generation, Bradley Nowell.

Working backwards, I'll be the first to say that Sublime is not, and never were THAT good. They were a solid band. When Nowell died of an overdose in 1996, I didn't even know or realize it until much later. But I can appreciate the fans of Sublime now, because they're not like the aforementioned kid with the Nirvana shirt. They KNOW the band, the songs, all of it. It's because they (Sublime) weren't thrust upon us as the band of our time the minute Bradley died, and we can respect the fact that we got to choose for ourselves. As good of a year as 1994 was for music (Stay with me, I know I'm jumping around a lot...but would you rather read this, or that article on the Jonas Brothers in RS? Nope. Not letting it go....), Jeff Buckley had probably the BEST overall record (Grace), which turned out to be his first and last official record, as he drowned just two years later. Buckley never gets the Nirvana treatment. But, is that better, or worse? Better question of burning out vs. fading away, I think, is being loved vs. being respected. Buckley, Sublime, Nick Drake...they're more respected than loved, and their deaths just added to the level of respect they got. Cobain, Morrison, Tupac are much more loved. And as we've all loved, we know love can be blind. Trust me. I'm a Minnesota Timberwolves fan. Tupac...here's another Rolling Stone debacle of music. On their 100 greatest artists of all time, 'Pac is 86. In their 500 greatest albums ever made, guess how many 'Pac has? Zero (he is the only artist in the 100 to not have at least one album listed in this book). So, we're to believe that one of the greatest 100 artists that has ever made music did not make one aesthetically important record? blind love in and of itself isn't always a bad thing, but it becomes bad when it's at the expense of the common sense of the music industry. Hip hop fans will face it, even for a west coast MC, Tupac was sub par. Period. I never cared that he fancied himself as some young, militant version of Langston Hughes (And in defense, his poetry books are not that bad at all...), because he was just not great at what he was, which was a rapper.

So, is it indeed better to burn out, or fade away? I guess it depends on a.) how you burn out, b.) what you've done before burning out, and c.) what respectable options lay for you as you fade away. Stevie Wonder is the prime example of this. Look, the guy hasn't made a solid album in maybe 25, 30 years. But, what he did when his star was the brightest more than makes up for it. He can make 15 Hotter Than July's if he wants, it doesn't matter because Songs In The Key Of Life (and anything else he touched from about '68 to '77) trumps that. So, it's better that he's fading away, no matter what Jack Black thinks. Fading away can be respectable, and not an entirely bad thing, if you do it right. Phil Spector could have just sat in his mansion from like 1969 on, and he would have had his career cemented, but instead, he comes out, ruins a Ramones record, ruins an Ono record, and then shoots some chick. (um. allegedly. But, really? do we have to say that anymore? I mean no one on the planet loves guns more than Phil Spector. Charlton Heston is pretty sure that Spector shot that woman.) So, he went from fading away to burning, to embarrassment. It's all in how you do it. So, I'll look back in 30 years and see what becomes of the prominent geniuses of today's music. Jack White, Kanye, be warned. Fading away is a viable option when the alternative is considered.

Now if only the Jonas Brothers would fade away.

Only God Knows Why

In the wake of Kid Rock's latest chart topper "All Summer Long" from the "Rock and Roll Jesus" album, I find that, as a fan of the Kid, I find myself defending this true American original at every turn. I know what you are thinking, 'ol SuperV is just out to find a niche of coolness in this white trash rapper turned outlaw in a misguided attempt at making sense of this record selling phenom. Well, if I had any idea what that statement meant, I wouldn't dare trying to justify this "straight out the trailer" rock and roll superstar. But whatever your inclinations may tell you about Kid Rock, consider if you will my defense of what might be the greatest rock and roll star of our generation.

Let's start with this one all you scoffers of the American Bad ass - name me one artist (past or present) that has progressed from rap (hip-hop if you will) on to hard rock then dabbled in ballads and blues before finally kicking the door down with some outlaw country. Not to mention the fact that he has now reversed the trend and ventured back into rock. Anyone? ? Well don't hurt yourself cause there is only one - his name is Kid Rock. Or Robert James Ritchie for all the homeboys from Detroit. Now I'll admit, I'm not really a huge fan of the rap - so when "Devil Without A Cause" exploded on the scene, I wasn't exactly hooked. That was until I heard a slow song near the end of the album called "Only God Knows Why." Wow - this dude can sing (and play guitar and piano) and has a really unique voice. What appeared to be a cheap solo version of Beastie Boys/Aerosmith/Run DMC conglomerate may have some real talent after all.

"History of Rock" is the next compilation for the Kid and now he starts emphasizing that he is the American Bad ass - self proclaimed rock star. We all know that all rock stars let everyone else know they are rock stars. Some just not as in-your-face as the Kid, but hey - maybe this is what Rock needs somebody who isn't afraid to be larger than life. During the "History of Rock" era, by the way - the Kid just happened to guest star in one of the greatest cinematic achievements of all-time - "Joe Dirt." Now the Kid can act? Sounds like a 21st century Elvi . . . . ok, even I won't make that comparison.

"Cocky" was probably my least favorite album, with one exception - a killer duet with rock's princess Sheryl Crow. How many times have you heard this song during karaoke? Well, if this wasn't enough, at this point the Kid decides to get hitched to the hottest sex goddess this side of David Hasselhoff - Pamela Anderson. Did I mention Pamela Anderson? - Yeah, Kid Rock bagged it. Still not convinced - read on my feeble minded followers.

For whatever reason, perhaps still reeling from all the sex with Pamela Anderson, Kid decides to change direction. Teams up with Bocephus for a Crossroads that is still the most watched program in CMT history. And to boot covers a David Allen Coe song to boot! (Single Father was the first Kid Rock tune to hit the Country charts). Who else can make this kind of transition?

Well, if you're reconsidering the Kid - you gotta hear his self-titled album. On this one, Rock blazed the blues trail and even laid down some New Orleans flavored licks on what I consider my personal favorite of the Kid Kollection. Enter "Rock and Roll Jesus" and Kid Rock stands today with the #1 selling record of the year. This album features a stripper-oriented tune called "So Hott" a retrospective ballad "Amen" and a sampling masterpiece - see Shoe about Warren Zevon - "All Summer Long." Who else could get away with this???? nobody. Kid gives shout-outs to everyone from "No-Show" Jones to ZZ Top, Reverend Run to Liberace. Original, brah.

