Classic Rock Musings, Rants & Raves

When Steve Morse replaced Ritchie Blackmore in Deep Purple, a monumental shift occurred. Morse faced an uphill battle joining a band whose glory days as a preeminent, big-selling hard rock band were pretty much over. Just as he had done with Kansas, the Dixie Dregs guitarist eschewed the temptation to pass himself off as a clone. Instead, he humbly embraced Purple’s rich history and slyly integrated his own style, tone and grace into the mix. Since Morse came aboard in 1994, Purple has sustained its reputation as a powerful live unit with a unique history of its own, extensively documented over four DVDs on Around The World Live.

The meat and potatoes of this hefty box set is a generous spread of thick and gooey live stuff. Not to be outdone in exoticism, there’s a 1995 show from Bombay, India, a few numbers from Seoul, Korea, from the same year, a 1999 performance from Australia, and a very special 2002 gig from the Hammersmith Odeon in London, England. Make no mistake about it: in the mid 90s, Deep Purple was a revitalized music machine, writing new music, tackling odd and off-the-wall themes, and thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Not longer battling with Blackmore, Ian Gillan is especially more assured as the band’s frontman and vocal piece. Morse, of course, developed an instant rapport with everyone, particularly keyboardist Jon Lord. Watching the two bounce off each other is especially poignant given the fact that the 2002 London was Lord’s last show as a member of Deep Purple. If anything, this box set is a tribute to the keyboardist, who reluctantly departed the group he co-founded, feeling he can no longer give a hundred percent.

One of the benefits that came with Blackmore’s departure, according to Gillan, was the band’s chance to explore some of the more obscure songs from Purple’s vast canon. Along with the obligatory parade of first stringers like “Space Truckin’,” “Highway Star,” “Woman From Tokyo” and “Smoke On The Water,” there’s the force of “Fireball,” the bombastic screech of “Bloodsucker’ and the austere eloquence of “Mary Long” to keep things on pace and unpredictable (although, why they threw in “The Battle Rages On” and “Anya,” two of the last songs Purple recorded with Blackmore, remains anyone’s guess). Somehow all the tunes from the Blackmore years perpetuate newer songs “Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming” and “Ted The Mechanic” to an almost mythic status — giving them a Purple sheen with a fresh, well-scrubbed face.

At the heart of the shows, however, is the interplay and improvisation, which defines the core of Deep Purple’s exulted radiance. The loose, open-ended arrangements spawned from the hearts and minds of Morse, Lord, bassist Roger Glover and drummer Ian Paice are challenging and suspenseful enough to keep even the most judicious critic on the edge of his seat. This just makes those one-offs all the more special.

And that’s what happens when Don Airey, Lord’s replacement, joins the group for the first portion of the 2002 London show. Proofing his worth, Airey scurries through an absorbing keyboard solo before tastefully winding down and stepping away. The lights dim, then slowly come up, revealing Lord behind the keyboards, taking command of his signature lick on “Perfect Strangers.” On the set’s numerous interviews, both Airey and Lord recall that the switch was an emotional and dramatic moment, spilling over with respect and gratitude, during an already intense evening.

Meanwhile, Steve Morse continually grinds his ax, stretching the imagination and blazing through a fiery solo before running through a myriad of classic riffs from the likes of Skynyrd, the Who, Zeppelin and the Beatles before surrendering to the call of “Smoke On The Water.” For all his strengths, Morse can’t deny the impact of that one mighty riff.

Each of the first three discs are rounded out with loads of extra interviews and performances. The fourth disc collects a series of interviews, rehearsal footage and old clips for the 88-minute Access All Areas documentary. Simply put, we get a fairly straightforward, somewhat fragmented overview that grazes the recent history of the band, while offering polite acknowledgements of the days before Morse. Obviously, a complete history of Deep Purple from all of its participants isn’t in the band’s immediate future. But for sheer distance and audacity, Around The World Live, housed in its hard-bound, 32-page cover, encapsulates the importance of Deep Purple’s undying pursuit of musical excellence, no matter who’s stage.

If you’ve ever wondered about the sonic perfection behind timeless classic rockers like “Magic Man” and “Barracuda,” your ship has come in. Heart In The Studio, a new book written by Jake Brown and published by ECW Press, digs deep into the nitty gritty of the writing, recording and studio wizardry that went into every Heart album.

Lead by sisters Ann and Nancy Wilson, Heart scaled the male-dominated mountain of hard rock in the 70s and 80s and came out a winner with over 30 million records sold. Brown goes to the very beginning, chronicling the girls’ growth as musicians, singers and songwriters, with an emphasis on their influences (mainly the Beatles and Led Zeppelin). As teenagers, Ann and Nancy — along with friend Sue Ennis — spent countless hours singing and playing guitars. This would nurture a special and strong creative bond that went onto produce numerous Heart classics.

