Classic Rock Musings, Rants & Raves

Ian Anderson once told me music DVDs do not traditionally generate a whole lot of revenue. Even so, fans are lapping up every frame of rare footage from their favorite bands, and Jethro Tull is no exception. Trailing on the coattails of Tull’s Live At Montreux 2003, along with their legendary performance at 1970’s Isle Of Wight, Jack In The Green is a unique collection of live clips from Germany. Spanning 23 years, this DVD is a must-have for any Jethro Tull fan.

The disc starts off with nine songs from 1982’s Rockpop In Concert, where the group opens with two tracks from their new album at the time, the oft-neglected The Broadsword And The Beast. Here, Anderson and company desperately try to fit in with the changing tide of the 80s by smoothing over their arrangements and forgoing John Evan’s masterful piano with Peter-John Vettesse’s synthesizers. Reaction is decidedly mixed to the newer material, and the band invariably fall back on “Aqualung” and “Locomotive Breath” to remind the audience of Tull’s potent legacy.

Fast-forward to a RockSummer clip and the group lays down a decent rendition of “Hunting Girl” from the pastoral Songs From The Word. Along with four more from Out In The Green, 1986 clearly found the band in a state of transitory reinvention before they recorded the Grammy-winning Crest Of A Knave. For the latter, however, they weren’t about to abandon the muscle of “Thick As A Brick” or “Too Old To Rock N’ Roll, Too Young To Die” — both of which registered high marks with the Germans.

Seven years later, on Live In Germany from 1993, Jethro Tull is still grinding it out, this time for what looks like a dinner crowd. Of course, by then, the group had become more of a touring outfit than a recording band, content to dazzle their fans with rock-sharp versions of oldies but moldies like “My Sunday Feeling.” More to point, their presentation of Brownie McGhee’s “So Much Trouble” (with Dave Pegg and Andrew Giddings dressed as miners and plucking acoustics) does wonders to underscore Tull’s twisted sense of humor running alongside a time-honored tribute to their roots.

Perhaps the most fascinating segment on the DVD is a pair of tunes from 1970 and 1971 appearances on The Beat Club. Of course, the group had yet to hit their mid 70s stride they continued to evolve and mature. Evan gets in his licks on “With You There To Help Me” from Benefit. The band’s chemistry rises and falls on “Nothing Is Easy,” as Anderson stops the other players during the song’s introduction. They then restart the song, but after a couple of minutes, Anderson stops again and gracefully exits the stage. Just goes to show that even a group like Jethro Tull has bad days.

While Jack In The Green isn’t exactly mind-blowing (it would take a full show from the mid 70s to do that), it offers yet another view of the world’s most unique and misunderstood band. Plumped up with liner notes from famed German promoter Fritz Rau, Anderson and über fan Michael Ostendorf, the DVD confirms that 40 years of Jethro Tull is not to be taken lightly in this day and age of fly-by-night American Idols and other disposable entertainment options.

Earlier month, you may recall my blog about attending Nissan’s Live Sets on Yahoo! Music taping of Jakob Dylan and The Gold Mountain Rebels. Well, lo and behold, video from that performance has become available and I’m going to share it with you. Before I do, however, I just want to say how great it is to be able to access stuff like this instantly on the Internet and play it back whenever you want. YouTube may be causing problems for copyright holders, but its technology is a boon for on-demand viewing.

If you watch this show on Yahoo!, you’ll have to deal with lots of different screens, ads and general delays. I have made it a little easier by creating a special website I call Jakob Dylan on Nissan Live Sets . All of the video from the night is there, right at your fingertips. The songs are in order (I think) and if you watch closely, you can spot my shining bald head in a couple of shots. Bet the producers loved that.

Dylan played a concise and enjoyable little set to promote his upcoming debut solo album Seeing Things — one that would make his dad proud. If such a thing is possible.