Been alotta cheap talk but I rock stillFrom the streets of Shanghai back to KnoxvilleSittin' high on a mountain top holdin' shop spreadin' the good newsBeen alotta false prophets and quick hitsAnd a lot of unAmerican bullshitBut the time has come to settle and the devil's gonna make u chooseAnd just like a cold wind blowin' can u feel me comin' for uJust like a freight train rollin' packed tight full of rhythm and blues

So, if ya still hate the Kid - I don't know what else I can do for you. You want diversity, hot chicks, respect for elders, workin' for the troops, movie stardom, money-making, rock star superpower? No one else can walk that walk. He's the Bullgod, Cowboy and Bad Ass all rolled up into one. You think he's a fake, poser, trash, imitator . . . . . like the Kid says, "I'm a lowlife, livin' the high life" Keep foolin' em, Kid.

Stroh’s with Steven & Joe, Mike Love Hitting On My Girl, The Plastered Kansans, and Getting Out Alive

Yeah, I’ve been around awhile. At 52 I’m the elder statesman of the RHT contingent, thus my experiences are, shall we say, a little more seasoned. I know, I know, you can’t believe I’m 52. Don’t let my boyish charm and girlish figure fool you, though - it’s true. But I both kid and digress. My point is that I’ve been around long enough to have witnessed some pretty extraordinary things in the Rock ‘n’ Roll world. I’ve had a life that has included several serendipitous encounters as well as a few interesting happenings at Rock ‘n’ Roll Shows. You know, those “in the right place at the right time” deals if you will. And now, my attempt to share a few of these hopefully interesting anecdotes.

I’ll get to the really memorable experiences in a bit, so bear with me. Settle in, for this is a l-o-n-g post. First, some quick thoughts. I’ve attended well over 300 concerts in my life, and I’ve been fortunate enough to witness The Eagles “Hotel California" tour, Brian Wilson’s “Pet Sounds ” tour, Peter Frampton’s “Frampton Comes Alive” tour, Elton John’s “Yellow Brick Road” tour, and the recent Eric Clapton/Robert Cray tour that completely blew me away (mostly long blues numbers). In the early 80’s I saw R.E.M. with my buddy Goose at a gym in Springfield, OH that was attended by maybe 150 people tops. Michael Stipe was so shy he sang with his back to the audience or behind the drum kit most of the night. They didn’t have enough original material so they covered songs like “Born to Run”. In retrospect, an unbelievable night.

I’ve seen Paul McCartney several times, but the night 16 of us rented a suite at The Schott was the best. I’ve seen Springsteen, Bob Dylan (opening act - The Alarm!!!), and Jimmy Buffett several times. Trust me, even if you’re not a Parrothead it’s an experience every music fan needs to have at least once. Green Day was a great show, and the fact that My Chemical Romance kicked things off just made it all the better. I went to an REO Speedwagon show at the Fairgrounds Coliseum in C-Bus once circa 1976 and they had two opening acts - The Babys and . . . wait for it . . . The New York Dolls. The Dolls opened, and little did I know what this soon-to be legendary punk band would later become. All I saw was a bunch of dudes with a lot of make-up, 6-inch high heels and spiked collars around their necks. REO looked like The Backstreet Boys by comparison.

You’ve already heard about James Taylor and the night he “lost” his jacket at Blossum. Fun night right there, especially since we didn’t get arrested. Hell, I went to the Electric Light Orchestra tour with all the lasers and the giant spaceship. It’s a pretty surreal experience to have a good buzz going and then look up and see these huge laser-made butterflies and moths flying over your head. Around 1977 a buddy asked me at the last second to go see a guy at what is now The Newport in Columbus. I’d never heard of the guy but, what the hell, the ticket was free. Suffice it to say Warren Zevon was pretty good. There’s probably a million people who make this claim, but I had tickets to see Lynyrd Skynyrd in late 1977 while living on the Ohio State campus. I’ll never forget when my roommate woke me up with the news about the plane crash. Being a poor college student I returned my ticket and got the $12.50 back. What a dumbass.

Some of the best shows I’ve ever seen were in small venues. Former Replacement Paul Westerberg rocked The Newport like a madman. A friend of mine said it was the first time he ever felt like he was watching a real rock star. Steve Forbert at a bar in Newport, KY was special, as were the Eels at The Odeon in Cleveland (twice). They Might Be Giants always put on a hell of a show, and watching legendary grunge rockers Mudhoney at tiny Café Bourbon Street in Columbus in early June was an extraordinary experience.

Alright, enough rambling. Sorry if I’ve bored the life out of you. Hopefully you’re still with me though, because I’ve saved the best for last.

At some point a bit before The Who tragedy at Riverfront Coliseum (my dates are a tad fuzzy - my Dad refers to the late 70’s as “my hazy period.”) I saw Led Zeppelin there. The whole festival seating/general admission thing was obviously in place, and it was pretty ugly. We got there real early, around 2:00 PM in order to get in line. The coliseum’s policy at the time was to open just 4 doors at around 6:30 PM (again, hazy) for the 8:00 show. We were right up front, and a little after 5:00 PM things began to get ugly. Remember, 4 doors for 12,000 people. Idiocy. People in the back began pressing forward and those of us in front were getting crushed against the doors. Guys were begging the security inside to open up, but they weren’t listening. A police chopper suddenly appeared and began hovering about 30-feet up, and a guy with a bullhorn was telling people to back up. Nobody was having it, and at one point I remember a beer bottle being thrown at the chopper and shattering off its side. By this time I was seriously in fear of not making it out of there. My arms were pressed against my sides so tightly that I couldn’t raise them. Occasionally my feet would rise off the ground and I’d have to completely go wherever the crowd took me. Scary stuff for sure. The worst part was when the crowd would start to lean and you feared getting crushed. It was hard to breath and several people passed out but obviously didn’t fall down. Surreal as hell. Finally, an ignorant security guard did a dumb but ultimately good thing - he cracked a door open, ostensibly to tell somebody when the gates would open. At that point the door was ripped open and the crowd poured in. Glass was flying everywhere, and as I was being pushed through a guard reached out and ripped a flask from my neck, nearly slashing my throat. No tickets were taken and chaos ensued. After I got away from the rushing crowd, I sought out a cop and yelled, “If these people don’t start opening more doors somebody’s going to get killed here!” A prophetic statement, unfortunately. When the news came down months later that 11-people were killed at The Who show, I wasn’t surprised. I knew exactly what had taken place.