Then, in Seattle, post-Hendrix and pre-grunge, Heart was born. Ennis pushes the narrative forward with memories of how Ann was playing the bar band circuit, the girls’ fascination with writers like Kafka and Dostoevsky, as well as their musical heroes, and the birth of Heart. Producer Mike Flicker, another frequent speaker, explains how when he first saw Heart, it was Ann Wilson and a bunch of guys.

Nancy took the folk music route before being persuaded to join her sister. Nancy’s acoustic tendencies transformed the band, and the sisters signed with Flicker’s Mushroom Records. Together, with Flicker, arranger/engineer/future band member Howard Leese, guitarist Roger Fisher, bassist Steve Fossen and an “ever-changing line-up of drummers,” Ann and Nancy recorded Dreamboat Annie and Heart’s star took an immediate rise.

At this juncture in the book, each chapter focuses squarely on each of the band’s albums. Flicker, who produced the first five Heart albums, goes into great detail about the process, breaking down each microphone and instrument used for any track that matters, and lavishing praise upon Ann’s incredible voice and Nancy’s role as harmonizer, co-songwriter and acoustic guitarist.

Leese deservedly draws a lot of credit for helping Heart develop musically and prosper. It’s interesting to read how he, not Fisher, was responsible for many of the guitar leads on those early albums. Fisher gets his due for his creativity and contributions to various songs (and Fossen and the band’s first permanent drummer Michael Derosier pull a scant mention or two), but it’s a shame he wasn’t interviewed and given a chance to explain his part in the early days of Heart. Then again, his departure is somewhat downplayed, so perhaps his memories of Heart aren’t so favorable.

Truth be told, if you’re looking for dirt on the Wilson sisters or anyone from Heart’s personnel, this isn’t the book to read. But if you’re a recording buff and need to know what kind of microphone was used on the bass drum for “Barracuda,” then this is your new bible. Even then, it isn’t as much a high tech guide as it is the story of a typical band experiencing the ebb and flow of the topsy-turvy music business.

One of the more fascinating periods in the history of Heart is the 80s when they recruited new hot-shot players (bassist Mark Andes and drummer Denny Carmassi) and world-class producers (Ron Nevison, Ritchie Zito, Keith Olson) who insisted on reshaping the band’s sound and using outside songwriters. That along with the big-hair image proved to be, while financially satisfying, a bit of a rough patch for the Wilsons. Ann Wilson says that the compromises Heart made in those days, “offended us actually…” explaining how MTV and the video age placed unreasonable demands on women with “fake fingernails and corsets and all the stuff that was big in the 80s.” Brown politely skirts the issue of Ann’s weight problems, while continually extolling the virtues of her incredible voice.

The 90s onward found the Wilson sisters settling into their role as veteran pioneers. It also gave the girls to time to breathe, reflect, have families and eventually return to their roots. Brown touches on the Wilson’s side group, the Lovemongers, before landing on an overly long chapter on the most recent Heart album from 2004, Jupiter’s Darling.

For this record, Heart sported a whole new lineup, aside from the Wilsons, including guitarist Craig Bartok. Bartok dominates the chapter with lengthy expositions on the songwriting and recording of the album. Brown would have served the book better had he cut the chapter and peppered it with a few more Ann or Nancy quotes. Nevertheless, Bartok, like every other producer and commentator interviewed for the book, thinks the Wilsons are brilliant in every possible way, echoing the shared theory that their singing harmonies attain that special blend genetically (which makes sense when you think of other singing siblings like the Every Brothers). Point taken.

The book also touches on Ann and Nancy side projects, notably on the former’s 2007 solo covers album, Hope & Glory, which includes duets with Gretchen Wilson, Wynona Judd and Elton John. The final chapter speculates on the group’s future, suggesting their next album might be something more conceptual, akin to Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side Of The Moon. That could be interesting.

As should be expected there’s a fair share of rare photos (mostly of the Wilson sisters — alone, together, band promo shots, or in the studio with their dogs) and a couple minor inaccuracies (Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours did not come out three years after Dreamboat Annie and Jimmy Iovine did not produce John Lennon’s Double Fantasy). For the most part, however, this is a cool and calm read any Heart or music fan will enjoy and savor. Pushed along with extensive quotes from most of the key players, alternating with a mixed bag of facts, figures, tidbits and whatnot, Heart In The Studio is the most authoritative tomb on Heart, the biggest female-led hard rock band of all-time.