Over this past Memorial Day weekend, I finally took the plunge and flew to Austin, Texas. Hailed as the live music capital of the world, Austin prides itself on being weird, wired and wonderful. From what I saw, I couldn’t agree more. Actually, New York or San Francisco might have them beat on the “weird” factor (despite the proliferation of “Keep Austin Weird” T-shirts and bumper stickers around town). But compared to the rest of Texas, Austin sticks out like a hippie in a laundry mat.

I had long heard about the music scene in this Texas town, so I was curious to see what all the hype was about. My primary destination: Sixth Street. Oh yeah, this is where the city’s pulse pumps late into the night. Ramshackle clubs, bars, saloons, and holes-in-the-walls line each side of the street, packed to the rafters, Lone Stars and Coronas a-flowing, and bands a-blazing. But what amazed me most was the music they were playing: Classic Rock.

Here I was, surrounded by mostly 20-somethings, shaking their tushes to the songs of their parents. Shut out of the Kills show at the Parish, I ambled over to the Dizzy Chicken, guzzled down three longnecks, and marveled at a shaggy foursome of guys and gals playing Bad Company covers.

The Blues keeps Sixth Street cookin’ and I later took in a captivating country-based combo, but it was the scent of Classic Rock that kept me at bay. I peaked in the window of the Chuggin’ Monkey and watched in amazement as two longhaired guitarists raced over the bridge of “Sympathy For The Devil.” And kids packed like lively goldfish in the small club swayed in the clutches of joy.

I ended my night at Maggie May’s. There, I watched a three-piece pull off suitable renditions of the Beatles’ “Hey Bulldog” and Stevie Ray Vaughn’s “Couldn’t Stand The Weather.” SRV is revered like a god in Austin. Him and Willie Nelson. They even have a statue of Stevie Ray on the south side of town, overlooking the Colorado River. On Sixth Street, I saw at least three guitarists, including the cat at Maggie May’s, doing their best SRV impressions.

Unfortunately, I never made it to Antone’s, where Vaughn got his start. That might be because it’s on Fifth Street and I never left Sixth Street. The next day, I passed by Threadgill’s, Janis Joplin’s old stomping grounds, but blew it off for the Shady Grove and a little Frito Pie. Hey, a guy’s gotta eat in between sets.

Hello fellow classic rockers (and other mortals)! It’s been a fun-filled week and I’m running a bit behind on my blogging because I was out of town. In fact, I have a nice classic rock anecdote related to my absence that I will share with you in my next post. Meanwhile, enjoy the clip below of Blue Öyster Cult’s Buck Dharma jamming on the classic “Buck’s Boogie” at this year’s NAMM show in Anaheim, California. My buddy shot the video. I go every year and write up an annual report for Vintage Rock. And even though I tell myself every year I can’t go and cover this show again — I go anyway because the music is just too good. Oh…I also like the free cocktails some of the vendors give to members of the press.

In 1988, I wandered into the China Club in New York City and someone handed me a cassette tape of Midnight Oil’s Diesel And Dust. “What is this?” I asked. “It’s the new Midnight Oil album. This is a record release party,” I was told. On my flight home, I plopped the tape into my Walkman and gave it a good listen. Although the album had been out for awhile, it was just catching on in the States. The quirky quintet would make the world aware of the plight of Indigenous Australians in their homeland. Twenty years later, a Legacy Edition of Diesel & Dust with lots of extras serves as a sober reminder of how a band can use the power of music to initiate awareness and change.

The origins of Diesel And Dust stem from 1986 when Midnight Oil set out on a tour of remote Aboriginal settlements in Central Australia, the Western Desert, and the Top End. During the tour — which came to be known as the Blackfella/Whitefella Tour — the band was exposed to the realities of modern Aboriginal life, rampant with poverty, disease and alcoholism. Known for their political activism, Midnight Oil returned to Sydney and wrote songs addressing the country’s own indigenous people. They played a few gigs to try out the new material and then went into the studio with British keyboardist-producer Warne Livesey to begin work on Diesel And Dust, their sixth and most important album. The results were nothing short of breath-taking.