Oh, and by the way, I scored a front row spot. Hey, it was Zep.

In the late 70’s I went to see The Beach Boys, again at Riverfront Coliseum in The Natti. It marked the return of Brian Wilson, quite a big deal at the time. Anyway, we were once again right down front. From the get-go Mike Love was paying special attention to my date, at one point getting down on one knee and singing a song right to her face. I don’t remember the song, probably because I was too busy watching the security dude and figuring my odds of getting a shot at Love’s nose. Eventually Love actually sent a guy down to ask if she was interested. She said no and he never came close to us the rest of the show. Bizarre experience.

Back when the band Kansas was huge, I caught them down at Rupp Arena (or was it Freedom Hall?). Rick Derringer opened up and dazzled the crowd with his guitar work, then the J. Geils Band did about an hour of stuff from their “Monkey Island” record. Good stuff. After Geils finished we waited patiently for Kansas to appear. And waited. And waited. For an hour and a half we waited. Finally, just when a riot was about to break out, there they were. It was plainly obvious from the start they were stoned out of their minds. Or drunk. Whatever it was, they were definitely shit-faced beyond words. Stumbling and tripping about, slurring and/or forgetting lyrics, just tanked. The crowd started throwing things, and with me being down front again I caught a few projectiles to the back of the melon. After about 10-minutes of this mayhem they staggered off stage, never to be seen again. They performed approximately 3 and a half songs. Just when the crowd was about to burn the place down, Derringer re-appeared. Just him, no band anywhere. He went to the front of the stage and just started playing. The crowd slowly started to get into it. He ripped through about 20 songs ranging from Purple Haze to My Generation, then left to a rousing ovation. Just great, great stuff. I’ll never heard “Carry On My Wayward Son” since without thinking of that night. And to this day, Derringer is a God to me.

Finally, one last story. May I have a show of hands from those still awake? OK, good. Back around 1980 Aerosmith was on a bit of a downward spiral. Something about drug addictions and whatnot. Anyway, it was after “Dream On” but before the album “Permanent Vacation” marked their return to prominence. A friend of mine was a regional roadie, one of those guys who doesn’t travel with the bands but works a certain area where he helps set up shows and the like. Well, he had backstage passes to Aerosmith and asked if I wanted one. Well, yeah. I watched the show (not so good actually - something about drug addictions and whatnot) then headed backstage for the festivities. I don’t really know how to explain it other than saying it’s exactly what you’d expect it to be. Lots of girls, drugs, alcohol, and things I didn’t recognize and haven’t seen since. Rock and Roll decadence at its highest form. Back in those days I blended right in. My hair was as long as theirs and I looked like a taller Charley Manson, minus the God complex and murderous intentions. I worked my way over to Steven Tyler and struck up a conversation, probably saying something witty and insightful like “nice show” which incidentally would have been a complete lie. He looked at me through glazed-over eyes and offered me a beer (for the record, it was a Stroh’s). One thing led to another and I ended up on a couch sitting between Tyler and Joe Perry. There once existed a picture of me, between those two, all three of us holding up a beer for the camera with half-crazed smiles on our faces. Later, in one of the dumbest moves of my life, I gave the picture to a girl I was dating. She displayed it proudly on here apartment wall. Sadly, when we had an ugly break-up, she hit me where it hurt most. She burned the picture. For years I waited for her to show up and say she had really kept the picture, then hand it to me with a smile. Never happened, but there’s still hope, right? Right? Shit.

So there you have it, some highlights from my life attending live shows. You now know that Kansas blows, Rick Derringer is cool, Mike Love is a tool, I’m lucky to be alive, and I’m a fool for getting reimbursed for that Skynyrd ticket and giving away the greatest picture I’d ever had taken. Not that still think about it . . . every day . . . several times.

True stories all. Later.

My Age Again: An Argument For (And Against?) Blink 182.

Trust me when I say this, I'm jealous of your generation. Oh, you know which generation I'm talking about. The generation that was about 14 when the Beatles invaded America. The generation that were on their way to being seniors in high school when the summer of love hit. The generation who danced during Woodstock, and cried after Altamont. Look, I'm happy to be in my early-mid 20 phase right now. At this point, from a life standpoint, everything is perfect. But, from a music standpoint, my generation has suffered. We're in a weird spot. I mean, sure we can claim Nirvana, The White Stripes, and Radiohead (Not a fan, but I'll take 'em), but even that is flawed. Nirvana, who knows where their acclaim would lie if Cobain was still with us. I know that's an argument for another time, but think about it. The White Stripes are pretty much just a one man show. A showcase for Jack White to show everyone how incredible he is, and as big of a fan as I am, the talent balance in that band makes it hard to dodge the bullets. Here's another example. Rolling Stone has the immortals (100 greatest artists of all time), and while that list is flawed, of the 100, only SIX artist would fit into my generation's scope (counting artists who made their biggest impact post-1989): Nirvana at 27, Dr. Dre at 54 (although I'd argue that his work with N.W.A. and The World Class Wrecking Crew was very, very impactful, and that was pre '89), Radiohead at 73, Eminem at 82, Tupac at 86, and Nine Inch Nails at 94. So, what does that tell me?

I don't know if music is getting worse. I don't think so. I'm not one of those grumpy folk that is complaining that every genre of music is slowly dying out, and I truly don't feel that way. I just think that we 20-somethings are missing that amazing musical moment in our lifetime. Sure, we all remember the first time we heard Nirvana. And most of us remember where we were when we found out about Kurt's body being found. But if you take away Nirvana, are we totally lost? I would say no, but the new exciting thing in our generation has also been hip-hop. Which a.) we can't totally claim because the roots of hip hop were laid down way before I was even thought of, sometime in the 70's. And, b.) is quite possibly the most polarizing musical genre there has ever been, therefore it's phenomena isn't as widespread, or widely accepted as britpop, arena rock, etc. But, just when it seems as though all hope is lost, there's Blink-182.

I'll pause so that people reading this can take the time to stop laughing, and to possibly clean up the beverage that they spit out on the screen while laughing.

