(19th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Spotlight on Mick Taylor: A Touch of Finesse"

Song: Can’t You Hear Me Knocking

Album: Sticky Fingers

Released: April, 1971

Spotlight on: Mick Taylor

I’m thinking it was sometime around 1978.  Dad walked into my room early one evening after work.  This was unusual, because Dad seldom forayed into the side of the upstairs that comprised of Fred’s and my bedrooms.  It may have been in response to the fact that, where normally I could be found downstairs during some stretch of time before or after dinner, on this night it was not happening.  I was preoccupied.  And so Dad came to me, in all likelihood just to say hello.  

The reason I was preoccupied was that I was listening intensely to a song on my turntable (which I will get to in much more detail in a moment).  By the time Dad had showed up, I may have been on my 10^th to 15^th replay; I was mesmerized by what I was hearing, and he had walked smack dab into it. 

As I recall, it appeared to me at the time that Dad was ok with just giving a wave and heading back downstairs.  But he hesitated and so I seized the moment and suggested that he give this music a listen.  Dad obliged, and stood there for a few minutes, taking in the notes of an amazing lead guitar solo near the end of the song.  I remember now appreciating that he took the time to do this.  Rock n’ Roll was not his style. 

When the song ended, Dad made a minor concession: “Nice sound system”, or something along those lines.  Fine enough.  However, I knew it was more than that.  I could tell Dad was impressed.  His reaction was a big moment for me:  For perhaps the first time, I felt as if I were introducing him to some new concept, though I could not describe exactly what it was.  Dad allowed me this false triumph, as I would not realize until years later that he already had this concept under his belt for quite some time.  Today I can finally define it.  What’s that you ask?  Well, that would be the concept known as finesse.

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There is no mistaking finesse, is there?  Defined as “intricate and refined delicacy”, there should be little doubt that no matter your age or where you are from, when it’s there in front of you, you know it.  Finesse can be expressed in many ways, connecting with at least three of our senses.  First off, there is the visual; a dancer perhaps (Ginger Rogers, Fred Astaire) or an athlete (Michael Jordan, Bobby Orr).  Secondly is realizing someone has finesse through the sense of touch; I’ll leave that one to the imagination.  Finally, you also pick up on it with your ears.  And although finesse can be associated with a great orator, such as a politician, actor or poet, it’s the musician that comes most immediately to my mind in terms of hearing it.

Finesse is most often associated with music forms such as Classical and Opera, which, as I would discover later, was the world Dad would already have had ample experience in (well, at least the Classical).  But Rock n’ Roll has had its fair share of refined delicacy; Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck have it and express it in their guitar playing.  Same goes for Carlos Santana and Jerry Garcia.  Another guitarist with finesse, Mick Taylor, flies a bit more under the radar.  Taylor has played with numerous musicians over the years, including John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, but it was his stint with the Rolling Stones during their imperial years in the late 60s and early 70s that he will be most remembered.
  

And so yes, it was Mick Taylor’s lead guitar playing that I was listening to that evening Dad walked in my room.  The song, as some may have already deciphered, was Can’t You Hear Me Knocking, specifically the closing 3 minutes. It’s a song that lead to my discovery of finesse in Rock n’ Roll, one of a handful of quantum leap moments I have had in my lifetime when listening to music.  These were moments when I would come to new understandings of music’s effects; its power in broadening the mind (another was watching The Who perform A Quick One in ‘The Kids are Alright’, which is discussed in Gem Video # 12 “The Awakening”)

Charlie Watts came up with the word “finesse” in a recent interview to describe the most important musical attribute that Mick Taylor brought to the Rolling Stones.  If anyone else comes close in the band, I suppose Charlie is that guy….it takes one to know one.  I believe the Stones were graced to have this added angle in their repertoire for however brief a time.  Mick Taylor was a 19 year old, dough-faced prodigy when he joined the Stones soon after Brian Jones dismissal in 1969.  He would quit the band six years later.  It was the only stretch of time where the Rolling Stones had a true lead guitarist, and it could be argued that it was the only time the Stones had finesse.