When I saw Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young screaming politics during their Freedom of Speech 2006 tour, I felt compelled to join a movement, any movement, to initiate a positive change in America. Two years later, with things seemingly murkier in the daily struggle to survive, perhaps the new documentary CSNY: Déjà Vu , which chronicles the 2006 tour, will reignite a commitment to building a better life for everyone here in the good old U.S.A.

With Neil Young’s controversial Living With War CD providng a bulk of the tour’s material, the film documents audience reactions to the music and the foursome’s ongoing connection with their fans, all against a backdrop of war and news footage. The documentary hits U.S. theaters July 25 (simultaneous with the release of the DVD), while a soundtrack CD is already creating a buzz of its own.

Neil Young told Billboard that the CSNY: Déjà Vu soundtrack may be the best album ever made by the legendary supergroup. “It’s CSNY,” he said. “It really is CSNY. It’s not overdubbed. There’s no fixes. It’s straight from the board. The basic mixes are the mixes that people heard when we were playing it. So it’s got rough spots all the way through it, which I think is refreshing, especially considering the subject matter. Why should we polish? Why polish this? Who gives a shit whether it’s polished or not? It is what it is, and that’s the message of the music. It’s what we’re doing. If you don’t like, you don’t like it. If you like it, you like it. But it is what it is. Chroming it is not going to help it.”

To experience a slice of CSNY: Déjà Vu, check out the videos below.

Déjà Vu Official Trailer #1

Déjà Vu Footage

Fresh from producing the Robert Plant and Alison Krauss record Raising Sand, T Bone Burnett has set his sights on another figure whose image is forever ingrained in struggle, gumption and wherewithal: John Mellencamp. The Rock And Roll Hall Of Famer may have gotten a shot in the arm creatively with 2007’s Freedom’s Road, but now he’s returned to the frontlines with Burnett paving the way on a powerful 14-track opus: Life, Death, Love and Freedom.

Whether he realizes it or not, Mellencamp often aspires to the emotional plateau of Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young. “Longest Days,” the stark and barren opener on Life, Death, Love and Freedom, succinctly bottles the sauce of the Boss, but Mellencamp remains defiantly individualistic in its smooth delivery. The country bounce of “My Sweet Love,” featuring back-up vocals from Karen Fairchild of Little Big Town, takes the listener down another road without the drama and pageantry. But it’s typically drama and pageantry that give Mellencamp’s music its distinct, striking flavor and resonance. You needn’t go much further than “Don’t Need This Body” where the singer questions his own mortality in lieu of growing old gracefully or kicking and screaming to the grave. One can only hasten a guess as to which path Mellencamp will follow, but the song’s reflective tone gives rise to further introspection. Country folk and blues have a beautiful way of doing that.

For his part, Burnett can turn a collection of acoustic instruments into a cosmic country symphony (can you imagine the possibilities of a Gram Parsons and T Bone Burnett collaboration?). This seems to work wonders on most projects he heads up. For Life, Death, Love and Freedom, however, the producer took one giant leap forward by integrating a new recording process called Code. Engineered for optimum sound quality across all formats — CDs, DVDs and digital — Code forgoes the compression that tends to cool the warmth and sharpen the contours. But all the technical embellishments can’t strip away the record’s sparse and elegant approach. “Mean,” “For The Children” and “A Brand New Song,” each wrapped in a sheath of effortless fortitude, are three more reasons why Mellencamp’s role as a singer and songwriter with a conscience can still reach ears and touch hearts. Even a few glossy rock and roll skeletons in the closet can’t erase that fact.

With all the hype surrounding VH1 Honoring the Who this week, I thought it might be appropriate to salute two key members of the Who no longer of this earth: Ketih Moon and John Entwistle. Together, Moon and Entistle comprised one of the best and most unusual rhythm sections in all of rock and roll. It was unpredictable, powerful and ear-shattering. Moon, of course, was like a runaway train on a collision course while Entwistle tempered his cool manner with expensive cars, clothing and cognac. Together, they were a wreckless, destructive duo, off stage as well as on. Maybe that’s what it took to do what they did.

I’ve seen concerts of every Who configuration since the early 70s. While it’s great to see Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey still playing live as the Who — even making 2006’s Endless Wire, the first new Who studio album in over 20 years — and receiving the accolades they so richly deserve, the band of the late 60s and early 70s — the ORIGINAL Who — was undoubtedly the greatest live unit I’ve ever seen on a concert stage. And it wouldn’t have happened without the two guys stoking the flames in the engine room. Check out the videos below featuring Keith Moon and John Entwistle. Long live rock!