Done? OK, look...Blink 182 first off gets no respect, but I know why. They fed off of a genre (pop-punk) that never got respect, but they made it into an artform. It may have been hard to take them seriously to some, but I think they personified owning up to what you were, and living inside of your boundaries. You listen to the first 2 Blink albums (Cheshire Cat, Dude Ranch) and you tell me you aren't at least a little impressed. The first of the two was made when Travis Barker wasn't even in the band. Barker is possibly one of the greatest living drummers, because he drums like the greats still would if they were alive. He hits the drums as hard as Moon, but keeps rhythm like Bonham. Blink never claimed to be great musicians, but they were a tight band at the very least. With mainstream success comes mainstream hate. Did I totally like Enema of the State? No, not really...but it's one of those rare situations (I call it "The Nelly Effect") where your worst album(s) holds your best song(s). Adams Song is moving, deep, and I think it showed growth from the general potty humor that Blink usually put out. Potty humor that was again revisited on their best album, which was titled Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. By any measure that's a classic album. Well, by any measure of my generation. And here we are again. We may be whiny, but that's because we want you to get us. We dig why you dug the Beatles and even Jefferson Airplane...why can't anyone get why we dig Blink-182? we dig them because while they're not our Beatles, and Tom DeLonge ain't Brian Wilson, we need them. They remind us even now of a time when WE were 12, or 13, and our summer vacations consisted of going to a pool, or playing until it was dark (yeah, that's not dead either). And most of us remember when we heard they broke up. I was coming back from soccer practice in my 2nd year of college, and a friend told me. We went to her dorm room, and happily looked back on all of the good memories that their music triggered. It wasn't about them being geniuses (although I would argue that they could be seen as such from a melodic standpoint) in the same way the Wilson, Spector, or McCartney were geniuses, it was about for us, living in the moment with a soundtrack that they always offered. And it seemed like there was always a song that fit every moment.

Their side projects show their range. Boxcar Racer is my favorite. They made only one album in 2002, a year before Blink split, and it remains a favorite album of mine. Other sides like +44, The Transplants, and Expensive Taste also delivered big, and spanned different genres and styles. Angels And Airwaves breaks my heart a little bit. I have to admit it. I mean, their first album was OK, but it's not the same at all. Delonge has gotten to the point where he takes himself so seriously, that you wonder if he can make anything real or passionate anymore. Musically, he's talented enough to be anything he wants to be, and he chose aVa, which I can't fault...I think most of us just never wanted our hero to grow up. It works for some people, I suppose...my friends went to Warped Tour last week, and described the scene when aVa hit the stage. One said it was like you were in church. People stopped moving and just went to the stage and sat in silence while they played, jaws dropped. Sure, that's great, but that's not what I want out of my former Blink members. Forgive me for coming down on Delonge for trying a new musical direction, it's not that, it's just (Yeah, I saw the Dark Knight, and it was awesome...) "Why So Serious?". And then there's the argument of influence. Look, Blink influenced a whole heap of bands. Problem is, not all of them are good. OK, not many of them are good. Sum 41 was decent for about a month or 2, and the list of Blink copycats goes on. Without Blink there's no one offs like Cartel, Hit The Lights (Ohio natives!!! sweet!!! ummm....kind of...), and the like. BUT there's also no first Taking Back Sunday album (Classic.), there's no Fall Out Boy, who will be appreciated more 10 years from now, and despite the Beatle influence on it, there's no Panic At The Disco record to drink the kool-aid over. They made pop-punk what it is now, for better or worse. I mean, I'm not usually one to scream influence for influence's sake, but in this case, I have to. I'm biased, I can't help it. This is a band that we 20 somethings can relate to. A band that we hold on to, because it's all we have that's not attached to Nirvana. And when Tom Delonge gets tired of this spiritual awakening, and gets them back together (because he will), We'll all be a little older, but we'll still tune our ipods in and have them as the soundtrack to our generation.

VH1 Rock Honors: The Who

The Who were honored last night on VH1...and I'm pleasantly surprised at how well it turned out. I'll admit I was expecting VH1 somehow to screw this up since their efforts have been concentrated on cheesy reality programming rather than music lately. But I digress; for the most part it was really good.

Foo Fighters opened the festivities with "Young Man Blues" & "Bargain." Very good I thought, but then again I'm a mark for anything Dave Grohl is involved in. The Foo Fighters are one of the Top 5 straight-ahead, full-throttle rock & roll bands today, bar none. Top notch; great sound.

Next up was Incubus. I'm not a huge fan, so here lied my first doubt about the show. Boy was I wrong! They absolutely nailed "I Can See For Miles." My bad. They sounded incredibly like the original. They also performed "I Can't Explain" on the show. The Flaming Lips then came on stage, with Wayne Coyne in his plastic bubble. They performed "See Me, Feel Me" and really did not sound bad. I'm not real familiar with Flaming Lips, & was a little put off by their stage antics. The drummer did pull off the Keith Moon stage exit though, knocking over his drum set. I might need to check out this band a little more...

Tenacious D performed "Squeeze Box" next. Yawn. Anyone else about tired of Jack Black yet? Kung-Fu Panda yer ass off the stage; this is a Rock & Roll show man! Just kidding...but you know what I'm sayin'? This put me ion the mood for a sandwich, & in doing so I missed the first part of what was probably the best performance all night: Pearl Jam's rendition of "Love Reign O'er Me." They followed that up with a great cover of "The Real Me," also from Quadrophenia. Ohhhhh, doctah! That was great! I enjoyed watching the guitarist jumping around like Pete Townshend during this number.

Next was Adam Sandler, doing a little ditty to the tune of "Magic Bus." I kept waiting for "Red Hooded Sweatshirt," but no dice. And now ladies & gentlemen....THE WHO!!! "Baba O'Reilly,"kicks ass. "Who Are You?" The same - Daltrey even got away with the F-Bomb on TV - sweet. "Behind Blue Eyes" was next - again just a treat to watch Daltrey & Townshend perform live again. Finally, "My Generation" closes the show, or does it? Pete grabs his acoustic while Roger grabs his coffee mug. They have something special for us. I don't know the name of this song, or if it was only written for this occasion, but it brought a tear to my eye. I wish I could find a clip for you to see. A couple of lines go, "...one of us gone, one of us mad/one of us mean and one of us sad," as Daltrey points to himself & then then Pete for the final two nods. He ends it with, "...let's go have a cup of tea." A well-deserved cup of tea sir, I might add.