Finesse can be magical, but for these ears, it can’t stand alone.  I usually get a bit bored when this is the case.  For example, though I know he is extremely talented, Jeff Beck’s guitar playing does little for me.  He just does not have the right cast of characters with him.  There needs to be other stuff surrounding finesse.  In the case of Can’t You Hear Me Knocking, that other stuff is all sorts of things.  It’s the raunchy Richards riffs opening the first half of the song, which is almost a contrasting juxtaposition of what happens later (and I love the accompanying backing vocals, and Mick Jagger’s singing, including the line “throw me down the keys”, followed by a timely “Alright!” as if he just caught them).  Side Note: this first half of the song took some time getting used to, and is probably what stops a non-Rocker dead in their tracks before getting to the finesse later; also, it’s Richards staccato pops at the start of Mick Taylor’s solo (which I will elucidate on more below); it’s Bill Wyman’s steady yet creative bass strumming; it’s Charlie Watts’ heavy-on-the-cymbal clanging throughout the second-half instrumental-portion of the song; it’s Rocky Dijon’s congas; it’s Bobby Keys intro saxophone which initiates the instrumental portion of the song.  And most importantly, it’s the spontaneity.

Ahh yes, the spontaneity.  In the Rock and Jazz worlds, this is a term typically affiliated with jamming, which is something the Stones have never really been known for, not in the same way as the Allman Brothers, the Grateful Dead, Crazy Horse and the Who, anyhow.  But this is what happens in Can’t You Hear Me Knocking, starting off at the conclusion of the premeditated first half of the song at the 2:43 mark of the attached url (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fa4HUiFJ6c).  From that point on it was all improvisation, which makes Mick Taylor’s guitar solo at the 4:40 mark all that more impressive. 

Here’s how I picture the 2^nd half of the song unfolding (all times have been captured in the url link): 

1.       Everyone starts putting down their instruments except for Keith on guitar, Rocky Dijon on congas, and someone else (Jagger?) on maracas (2:43)

2.       Bobby Keys settles back in, starts his saxophone solo (2:58).  Charlie and Bill settle back in around the same time, rounding out the backbeat.

3.       Mick Taylor settles back in with a soft un-intrusive sound, but then begins hinting at his own solo with a couple of high notes on his lead guitar (3:41)

4.       Taylor gets a bit more serious with some high pitched rhythmic tuning. Keys continues his solo (3:49)

5.       Keys gets the hint, but not before finishing his solo with a flourish (up to the 4:26 mark).  It almost feels as if Keys is letting the young buck (Taylor) know that if he’s going to give it a go, this is how it’s done.

6.       Mick Taylor begins his 3 minutes of fame (4:40).  I’m reminded of the movie ‘Walk the Line’ when Sam Phillips (Dallas Roberts) tells Johnny Cash (Joaquin Phoenix) to play something that moves him.  Cash then kicks the band into Folsom Prison Blues, leading to a record deal.

7.       Keith Richards supports Taylor for a time with those staccato guitar pops, but this support starts to dissolve by the 5:15 mark, likely due to Keith taking in the moment (he later gets his rhythm back).

8.       Mick Taylor gets the attention of that other Mick in the band, who lets out a “Hey!” at the 4:50 mark

9.       Finesse takes full control of the wheels for several minutes

10.   Charlie adds a nice touch on the symbols (6:28), seemingly heavily inspired by this point

11.   The jam ends as great as it began (7:16)

I had a recent brush with spontaneity just this past Monday that gained me a fresh appreciation for what happened to the Stones in the studio during the production of Can’t You Hear Me Knocking.  I participated in a fairly new concept called Lightning Talks, whereby many speakers give 5 minute back to back to back presentations.  Each speaker has exactly 20 slides, and the slides automatically advance after 15 seconds whether you are ready or not. 

The format had this grizzled veteran of public speaking sweating at the palms and feeling a bit queasy at times.  Heck, even a longtime tenured professor I greatly admire, who was sitting next to me and presenting just before me, was nervous.  In fact, just after a handful of talks (and before our talks) he leaned over to me and said “we are screwed”.  But, you know, it worked, for both of us.  Something kicked in.  I’m not sure where it came from, but at the same time, I’m not sure Mick Taylor and the Stones knew either.  It can be amazing what you can pull off when you really want (or need) to do something at the spur of the moment.