Keith Moon Passes Out

Keith Moon Accepts Beatles Award

Keith Moon’s Last Interview

John Entwistle Bass Solo

Rick Wakeman & Tony Ashton Interview John Entwistle

John Entwistle Home Movies

Ah, the saga of David Bowie. Nearly 40 years ago, the former David Jones, who’d been slogging it around London in search of an identity, finally connected with audiences when he transformed himself into an androgynous space alien called Ziggy Stardust. Touring the United States for the first time in 1972 behind The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars, Bowie’s celebrated appearance at the Santa Monica Civic in Los Angeles was broadcast live on October 20, 1972 on the legendary radio station KMET. It eventually became a highly collectible bootleg. Over three decades later, the recording has been dusted off, given a nice rinsing and repackaged as Live Santa Monica ’72.

Bowie became an easy target for ridicule when he dolled himself up as Ziggy. But the music was too potent to write off; tunefully melodic with riffs and hooks galore, played whimsically by guitarist Mick Ronson, bassist Trevor Bolder, drummer Mick Woodmansey and pianist Mike Garson — collectively known as the Spiders From Mars. At Santa Monica, the songs from the new album came tumbling out like silver dollars from a slot machine. “Hang Onto Yourself,” “Ziggy Stardust,” ‘Five Years,” “Moonage Daydream” “Suffragette City” and ‘Rock And Roll Suicide,” all prodded and thumped like drunk Weebles on a school night. You can almost feel the energy of the small seaside venue’s rafters shaking in the madness of Ziggy and the Spiders’ vivacious chemistry.

Serving a wild mix of Clockwork Orange inspired theatrics with a provocative bend, Bowie rarely steps out of character — invoking a sassy spirit in “Changes,” floating through the stratosphere during “Space Oddity,” and occasionally stripping away the excess in the simplicity of “Andy Warhol” or the raw dirtiness of “The Width Of A Circle” and “Queen Bitch.” The devoted delivery of the Velvet Underground’s “Waiting For The Man” clearly illustrates where Ziggy was finding the inspiration to push boldly into areas previously unexplored. If Live Santa Monica ’72 accomplishes anything, it shows how even in the early days of Bowie’s burgeoning career, the genius was burning like a Roman candle, ready to explode and ignite a star brighter than most. How prophetic!

The third annual VH1 Rock Honors, staged at the Pauley Pavilion on the campus of UCLA on July 12, was the first time the show celebrated the music of just one band: The Who. And what a celebration it was.

As is the custom of VH1 Rock Honors programs, younger artists came on to play the songs of the honoree. Pearl Jam held no punches when it came to delivering rockin’ versions of “Love Reign O’er Me” and “The Real Me,” both from Quadrophenia. The Foo Fighters opened the show with “Young Man Blues” and the always excellent “Bargain,” from Who’s Next.

The Flaming Lips played a Tommy medley and Incubus fired off a couple of early Who singles, “I Can See For Miles” and “I Can’t Explain.” To keep things loose and fun, Tenacious D, with Jack Black and Kyle Gass, plucked out a spunky reading of “Squeeze Box.”

The Who, of course, blew the roof open with a slew of hits including “Baba O’Riley,” “Who Are You,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and “My Generation.” Throughout the night, Adam Sandler, David Duchovny, Mila Kunis and other celebrities made introductions, while taped tributes from luminaries like Sting, Coldplay and Billy Idol filled in the gaps.

Speaking with reporters on the red carpet before the show, Roger Daltrey expressed gratitude for the honor, adding that John Entwistle and Keith Moon (both deceased but never forgotten as the Who’s irreplaceable rhythm section) were “here tonight, here in spirit.”

Pressed about a follow-up to The Who’s 2006 album, Endless Wire, their first studio album in over two decades, the singer said it all depends on Pete Townshend. “You never know what he’s writing,” he said. “It might be a rock opera or it might be a Who album. The main thing is he’s writing.”

Townshend feigned surprise when asked about a new album. “What new album?” he smirked. And what about the influence The Who has had on America? “I stole your music, ” the guitarist asserted with a grin before walking off into the sunset.

Since the advent of the DVD, a lot of incredible music video has boiled to the surface. Classic rock artists who used to hide under the table, avoiding the cameras, are now trotting out their latest concerts on DVD. With a killer 5.1 surround system, my collection of live concert DVDs is out of control. Still, the one thing I’ve noticed is the shortage of vintage footage available.

In 2005, Robin Trower released a DVD in 5.1 with a 16:9 high definition picture. Sure, it’s a feast for the eyes and ears, but I’d rather see something from 1974. I know the video and audio won’t be nearly as nice, yet that’s a sacrifice you make when you’re after classic footage by artists in their prime.