Great show. Great band. Great songs. Great respect. Thanks VH1...and keep this kind of programming coming.

How Relationships Prosper. Or, I Love You, But I'm Not In Love With You (Or Your Horrible Record Collection.)

"...No Springsteen is leaving this house! You can have all the Carly Simons..." - St. Elmo's Fire

I grew up in a pretty normal home I think. Two loving parents. Older, cooler siblings. Tight knit community. But, at a closer glance, something always stood out to me. My loving parents, who had been in love with each other since attending rival high schools in Harlem, had separate record collections. All of my Mother's vinyl was tagged with her name, and set off to one side of the player, and same with my Father's on the other side. That, for some reason always intrigued me. Even at an early age. I mean, here we have two loving parents who share a home, children, lives, etc. but their record collections are too precious to mix. My dad used to say it was a "Jersey thing", but I quickly learned that almost everything that my dad couldn't explain was a "jersey thing". But, I will say this, whenever we traveled to the east coast to visit relatives, I noticed this same thing. Record collections just don't mix. No matter how in love you are with a girl.

My father was/is this ultimate Jersey guy. He wasn't even born there, and probably didn't spend more than 15% of his life there...but it was the formative years that he spent there. About ages 8 to 17* (Stay tuned for a cool Jersey story), and it's never seemed to leave him. He's like this east coast folkie/hippie/jazzy/soul junkie, and it's never left. My mother was a hippie, sure...but she rocked a little heavier, and her soul was a little ummm....soul-ier. So, needless to say, my dad didn't want her Martha and the Vandellas mixing in with his Southside Johnny. And my dad, who claims that he swore off Dylan the minute he plugged in, would flip his lid if ANYONE bought any Bob Dylan into the house that wasn't one of his first 2 albums. Although he have a soft spot for Blood on the Tracks, which my mother bought him during their courtship. But, I'm sure he's never listened to it. So, I may be a jerk for saying this, but the separate record collection works in many ways.

First off, I've dated some girls who listen to Creed. Yeah, they exist. So, I mean what if one day I would fall madly for a girl who has wonderful traits, but horrible taste in music? Well, easy fix. Separate CD/Record collections. That way, when I have cool friends over that I want to impress, they won't make the mistake of thinking that Hoobastank special edition double disc is mine. But, this can work to her advantage too. If SHE wants to impress someone, she can just show them my music collection, which has not even the faintest traces of Scott Stapp. I mean, I'm not being elitist all the way. I've got some questionable taste too, but my misses are fun, and exciting. My guilty pleasures aren't even guilty, they're just hilarious. Plus, some of them are so obscure, people won't be sure if they're good or not. And some of them have cred. Do I own at LEAST 3 Olivia Newton John records? Maybe I do, who's asking? (Yes. Yes I do.) But, oh, wait....is that the same Olivia Newton John from Grease? Why yes it is! Hmmm....guess who's poor taste just got some credibility. Scott Stapp was never in Grease (there's a hair joke in there somewhere, but it's too easy.) And who doesn't love Falco? "Rock Me Amadeus" was a classic! Plus, have you seen that guy? He looked hilarious! And any German pop music gets instant credibility. I call it "The Kraftwerk Clause". Not to mention, Falco's dead, he got hit by a bus while he was (allegedly) on coke. So, a rockstar death = instant credibility. I mean, if you're going to have bad taste in some pop music, do it big. Don't go Jessica Simpson, that's too easy (especially after her complete disrespect for "These Boots Were Made For Walkin'" a few years back)...go Willa Ford. She's Jessica Simpson, but worse. When it comes to bad taste, you go big, or go home. Unless you're my wife and/or living with me. In which case, you go big, or I'll go to like a hotel or something.

I mean, I'm willing to bend and mix record collections if she's willing to throw out some of her horrible records. Even the horrible records by good artists. No, ESPECIALLY those. Look, I like James Taylor as much as the next guy, but I don't want New Moon Shine next to Mudslide Slim or Sweet Baby James. I'll bend there as well. And look, I'll say it...the only. ONLY Liz Phair album allowed around me is Exile in Guyville. Period. I let Whip-Smart pass once when I was trying really hard to get an indie-type girl to be into me, and I've never been the same since. I've got some Cure records that should have never seen the light of day (I'm looking at you, Wild Mood Swings) that I'd be willing to part with. Intermixing of record collections can also be good for a learning experience. If I'm reaching for one of mine, and I pull out one of yours, well, look....this is a good experience for both of us. But it's all about compromise and understanding. Also, despite my very first blog on this site, I'm not going to require you, or anyone to know who Lindsey Buckingham is, I'll settle with you being able to name one member of the E-Street band (and not "The big black guy"), as long as we don't force each other's bad music on each other. Even if we find it good, and can't understand why the other doesn't like it. You're not a Jay-Z fan? I (kind of.) Understand that, so when we're around each other, I won't play Reasonable Doubt, as long as you keep my ears safe from Joni Mitchell, who most people hate me for not being into. I'm sorry. My Mother would pull Court & Spark (from HER record collection of course) and play it like 4 times a week when I was like 8. I still can't get "Raised On Robbery" out of my head, and that is NOT Mitchell's finest moment.

Lastly, separate collections is good for one final thing: The breakup. We all know that breakups suck. They do. But lets not make them worse by custody battles involving music. I mean, just look at St. Elmo's fire. Leslie (played by Ally Sheedy, who is one of my top 5 80's crushes) was trying to make out with Springsteen AND The Pretenders. Come on....Pretenders II, maybe. But not the debut album. Pretenders II is even being generous, but I'd personally part with Learning to Crawl. Seperate music collections, and Alec wouldn't even have to fight over it. He'd keep his Pretenders, she'd keep her Carly Simon (which he apparently got her for her birthday. Depending on the Simon album, it'd be worth fighting for. If we're talking Playing Possum, or No Secrets, I'm claiming ownership through gift purchase rights. And I would fight to the death for The Bedroom Tapes.), and we all make off happy. Take my advice, guys AND gals, and live the dream. I once bought a vinyl copy of Weezer's blue album for a girl, and after the relationship ended, I did not ask for it back....but I have dreamed about it ever since. Every time a new, horrible Weezer song comes on the radio, I think about it. And what could have been if I had just kept 'em separated. But, I guess it's a Jersey thing.