“Beds Are Burning,” the opening number, became a surprise Top 20 hit and an anthem for the Aboriginal land rights movement in Australia. Vocalist/frontman Peter Garrett (presently the Minister for the Environment, Heritage & the Arts in the Australian Parliament) dramatically articulates the hard-hitting lyrics over a swift and steady stream of instrumentation. The record continually shifts from intense to restrained, but the message is consistent. “The Dead Heart,” written for the Mitijula Aboriginal community and propelled by an infectious churning acoustic rhythm, is even more direct when Garrett declares, “White Man came took everyone.” From “Bullroarer” to “Dreamworld” to “Put Down That Weapon,” virtually everything on Diesel And Dust packs a joyful, thought-provoking punch.

The Legacy Edition features a long-lost track called “Gunbarrel Highway,” which was banned from the original North American release because of its provocative lyrics. There’s also a bonus DVD of the one-hour 1987 Blackfella/Whitefella Tour documentary. Remastered with drummer Rob Hirst’s original liner notes, Diesel And Dust is as powerful and moving today as it was 20 years ago.

Well, if you read my blog yesterday, you know I predicted David Archuleta would win it all on “American Idol.” If you read or heard the news since, you also know I was wrong because David Cook is the new American Idol. So, please excuse me while I remove my foot from my mouth.

Now that that’s done and over with, let’s get back to classic rock talk. In the last couple of years, I have developed an extremely nasty habit of posting regularly on music message boards. It can be consuming at times, especially when you get into heated arguments with others.

On one board, there’s a guy — let’s call him “Johnny” — who thinks he knows everything about classic rock (by the way, that guy isn’t me). I get into quite a few arguments with Johnny because most of his classic rock knowledge has absolutely no basis in fact. Whenever I point this out, Johnny goes ballistic and says a lot of things that make no sense.

I have to tell you, Johnny and I have had some pretty silly arguments. One time, I told him the band presently touring under the name “Lynyrd Skynyrd” is nothing more than a glorified tribute band. I saw Skynyrd back in the 70s and they were great. The Skynyrd of today is a mere shadow of the original.

But, according to Johnny, the Skynyrd of today is just as good. His argument is that if original members are dead, then it’s OK for the group to go forward. I asked then why the Beatles weren’t still around; after all, John Lennon and George Harrison are no longer living. Using Johnny’s own logic, it would be OK if Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr recruited new members and called themselves the Beatles. Johnny came back, saying that’s different because they are the Beatles.

Johnny also thinks the Allman Brothers Band should hang it up because they fired Dickey Betts. Forget that Duane Allman and Barry Oakley have departed — Betts was the glue that held the group together. While I agree with that somewhat, I also believe that since Betts was let go, the Allman Brothers Band continue to be a great group with Warren Haynes and Derek Trucks. Johnny, however, has stated that because he and his buddies no longer like the Allman Brothers Band, their popularity has taken a dive. Johnny must have a lot of friends.

Arguing with Johnny is like arguing with your younger brother. You don’t know why you keep doing it and it never goes anywhere, but you can’t stop. The latest scrap has to do with the Rolling Stones’ album, Their Satanic Majesties Request. If you know anything about the Stones, you know this particular album has suffered its share of abuse, especially when it first came out. Johnny, however, maintains that it was wildly successful and probably one of the top albums of 1967. This is where I felt compelled to counter Johnny’s declaration with a few well-worn facts:

In the book, According To The Rolling Stones by Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Dora Loewenstein, Charlie Watts and Philip Dodd, there’s an entry on page 109 that says, “….Their Satanic Majesties Request was a critical and commercial failure…”

Bill Wyman: “I hated it!”

Keith Richards: “I thought the album was a load of crap.”

Charlie Watts: “It wasn’t one of our great records.”