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To close this week’s Stepping Stone, I go back to Dad and his long-standing appreciation of finesse.  Years after my discovery of it, I would occasionally catch him in his study, taking in a Mozart symphony, concerto, or opera.  Sometimes Dad’s eyes would be closed (which is the best way to take in finesse), but when his eyes were open, he would see me and call me in, much like I did to him as a teenager on that quantum-leap evening.  Then I would sit down and listen.  The finesse was all around me. 

And not just coming out of the speakers.

-          Pete

(18th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Staying the Course"

Song: Laugh, I Nearly Died

Album: A Bigger Bang

Released: September, 2005

Not Fade Away:  If there is a Rock n’ Roll mantra, this is it.  Neil Young went as far to say that it is better to burn out if it comes to that as being the only alternative; a bit extreme, though to his credit he did also emphasize that “once your gone, you can’t come back”.  In other words, don’t burn out.  Too bad Kurt Cobain did not take in that part of the lyrics.  As they say, always read the fine print.

In general, “Not Fade Away” is a great adage to live by.  It can get tricky, though.  Stick with something long enough and you just might fade away.  When does the “Peter Principle” kick in; that “rise to your level of incompetence”?  When do you know that it is time to quit, to move on, to leave on a high note?   

Turns out the band R.E.M. had it figured it out.  It could easily be argued that they were still at the top of their game when they disbanded recently after a 30-year run.  Same could be said for Led Zeppelin, though their hand was forced somewhat with the loss of their drummer. Barry Sanders nailed it.  So did “Seinfeld”.  On the flip side there’s The Eagles, Stan Musial and M*A*S*H to symbolize the risk of dragging things out beyond the expiration date. They are not alone though: More often, that is the path taken.  It can be awfully difficult to know when to fold ‘em.  You never know if another burst of whatever it is you had before is just around the bend.

So, we have burn out. We have fade (rust).  We have leaving on a high note. 

And then we have the Rolling Stones.

Ten years ago, during a 60 Minutes interview, Ed Bradley made the astute observation while interviewing Keith Richards that Keith appeared to place a very high value on continuity.  Richards’ eyes lit up.  Bradley had nailed it.  He had gotten to the core of what drives Keith Richards, and in the process explained, at the very least, a major driving force behind the longevity of the Rolling Stones.  But longevity is only one side effect of continuity, as the two terms are not exactly synonymous.  Longevity is synonymous with durability, a noble trait, yet a bit close for comfort to the potential for rust.  Continuity is more than that.  It’s the state of stability.  It’s the absence of disruption.  You can be durable without being stable, but not the other way around.

At a glance, the Stones don’t come across as all that stable through the years.  Their history is a bit of a roller coaster ride:  Even keeled in the early to mid-60s, biding their time while the Beatles were soaring; climbing high during a four album stretch from ’68 to ’72, when they were the biggest game in town; sweeping back down in the mid ‘70s, burn out rearing its ugly head; a second climb in the late 70s to early 80s, while brilliantly connecting the dots with all the trends of the time; another drop in the mid to late 80s, infighting almost ending it all; and finally another leveling off (much like their beginnings) playing out through the 90s and 00s, a surprising rejuvenation capped by the emergence of mega tours.

No other band has been able to pull such a lengthy ride off to near the level of excitement, and this is where the whole of the Rolling Stones continuity can begin to be envisioned.  Everything with continuity has its ups and downs, including a good marriage, a good friendship, or a good partnership.  But it takes work and endless passion.  Keith Richards has that.  I see this pretty clearly now, because if there is anything I can relate to with Mr. Richards it’s my own high value of continuity and what it takes to make things work.  I know what it’s like to be the last one standing behind an ideal; to be the persuader; to be the dreamer.  It does not always play out the way you would hope, but persistence pays off in a good way more often than not.

Back to R.E.M. for a moment; the consummate “end it on top” band.  These guys were an incredible live act in spite of the fact that they would typically refuse to play any songs on their tours that were older than the 3 studio albums prior.  In fact, I would be willing to bet that if there was enough material on their at-the-time most-recent album for a 3 hour show, they would have played music from it and nothing else.  This stance was a curious one, seeing as by the 90s R.E.M. had a deep and rich catalog to choose from, and I’m sure the old nuggets would have been refreshing for them to play on occasion.  But the three-album-window approach worked for them:  The sound was always dead on; the band’s performance consistently sublime. 