*Cool story: I don't write about Springsteen much, because I'm too big of a fan. But, in about 2001, I was in a small bar/club in Jersey watching a local band. At about 10 p.m., Bruce casually strolls in, with a few members of the E Street Band. Because he IS Jersey, almost no one in the club made a ripple, as he went through the smallish crowd saying hello to the regulars. He then waited for the local band to finish, approached the stage, and asked if anyone minded if he played "just a few short songs". He, his band, and some of the local band then jammed, and played for what turned out to be around 3 or 4 hours in a small club, in front of only about 30 or 40 people. Needless to say, I almost fainted a total of 50 times during that night. I will never go to see Springsteen play again, because that was the best thing. Ever.

I am off to Charlottesville for the weekend. Enjoy it, fellas.

Sadly, I Am Not Steve Perry. And Other Random Facts.

I've got no real direction with this one, I've been kind of all over the place thoughts-wise, so bear with me. I just thought I should write something before I go and buy NCAA 2009, and then you guys won't hear from me for at least 2 weeks. I'm sorry. I'm 24, with some free time, and some losses to avenge. My first order of business will be searching for some poor sap who will play with South Carolina, and I will destroy him/her. I hate Steve Spurrier so much that I do this every year. Sad? possibly. Fun? Absolutely. Anyway. First off, Josh Hamilton. That was the greatest thing I've ever seen in a HR derby, but also the biggest letdown when he didn't win. I watched the derby at a little bar by my place, and while Hamilton was going nuts, the place was just electric.

After Hamilton rocked my world, one of the people I was with went over to the jukebox and stated that she was going to try an experiment. I don't often experiment with jukeboxes, so I was a bit nervous. Seconds later, though, the all too familiar start of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing'" poured from the speakers. And we watched people. We watched people slowly start to tap their feet along with the music. And then we watched people build up to the chorus. And then finally, we watched as pretty much everyone in the tiny bar sang along to the end of the song. So, it got me thinking...is this the ONE song that everyone knows at least one part to, and can't help singing along to? I mean, I think it's a fair assumption that at least most people know some part of this song. Even if it's only "Just a small town girl....", and how can you not sing along? Even Family Guy knows this: Don't Stop is the ultimate karaoke song. I can't think of anything that will challenge this, but I'll take suggestions. I mean, I'm only a casual Journey fan. I like them, but they're a "greatest hits" band for me. Meaning, some bands just may not have an essential "need to own" album for you, but you have to have their greatest hits. And with Journey, you've got to have the 2001, double disc version of their greatest hits, not the 1988 one. Why? well, the 2001 version has "Still They Ride" on it. And if that ain't Journey's GREATEST hit, then I don't know what is. I used to think REO Speedwagon was a greatest hits only band, but then I realized that I wasn't listening to their greatest hits, I was actually just listening to Hi Infidelity. It's a thin line. The Eagles are a greatest hits band, while Fleetwood Mac is not. Fleetwood Mac is not because no greatest hits collection of theirs has "Secondhand News" on it (more on that song later)....see where I'm going with this? Billy Joel could be greatest hits, while Elton John is obviously not. Bon Jovi, yes. Springsteen, no way. Run-DMC, probably. N.W.A., absolutely not. If I can grab your greatest hits and hear every song that I want to hear (give or take one or two), then hey....I'm good to go. But if you, even in 2-4 cd's (I'm talking about you, Bob Dylan) can't give me every song I love in one compilation, then I've got to seek out the individual albums.

The ultimate greatest hits band? Probably Gin Blossoms. I've got no basis for this, but I just got done road tripping, and as anyone from my generation knows, The Blossoms are perfect road trip music. Any band that's a "singles" band is usually good for road trip music. Goo Goo Dolls, Wallflowers (Which reminds me, Jakob Dylan's new solo album is top notch), etc.

Moving on.

Me and my music nerd friends sit around High Fidelity style and make really weird top 5 lists. It's cool, don't act like you guys don't do it too. So, we're so far reaching at this point that we thought up a new one:

Best lines to open an album.

That's a stretch, but when you're into lyrics like I am, if an amazing lyric opens an album, you'll get sucked in. Any references to your previous album score immediate points. For example, Fall Out Boy opened their latest album, Infinity On High, with the line: 'Last summer we took 3's across the board' ('But by fall, we were a cover story now in stores'...from the song "Thriller"), and that was easily one of my picks. It's the perfect mix of self deprecation, but also a bit of cockiness that makes it charming. Lindsey Buckingham opened Rumours with the line: 'I know there's nothin' to say/Someone has taken my place'....(From the aforementioned "Secondhand News"). This also got a vote from me, due to the fact that it is a tone setter. That set the entire tone for this album about horrible emotional distress, but he sings that song in a fun, lighthearted way (as is the trend with most of his stuff). I actually strayed from the popular pick of Patti Smith opening Horses with 'Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine'. Mostly because I think she opens all of her other albums with better lines, namely Wave and Easter.

I think my top pick though, although probably cliche' is Kurt Cobain. Maybe 3 times, but first overall, has to be the opening line to In Utero. Simply: 'Teenage angst has paid off well'. And indeed it had by that point, so can you blame the guy for bragging about it? He in general knows how to open an album, though. Nevermind ('Load up on guns, bring your friends') started with a bang (no pun intended. I don't think I'm that poor in taste...), and by choosing to open the unplugged set with About A Girl, it opens with the line 'I need an easy friend'.

Don't we all, Kurt. Don't we all.

Anyway, it's off to NCAA 2009 for me. I actually took a weeks vacation off of work for this. Again...sad? maybe. Fun? no. doubt.

Filo Beddoe To Play At D.A.R.E. Fest

Friday, July 25 @ 9:00 Filo Beddoe will invade Amvets park near Rocky Fork Lake to promote Drug and Alcohol Resistance Education. (Is this a sign of the Apocalypse?) The first annual D.A.R.E. fest will feature karaoke on Friday before FB goes on. Saturday night will feature two bands (Blue Steel and Inside Straight). Great live music and all free of charge. For details, as well as some cool pics of the latest inmates, check out:

http://www.highlandcoso.com/

Filo Beddoe would like to remind you to Just Say No!