Jon Landau, Rolling Stone, February 1968: “Their Satanic Majesties Request, despite moments of unquestionable brilliance, put the status of the Rolling Stones in jeopardy.”

Johnny wasn’t buying any of it. Instead of coming back with glowing reviews and comments from the late 60s about Their Satanic Majesties Request, he continually berated me with off-the-cuff statements. He said I wasn’t a true Stones because most fans know Their Satanic Majesties Request was a very successful album. I couldn’t quite wrap myself around the rationale behind that one. In the end, he claimed he had proven to me and everyone that the record wasn’t a failure, compared to other Stones releases (which I never brought up), and that I should face up and admit I’m wrong. It’s impossible to argue with logic like that.

Hopefully, this blog will wean me off the message boards once and for all. And then Johnny can have it all for himself.

So last night, I’m channel surfing and I land on FOX to catch the last few seconds of “The Simpsons.” Just as the credits wind down, on comes a commercial for the next program: “American Idol.” Now I confess to not being much of an “American Idol” follower. But I read about music quite a bit, so I’m well aware of the show’s influence and staggering popularity. Surprisingly, I also know who some of the winners and losers are. Yeah, they’re all over the news, so it’s no big deal. Maybe that’s why I don’t regularly watch “American Idol.”

Truth be told, I’m not particularly fond of the concept behind “American Idol.” Most of these kids who try out are pretty clueless. They all try to sing like Mariah Carey and Justin Timberlake. And the judges — Randy Jackson, Paul Abdul and Simon Cowell — perpetuate the notion by praising these kids who are desperately working to become fabricated carbon copies of today’s biggest pop singers. Hearing this stuff makes my ears burn.

This past season, I had heard, things have loosened up, and some of the finalists are actually decent musicians and singers. I never tuned in to find out until last night, which was billed as the season’s two-night finale. It’s now down to two contestants or singers or whatever the hell they are, and they’re both named David. David Cook looks like a clean-cut rocker type with a just-got-out-of-bed head of hair and a strange, scruffy beard. David Archuleta is much younger and rather ordinary looking. He’s apparently the better singer.

Cowell saw the potential in Archuleta early on, and stated publicly that he would win. After last night’s match (the show had an annoying boxing theme to give it a masculine edge), it’s easy top see why. Cook’s edgy delivery didn’t sit well with the judges, even though they seem to have given him mostly positive props. They were practically on their knees whenever Archuleta sang. I agree he is technically better than Cook, but this kid has absolutely no balls. Pretty much like all the other American Idols.

What surprised me the most about last night’s show was the choice of material. For the first round, both contestants sang classic rock songs with eight-word titles. Cook gave a strong, somewhat strained performance of U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” Archuleta fired back with a smooth reading of Elton John’s “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me.” Cowell commended Cook, but declared Archuleta the winner. Jackson and Abdul added little, reaping acclaim on virtually anything that moved. Later, I could have sworn I heard Jackson utter something along the lines of, “You dogs hang out because we’ll be right back after these messages from our bad-ass sponsor, McDonald’s…” I could be wrong about this though.

For round two, the Davids each sang new songs by unknown songwriters (well, unknown to me). Surprise, surprise — both songs were forgettable, but Cowell still gave a thumbs up to Archuleta. At this point, I wasn’t really clear why the “judges” were still involved because the winner is chosen by viewers who call in and vote. All I know is that they’re paid enormous salaries and relish in their rolls of finding new stars. Like a lot of what went on during the hour, the judges’ comments functioned as filler.

It’s inevitable: both Davids will win record deals. And whoever wears the crown will hardly conquer all. Ask losers Clay Aiken, Chris Daughtry and Jennifer Hudson about that. But after round three, it’s pretty obvious Archuleta is going to win. I admired the fact that Cook tackled Collective Soul’s “The World I Know.” Predictably though, Archuleta could have sung the phone book (as suggested by Jackson) and everyone would have fallen all over themselves. Why he chose to desecrate John Lennon’s “Imagine” is beyond rational thought. Nevertheless, it was short, sweet and swayed the judges, who have no real say in the final outcome. I’m not sure I can forgive anyone for turning a classic rock gem like “Imagine” into a sappy ballad.