But the questions remain:  Why such a stance and how was it that the sound was always so good?  I believe at least some of the reasoning was that R.E.M. did not want to rest on their laurels.  Was there a fear of stagnation?  If so, it never happened.  On the contrary, the band remained sharp, creative and ambitious to the end, which again, came across in the live shows.  The crowd sensed this, and cut them a lot of slack.  No chestnuts?  Ok, than the newest stuff better sound damn good.  And man did it ever, each and every time.  R.E.M. lived up to that old Rock n’ Roll mantra:  Not Fade Away.  Not many bands can make that claim.  And their approach appears to have been intentional, particularly now that they’ve hung up the cleats on that proverbial high note.

If the Rolling Stones had to rely on their last 3 albums to tour on now, ‘Voodoo Lounge’ (1994), ‘Bridges to Babylon’ (1997) and ‘A Bigger Bang’ (2006), I think they would be in pretty good shape music wise.  Though their own studio career has had its ups and downs, these 3 albums have held up rather well.  The crowd may not appreciate it if they did this:  Too many expectations on what constitutes a great Stones show.  The bar has been raised awfully high over the decades, so while the most recent releases are solid, they are somewhat lost in the already crowded vault.  The Stones are in many ways victims of their own success.  But they can also stake claim to the Not Fade Away mantra: It’ rare when a band (or anything for that matter) sees itself to its natural conclusion.  If the Stones were to call it quits today, they could make this claim.  There’s no rust on them.  They’ve simply come full circle.

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I have to admit to a bit of a comedown this week after the ‘Exile on Main Street’ experience last week.  Why I chose the other Stones double studio album, ‘A Bigger Bang’ immediately after, I have no idea.  I must say, burn out, or at least rust, slipped in here and there.  Not fair to this album, a very good one.  I will have to come back to it again later.  This time around, I latched on to the song Laugh, I Nearly Died ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x50YVcEZM68&feature=related ) for this week’s Stepping Stone. As with any great song, this one hits you from many angles:  In this case the lyrics, the backing vocals during the bridge, and the ominous sounding guitar.  The Stones still had it in them with their last release.  Hopefully there is another one left in the tank.  If not, however, that natural conclusion has already been reached.  Anything more is gravy.

-          Pete

(17th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Tapping into my inner Grasshopper"

Song: Shine a Light

Album: Exile on Main Street

Released: May, 1972

Mental hurdles can be tough to overcome, and it seems the older you get the tougher it gets.  We all become set in our ways after a time, don’t we?   Those unused synapses simply close shop.  Sure many of us try new things later in life, but the way we go about our business gets more predictable; we revert to coming up with solutions to problems in more of a hard coded manner.  I suppose it’s a good thing in the ‘glass half full’ way of looking at it.  Loyal people for the most part remain loyal.  Faithful people remain faithful.  Romantic types remain romantic.  Technical folks remain technically savvy.  On the flip side though, if you lack in any particular positive quality, is there a chance later in life that you can change?  Can a light shine on those deficiencies to make you a more well-rounded if not better person?  At the very least, can you gain new insights into previously difficult-to-grasp concepts?

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If there was anything I wanted to get out of these Stepping Stones from a music standpoint, it was to make a deeper connection with the 1972 double album ‘Exile on Main Street’.  I’ve known for years that ‘Exile’ deserves a boatload of praise: It is after all a resounding, critically acclaimed piece of work, earning a top 10 spot in virtually every Rock-album all-time list.  But there was disconnect:  I liked it, but I did not love it.  This mind block (which I openly admit to calling it) could make things difficult for personal reflections/reviews like these, because even though my primary music related focus in this forum is on individual songs, the greatest of albums have the potential to lift up those component tunes to loftier places.  I was missing out on that potential in a big way and I knew it. I’d made a few inroads here and there; selected tracks; a keen understanding of how the album fit the times; a sense for the unique vagabond, bohemian flavor.  But being able to honestly convey an insight into that top-tier reputation for the album as a whole remained elusive.  I needed to get to that point.