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers w/ Steve Winwood - Cincinnati, OH 7.8.08

The Rock & Roll Gods were on our side Tuesday evening as the clouds parted and the rain held off for Mrs. DJ & I to witness two of the greatest acts in rock & roll history: Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers and Steve Winwood. What a fantastic night of music it was!!! Two Hall Of Fame acts for the price of one...and both lived up to expectations. Both Petty & Winwood were at the top of their games, and I'm so pleased to have been in attendance on a sold-out evening of terrific music.

Steve Winwood came out promptly (in good English fashion) at 7:32 with his 4-piece ensemble in support of his new album "9 Lives." I think this deserves a further listen as it combines jazz & Caribbean rhythms - very soothing to the ear. Imagine the percussionists for Santana circa Woodstock '69 jamming with David Sanborn. They actually made "Higher Love" sound pretty good - and I've never liked that song. Anyhow, I've become a pretty big fan of Winwood's music over the past few years, especially that of Traffic & Blind Faith. He pulled out "Can't Find My Way Home," mixed in some Spencer Davis Group ("I'm A Man" and Gimme Some Lovin") and closed the set with an absolutely searing version of "Dear Mr. Fantasy." The guitar solo at the end of this song by Winwood was just incredible. The guy is an amazing musician, as he switched back & forth between guitar & Hammond organ for almost 1-1/2 hours. I'm glad I got to see him though; Winwood would be worth seeing again in a more intimate setting. 40 years in the business & he's never sounded better.

As good as Steve Winwood was, I could hardly wait to see what Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers could do. They came out on stage on a 90-degree, muggy night at Riverbend dressed for a January snowstorm - I couldn't quite get over that, but the blazers didn't stay on for long as they got settled in after "You Wreck Me." Petty & the boys were terrific all night; one of, if not the most professional, tightest group of musicians I've ever seen play. Mike Campbell deserves mention alongside any great lead guitarist anywhere. They played for 2 hours, cranking out hit after hit. They sprinkled in a couple of obscure tunes, most notably "Sweet William," a very nice blues song, but the night was for the most part a huge sing-along as everyone around us young and old knew every word by heart. Petty popped in a nod to his old buddies The Traveling Wilburys with "The End Of The Line" that sent chills up my spine. I swear I saw George Harrison & Roy Orbison - I kept rubbing my eyes & squinting but no such luck. Darn.

The theme of the evening was, in fine Wilbury fashion, "everything is alright." As Petty stated during a brief break, "just imagine that for one moment that everything is alright" as he floated about the stage with arms spread like a bird. Everything was quite alright by me, enjoying some of the finest music ever made with my lovely wife. Yes indeed, I was singing right along with the teenage girl w/ her gray-haired father in front of me. I was also singing along with the drunk-ass redneck from Kentucky behind me, until he fell off a bit later. I think he should have stuck with beer, but I'm just sayin'. The only small gripes I had were concert etiquette of the kids that passed out before Steve Winwood even said "hello," and the $40.oo price tag on the tour T-shirts. Sorry Tom, but as the guy who led the fight in the 80's to keep album prices affordable you need to get realistic about the shirts, dude. Maybe that's where you're getting the money to help the flood victims in Iowa, I dunno. All you had to do was ask & I'd give you a few bucks for that, but dang...$40.00? But I digress...the entire evening was memorable & very, very entertaining. God bless you Tom Petty, and thank you.

(Note: click on the blog title above to direct yourself to footage from the 7.8.08 show at Riverbend)

Set List:

1. You Wreck Me

2. Listen To Her Heart

3. I Won’t Back Down

4. Even The Losers

5. Free Fallin’

6. Mary Jane’s Last Dance

7. Sweet William

8. End Of The Line

9. Breakdown

10. Saving Grace

11. Honey Bee

12. A Face In The Crowd

13. You Don’t Know How It Feels

14. Learning To Fly

15. Don’t Come Around Here No More

16. Refugee

Encore:
17. Runnin’ Down A Dream

18. Mystic Eyes

19. American Girl

Purple Reign: A Chronicle of Prince Rogers Nelson.

I'm young enough to be in that weird generation of music fan. Where a lot of my classics haven't aged at all, and I was still young when Nirvana ruled, and when Jay-Z released his debut album. Through all of this time, one constant has remained true in my opinion: Prince is the greatest artist of my generation, even the best artist of the past 30 years. Not like that should shock anyone. His new albums may not be great, clobbering classics, but even his worst work has music that his peers couldn't even fathom. At 50, he's still light years ahead of most of his contemporaries. It's almost if Prince has become a punchline, with the Dave Chappelle skit and all (Interestingly enough, I read an article written by Toure', pre Chappelle skit, where he played 2 on 2 with Prince, and confirmed that Prince has skills. No pancakes were involved though.), and with that, people forget how great he is.

My parents hated Prince. I think they were somewhere in between generations. They grew up with Motown, Jazz, and Philly soul on one hand, and The Beatles, Who, Beach Boys, and etc. on the other hand. So, as my father explains it, by the time the 70's rolled around, they were fully stuck in the world of Fleetwood Mac and Springsteen, and just "weren't ready" for Prince. I had an uncle though, who was ready for Prince. In 1988, I was 5 years old, and I heard what I know now was "Play In The Sunshine" (track 2 off of Prince's possibly greatest album, Sign o' The Times), and I couldn't register all that was going on, but I knew I liked it. As the years went on, and I was exposed to more and more Prince, and by 12, I was fully listening to everything he put out (of course, not all of it was appropriate for a 12 year old...), regardless of if I had to sneak listening to Dirty Mind, or Lovesexy into the house. Here's the thing, I lived through (most of) the Michael Jackson mania. I've never seen anything like it, and I won't see anything like it since. They would shut down broadcast television to debut a Mike video. I'm not knocking Jackson, but I'm not sure he could touch Prince on any level. Yes, I know. He made Thriller...but let's give Quincy Jones some credit too, shall we? I mean, let's look at Jackson's 3 milestone albums (Off The Wall, Thriller, Bad), and you've got Jones, one of the greatest producers of all time, behind the boards, and a host of talented musicians (including Louis Johnson and Rod Temperton) filling the studio. Again, not taking anything away from Jackson, but imagine if Prince had Quincy Jones on his side. The fact is that Prince didn't need Jones. He produced, wrote and composed almost every note on his greatest works. Sure, he did have a backing band, The Revolution, that had some talent in it, but you get the feel that even if they weren't around, Prince would find a way to make it work. Because that's what he does. He doesn't work for music, or anyone. He makes the music work for him. He can cover all of his influences, Joni Mitchell, James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, and Jerry Lee Lewis...all in one song. Effortlessly. "When Doves Cry" has no bassline, and that's great, we get it...but what's more great to me is the risks he takes. Even now, he'll throw out his most eccentric tracks, and put them in the start, or middle of a record. That's a risk because if something is too weird, too early, people might cast your album off for good. But Prince has no problem putting something like U Got The Look 4th or 5th on a record. And I don't even need to go into the insane amount of ghostwriting that comes out of the man. He had his hands all over hits (well, and women) in the 80's.