Tonight, they’ll waste a couple of hours with guest stars and finally declare a winner. I predict that winner will be David Archuleta. His annoying stage father will probably quit his job and try to manage his son’s career. If the industry has anything to say about it, they’ll eat him alive. I’m not going to tune in to find out. I’d rather watch the Lakers play the Spurs. I mean I live in L.A. and “American Idol” will be the top news story at 11 unless the Lakers win. Go Lakers!

As if issues like oil, food and security weren’t enough to worry about, now we have another format war on our hands. Unlike past format wars — vinyl vs. 8-track, Beta vs. VHS, HD-DVD vs. Blu-ray — this one is deep-seated, widely splintered and continually scrutinized. Yeah, there’s a lot of opinions about digital music (online streaming, MP3s, etc.) and physical music (CDs, cassettes, vinyl).

It’s not so much the format itself that’s at the heart of the matter; instead, it’s the distribution. Despite its inferior fidelity, the appeal of digital music lies in its ease of accessibility. A couple of clicks of the mouse, and presto! You have music booming out of your computer speakers or headphones.

Physical music, of course, takes a little work and patience, but you have a few choices. You can borrow a CD and copy it. Not such a big deal, but you need the media, the software and the hardware to do it. You can purchase a CD from Amazon, E-Bay or some other online retailer, pay a little extra for shipping, and wait by the mailbox for the next week. Or you can drive around searching for a proper record store, eventually succumbing to the local Wal-Mart of Best Buy where you hope they’ll have the CD you want in stock.

Living in a fast-paced world where tastes and trends wither and fade with each new dawn, digital music has its place. But when nostalgia and tangibility creep in, holding an album adorned with a colorful artwork is worth the hassle for some people. Continued existence of either form relies solely on sales. And this is where things get dicey.

The amount of disinformation on the web is already rampant; as for the recording industry, the spin cycle has been running in a thousand directions, backed with tons of contrasting statistics and figures. One report says, “Digital music sales represented 10% of the total worldwide music market in 2007, up from 6% in 2006. We expect that by 2012, digital music sales will represent an impressive 40% of all music purchased worldwide.” Another report says that by 2012, “digital music sales will have surpassed CD sales.” Gee, I wonder who’s behind these reports?

On the flipside — no pun intended — you have research specialists claiming “file-sharing usage has failed to fall while the percentage of music fans regularly paying for downloads is shrinking.” This same “research” says the percentage of music fans regularly buying music downloads has gone down from “16% in 2006 to 14% by the end of 2007.” In other words, digital music sales are either going up or down, depending on which report you believe.

Where does this leave the CD? According to one blog I read, Wired editor Nancy Miller said the CD is “dead and gone.” The same blog stated that, according to the RIAA figures, 511 million CDs shipped last year. Seems like it’s in Miller’s best interest that the CD takes a dive, so she and her staff can fill their pages with content on new and innovative technology, instead of ancient, archaic storage devices like the CD. Naturally, the RIAA is staying on top of the numbers, no matter where they land.

Throwing in its weight into the ring like an independent breaking up the Democrat-Republican chokehold, vinyl is even getting props as a formidable seller. On yet another blog, I that the RIAA’s 2007 sales report says the American music industry sold 36.6% more Extended Play (EP) and Long Play (LP) records than it had in the previous year, increasing vinyl sales revenue by 46.2%. The blogger has all but declared a “vinyl resurgence.” Funny how the blog I got this information from is part of the Wired blog network. Even an editor and a blogger from the same publication can’t seem to get on the same page.

All I know is I have a lot of old factory cassettes I’d love to unload. Any takers?