Indeed, thinking back recently to why I chose the Stones as the first series centerpiece focused on favorite musicians, I recalled part of my reasoning being that I had some concern with not yet having cleared this mental hurdle.  In other words, how much longer did I have?  I am after all turning 50 this year.  Would there be any hope afterwards?  The younger mind is more adaptable to new ways of thinking.  49 is better than 50.  Yet, more than simply clearing a hurdle, a bit of ‘reverse engineering’ would be needed in relation to making new ties to the Rolling Stones, Rock music, and ‘Exile on Main Street’. I needed to step back and take a different tact.

And so, I gave ‘Exile’ numerous additional listens over the past 4 months, the most concerted stretch being for Stepping Stone # 3, which focused on the song Rocks Off; the tune that opens the album.  But the very fact that Rocks Off is the opening track made that particular effort one that never really got off the ground (which had little effect on that Stepping Stone seeing as the tune was already one of my all-time favorites).  However, this and other false starts did get me closer:  To the ground level so to speak, which now sat on top a foundation, poured and hardened over many years.

Then, finally early this week, I started down the path of enlightenment.  And once it started, it snowballed; thoughts and insights cascading as each song suddenly and seamlessly rolled into the next.  I had visions of years gone by when I would be able to make this type of transition much more effortlessly, sometimes even in my sleep.  And here I was again, no longer just reading, hearing and parsing out bits and pieces, but now feeling the whole of ‘Exile on Main Street’:  Mind over matter, grooving to the sound of an A-list band in its heyday prime.

What did it take to break on through to the other side?  To describe the process in the best way possible, I refer back to the old T.V. series “Kung Fu”, on which ‘Grasshopper’ would often reflect back on the spiritual training given him at a young age by his Master on ways to take the proper path when confronting problems.  The lessons the Master taught were often deep and over the young Grasshopper’s head, but years later they would apply.  For me it’s a bit harder to define who the Master is, or the Grasshopper for that matter: My Ego and Id perhaps?  My young and older self (which is the Master, which is the Grasshopper?).  Or flashbacks, however vague, of similar lessons from similar savant types in my life:  I certainly have had my fair share.  Regardless, the big question “Did I still have some of that Grasshopper in me?” was answered in the affirmative.

So, here’s a loose interpretation of what transpired this week as ‘Exile on Main Street’ made the transition in my mind from good to great: 

“Grasshopper, you’ve been going about this album all wrong. First off you must try to break it down.  There are 4 sides to a double album, or don’t you remember?” 

Yes, it’s true.  I had been going about this all wrong.  Although I purchased ‘Exile on Main Street’ at least 25 years ago, it proved to be the victim of a transition period for me from album to compact disk.  At the same time the cartridge on my turntable was giving me problems, and so I jumped ship.  Yet looking back, most every album I love, I’ve been able to break down to A and B sides.  In the case of double albums like ‘Exile’, this process was even more important:  ‘Quadrophenia’.  ‘The Beatles (White Album)’, ‘All Things Must Pass’.  These all had to be broken down first.  There is meaning to this.  It can all be overwhelming otherwise:  Too difficult to take it all in at once. 

And so, the first thing I did was break things down.  Side A is heavy with a Rock sound; heavy, but now much easier to wrap my arms around.  Immediately, side B made much more sense:  An all-acoustic side.  Now it sounded incredible as a coherent stretch of music: ‘Sweet Virginia’, ‘Torn and Frayed’, ‘Sweet Black Angel’, and the amazing ‘Loving Cup’.  These songs not only began sounding consistent, they now all came across as deep and unguarded; uncharacteristic traits for the Rolling Stones.  ‘Happy’ opens up side C.  Interesting:  A Keith lead vocal opening up a side, and rightfully so.  I’d forgotten this completely.  Side C also includes two very spiritual gospel songs, Just Want to See His Face and Let It Loose (which both include Dr John and his backup singers).  The Stones were doing this before Dylan and around the same time as Harrison and Townshend?  Wow!  Side D ends the album on a solid high note.  No drop off here, which can’t be said for many other double albums. This alone makes Side D intense, and it also confirms just how much material the Stones had to work with at the time.

“Grasshopper, you must take a long drive.  Take it all in slow and steady.”