Because of my desire to see film of my favorite groups at the peak, I find myself either torrenting homemade DVDs taken from old analog video sources or clicking over to YouTube, which is overflowing with the kind of footage my friends and I talk about.

Yeah, I have a couple of buddies who are as crazy for this kind of stuff as I am. We’re all avid music collectors, and while we’re viewing a clip of say, Heart doing “Crazy On You” from 1976, we’ll contrive a contest to see who can find the entire show. Many times, after a few months, a show will turn up. Even ragged clips from tours behind Pink Floyd’s Animals, Genesis’ The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, and Jethro Tull’s A Passion Play — stuff no one besides the audiences have seen — have been cut and pasted together by a gaggle of hearty souls with highly developed technical skills and loads of spare time. Hard to believe there’s still a few missing links we need to fill in.

So while it’s great ZZ Top has a new concert DVD with a beautiful picture, awesome sound, and lots of extras, some of us would prefer a show from the 70s or 80s when the group was at the top of their game. Check out the five performance clips below and tell me you wouldn’t want to have a DVD of the whole show. I know I would.

ZZ Top - La Grange (1980)

Robin Trower – Bridge of Sighs (1974)

Foghat - Slow Ride (1978)

Kansas – Icarus (1975)

Jethro Tull – Minstrel In The Gallery (1976)

If someone would have told me 30 years ago that Black Sabbath’s lead singer Ozzy Osbourne would become a television star, I would have fought to my death denying that such a thing could ever happen in this or any other lifetime. Boy, was I wrong. Not only did The Osbournes, arguably the very first celebrity reality show, become a bona fide hit — now Ozzy and his clan are set to host a variety show of their very own. And they have the geniuses behind American Idol to back them up.

In the 60s, variety shows flourished when rock came along and kicked them in the pants. The Ed Sullivan Show played host to the Beatles, the Stones, the Doors and Herman Hermits, while The Smother Brothers Comedy Hour featured the Who, Cream and Jefferson Airplane. In the 70s, Sonny and Cher got a variety show of their own, but most legitimate rock acts were avoiding prime time. Instead, shows like ABC’s In Concert, Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert and The Midnight Special started popping up, capturing slews of bands on stage and rocking hard late into the night.

I once attended a taping of Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert in 1974. It took place at the old Long Beach Civic Center and featured Steppenwolf, Labelle, Ozark Mountain Daredevils, Brian Auger’s Oblivion Express and Average White Band. I arrived at 5:00 in the afternoon and didn’t leave until well after 1:00 in the morning, on a school night no less. It was a long, tedious night due to set changes and numerous takes to get things just right. The spontaneity that is rock and roll got lost in the shuffle. Still, some of the performances were memorable and I got my first whiff of low-grade grass. Oh to be young in the early 70s.

With the arrival of MTV, the ill-defined relationship between television and music became more pronounced and significant. Lots of traditionalists weren’t too happy with the monumental shift that MTV introduced to the music biz. Music videos became essential marketing tools, and if you couldn’t adapt, you were dead in the water. Even groups like ZZ Top and the Grateful Dead — you know, bands without flashy images — found ways to make music videos. But as the video game became over saturated, shunning the process became almost as cool as embracing it.

The 90s functioned more as a transitive period until the reality TV phenomenon came about, and suddenly every star with an eye for more exposure was lining up for a close-up and a reality show of their own. The Osbournes certainly had its moments, and it set a precedent for others shows to follow. VH1 dumped a lot of its music-based programming, and switched over to celebrity-based reality shows. Many of these were filled with rock musicians hoping to revive careers hovering on the brink of irrelevance. What they hoped to accomplish by appearing on The Surreal Life is anyone’s guess.

While blasting The Osbournes for their behavior, Gene Simmons went on to create Family Jewels, a reality show of his own, that virtually copied every frame from The Osbournes’ playbook, albeit with less raunch and profanity. Hoping to cash in on the American Idol phenomenon, CBS rolled out Rock Star, pitting various unknown lead singers against one another for the crown of fronting a world-class band. In this case, singing for INXS and then a short-lived band lead by Tommy Lee didn’t amount to much. The love fest between TV and music can get downright silly.

So, what are we to expect from the Prince of Darkness, his headstrong wife, and their two “celebritized” kids? According to one report, the new show, with a working title of The Osbournes: Loud and Dangerous or The Osbournes’ Super-Terrific Happy Hour, will “mix elements of competition, stunts and performances.” Guess they forgot about the music, huh?