I was reminded the other day that exactly 20 years ago, Vanilla Fudge reunited in New York for the Atlantic Records 40th Anniversary concert. This event is significant to me for many reasons. For one, my good friend Lanny Cordola was hired to play guitar at the gig, replacing original guitarist Vinny Martell (who later rejoined the Fudge for subsequent reunions). Lanny had been playing with Fudge vocalist/keyboardist Mark Stein in a band called Danger Zone, plus he had also worked with bassist Tim Bogert and drummer Carmine Appice, so the chemistry was there.

I attended a few Danger Zone rehearsals, and got to know Mark and his wife Patty. So when Vanilla Fudge was invited to New York and Lanny was brought in, I was fortunate enough to get an invite as long as I helped out. I wrote an article about my experience at the Atlantic Records 40th Anniversary, if you want to read all the gritty details.

On May 14, 1988, I saw what will probably be the best concert of my life. Not only did I get to work with and see a pioneering band like Vanilla Fudge; I also witnessed reunions of the Rascals and Led Zeppelin, along with 14 hours of once-in-a-lifetime performances by Genesis, Yes, Foreigner, Paul Rodgers, Keith Emerson, Carl Palmer, Robert Plant, Crosby, Stills & Nash, and many others. I took lots of pictures, met lots of interesting people, and had a glorious time.

Today, as a sort of update to the article I wrote over 10 years ago, I still am in touch with Lanny Cordola and the members of Vanilla Fudge. Lanny is a busy session musician involved in numerous projects, including a unique film and album focusing on John Coltrane’s jazz masterpiece, A Love Supreme.

Five years ago, I did an interview with Mark Stein, and I still stay in touch with him and Patty, who reside in Florida. After a few shifts in personnel and a little fence mending, the four original members of Vanilla Fudge are back together and on the road. I’ve been wanting to get out to a show and say hello, but I just haven’t had the chance. Hopefully, that will change this summer.

A related item recently came across my desk about Carmine Appice. If you know anything about Carmine, you know how ambitious and busy he is. The guy always has a lot of things going on. His latest project is called SLAMM USA , a band/theatrical experience that features five drummers and one guitarist, combining elements of “the Blue Man Group, Home Depot, NASCAR, and melodic hard rock.” Interesting.

Described as “Stomp on steroids,” SLAMM is playing all over the place these days. They also appear in a promotional video for ESPN that features the SLAMM boys playing the NASCAR garage and beating the hood of a multi-million dollar NASCAR car to a custom SLAMM-composed Nascar theme song. “I’m glad NASCAR didn’t make us pay for playing the garage!” Carmine remarked.

Anyway, I hope to be talking to Carmine in the near future about SLAMM and other things he has going. Below are dates for upcoming SLAMM, Vanilla Fudge and Cactus shows.

May 23 - SLAMM at the Hard Rock Cafe, Foxwoods Resort Casino Ledyard, CT
June 13 - Cactus at Dexter’s Nightclub, Riverdale, NJ
June 14 - Cactus at The Crazy Donkey, Farmingdale, NY
June 15 - Cactus at Sellersville Theatre, Sellersville, NJ
June 28 - SLAMM at Festival Pier, Penn’s Landing, Philadelphia, PA
August 28 - Vanilla Fudge at Cannery Casino, Las Vegas, NV
September 6 - SLAMM at University of Washington with the drum line
September 19 - SLAMM at Sellersville 1894 Theatre, Sellersville, PA
September 20 - SLAMM at Boulton Center for the Arts, Bay Shore, NY
September 26 - Vanilla Fudge at Stone Pony, Asbury Park, NJ
September 27 - Vanilla Fudge at Westbury Music Fair, NY

Check out the video below of Vanilla Fudge performing “Keep Me Hangin’ On.” It’s from the Atlantic Records 40th Anniversary concert at Madison Square Garden on May 14, 1988….