I watch his Super Bowl halftime performance almost 2 times a month. I watch it because it's still jaw dropping. Not only the best halftime show I've ever seen, but one of the best performances I've ever seen. No one can touch that. It plays out as some kind of mythical epic. A movie scene couldn't have been scripted better. Prince comes out with his head wrapped, and strolls through the downpour of rain without even flinching. And look, I'm just as tired of hearing covers of Proud Mary as the next guy who thinks Tina Turner was a product of Ike Turner's genius (ummm...more on that some other time...), but I never knew it could sound like that. Plus, I'm sure Dave Grohl is just now getting his senses back after Prince decided to take his song ("Best Of You") and actually make it good on a national stage. You would almost imagine that Prince created the fierce downpour himself, just to finish with Purple Rain as a soaked crowd sang along, but he remained perfectly in tact, as though the rain realized it couldn't hit him. Every time I watch it, I stare, and I pick up new things that make this performance legendary. The thing is, I shouldn't be shocked. He's Prince, and he's amazing...but the fact that as an artist that everyone knows is great, he can still shock us, well...that just further speaks to his greatness. He was equal parts James Brown, Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone, And Janis Joplin, just to name a few.

Prince is inspiring. Not in the same way the Springsteen inspires, using the stage as a pulpit to preach the Gospel of rock doing battle against the forces that keep us down...no, Prince inspires from preaching very little. He was probably most inspiring when he was barely speaking at all. It's sad that his battle for record label independence was a battle that he fought alone, and that got him outcasted for some time. But it's inspiring that he's still fighting it, and you get the feel that he'll always fight it, because just when you feel like you can count him out, he reminds you that you can't now, and never can. His shows still sell out in minutes. He still sells a ton of records, and there will never be another Prince. In the interview with Toure', Prince stated that he never worried about Michael Jackson, because he is "Just a guitar player". Sure. Prince is "just a guitar player" like Al Capone was just a guy who enjoyed a little bootlegging. And I think it speaks to the respect for Prince that no one even tries. How many Michael Jackson clones do we have to sit through every year? Usher is tired of Chris Brown's antics at this point. D'Angelo came close to trying to be Prince, but after one solid album (VooDoo), he went crazy. He realized that he couldn't do it, and it's an exercise in futility to try. We only have one Prince, because we only need one Prince.

The greatest part in the aforementioned halftime show is when, prior to the Purple Rain guitar solo, Prince gestures to the crowd and asks "Do you mind if I play this guitar?"... As if anyone now, or ever would object to that.

Cinematic Masterpieces

With a solid week of the best rest and relaxation the gulf coast of Florida could offer, I feel poised to once again drop some bloggage on my musical aficionados. As I sit here laboring through one of the worst CGI-based movies to date (10,000 B.C.), I feel inspired to write about the power of music in films. Now, I'm not saying a great Tom Petty melody would shine up this gigantic turd running across my TV, but the right song at the right time makes a good movie, a great one.

Case in point, and there may be some who would argue this one, but I'll just throw out "Saturday Night Fever." An iconic film of the disco-era (my second-least favorite era next to the Prohibition era), and the Bee Gees whined this movie into the stratosphere. In the opening scene, John (Kelly Preston is my wife) Travolta walks down the street carrying your average paint can. Kick in "Stayin' Alive" and the whole movie changes in that split second. Suddenly it goes from being some dude carrying a paint can to some cool guy carrying a cool paint can. Follow? You know you do. I'm even gonna say it - disco was cool, if even for that one moment in theatrical history. Without the Bee Gees soundtrack, you would find "Saturday Night Fever" next to "Turner and Hooch" in the $1.99 bin at Family Dollar.

Speaking of killer intro songs, how about "Blackboard Jungle." OK, I know I'm diggin' way back to the early days of rock and roll, but if you haven't seen this one, check it out. This movie pretty much created the way a tough rock and roll song can make a movie (or vice versa). Bill Haley and the Comets kicked off the intro to "Blackboard Jungle" (sorry abbreviation just didn't work), with the super cool "Rock Around The Clock." I read one time that this tune, perhaps best known for "Happy Days" actually started a riot somewhere in Europe when Bill and the Comets rocked the house. At any rate, it set the stage for sweet rock and roll in film.

Flash forward to 1976. A young Sly Stallone creates one of the most motivational flix of all-time. Rocky. Remember when Burgess Meredith decides he's gonna train Rocko and all of a sudden the film cuts to the gym and out of nowhere Survivor vocals come a'rockin with "Eye of the Tiger?" Well, I'm pretty sure that Rocky couldn't have went the distance with Apollo without that tune. Tommy Gunn, maybe.

Need more proof that music gets it done? Try watching Pulp Fiction (or any other Tarantino film) with the sound off. QT has become somewhat of a master of finding the right song for the right scene. Who would have picked Jerry Rafferty's "Stuck in the Middle with You" for a torture scene? And yet somehow, it worked. "Miserlou" for an intro - perfect. Dance scene - how about an old Chuck Berry tune. And yet, time after time - it makes the film.

Are there exceptions to this rule? Films with killer tunes that just plain sucked? You bet. Perhaps a Part Deux to this blog will unravel this paradox.

By the way, according to AFI, the #1 greatest song ever in a film is "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". Not a bad tune, but I say if Dorothy (in case you prefer blondes) had ripped out a few verses of "Eye of the Tiger" they wouldn't have needed that house to crush the witch.