Yes, it’s amazing what a long ride can do.  And so, for my work trip to Harrisburg PA this week, the first thing in the car was ‘Exile’.  Riding along the Appalachian Trail, over the Connecticut, Hudson, Delaware, and Susquehanna Rivers, I thought of that commercial with the older man and the young boy on a train; the man listening to classical music on headphones and looking out at the mountain vistas; the young boy asking what the man was listening too; the man pointing at the mountains and saying “that”. 

“Grasshopper, enjoy some of the lyrics, print them out (large print) for the ride.  Remember reading lyrics?” 

Yes, I did not think this would be much of a factor with these Stones songs, but it was.  There’s Sweet Black Angel, a protest song about then jailed activist Angela Davis (“Not a gun toting teacher, not a Red lovin’ school Mom”).  There’s Loving Cup:  What a beautiful buzz!  “Yes I’m nitty gritty and my shirts all torn.  But I would love to spill the beans with you till dawn”.  Tumbling Dice gets the rise to that ‘loftier place’ mentioned earlier (“but baby, baby, there’s fever in the funk house now”).  Ventilator Blues:  I’d always thought the lyrics at the end stated “Don’t fight it”. The lyrics are actually “Gonna fight it”.  Big correction there. Much better.

I’d already discussed Rocks Off in Stepping Stone # 3, but conceptually related to it is the lyric-loaded Torn and Frayed, which is sure to have its own entry in weeks to come, and this week’s Stepping Stone, Shine a Light ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPbozLRU3so ), which includes the classic lines:
 

When you're drunk in the alley, baby, with your clothes all torn
And your late night friends leave you in the cold gray dawn.
Just seemed too many flies on you, I just can't brush them off.
Angels beating all their wings in time,
With smiles on their faces and a gleam right in their eyes.
Whoa, thought I heard one sigh for you,
Come on up, come on up, now, come on up now.

“Grasshopper, forget the South of France (where the album was produced while the Stones were in tax ‘exile’).  What is this album really talking about?”

Yes, America!  The Stones truly became American with this album.  No English band had ever done this before.  The Beatles were extraordinary, but always viewed as a British band.  The Kinks, Led Zeppelin, The Animals, Herman’s Hermits: All English.  Only one other band from overseas, The Who, would also be able to pull this off.  But where the Who connected themselves with the intellectual and industrial northeast, the Stones did so with the entire country:  North, South, East and West.  And boy does this ever come across on ‘Exile’.  There’s the Joshua Tree “desert in toenails” of California in Sweet Virginia.  There’s the entire lyrical content of Rip This Joint and Casino Boogie.  There’s gospel.  There’s blues.  The Stones were feeling it.  Heck, they had already lived it more than most native-born Americans.

This is truly one of the great things about the Rolling Stones.  They have been able to identify themselves with the American Experience, and will forever be part of our history:  An American love affair of sorts.  There are very few overseas types, be they entertainers, politicians, poets, writers, whoever, who can make that claim.  The Stones have a little Clint Eastwood about them.  A little Muddy Waters.  A little Jerry Garcia.   And a lot themselves.  The story goes that while ‘exiled’ in the south of France, the food of choice was from a local American burger and fries joint.  Kinda reminds me of the Mainguy clan:  Misplaced Americans in a foreign land.

“Grasshopper, think of the Rolling Stones in a different light here”

Yes, this is true.  Ah, the glories of youth, and the Stones capitalize on it all here.  This is a band clicking on all cylinders.  And what a sound: Drums, vocals, horns, piano, guitars, bass, organ, all of it.  More interesting though is that this is an album where the band removes all constraints, freely discussing their spirituality, their insecurities, and their concerns.  Why didn’t the Stones do more of this in their career?  I’m not complaining as there’s plenty of other bands to turn to for these elements.  And the Stones did just fine later when they lifted that veil back up.  I’m just curious. 

“Grasshopper, connect with an old friend while on the road:  A true master in the world of music”. 

Yes, the final stroke.  It just so happened that this trip would allow me to connect with longtime friend, Jeff Strause, on my way to Harrisburg.  Jeff, as in Mr Music Event.  As in “I don’t know anyone who has seen more great shows”.  As with any visit with Jeff, this one gave me more insight into the music world.  Any general discussion of music helps me in writing these Stepping Stones; particularly with someone as knowledgeable as Mr. Strause.

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Like the Boston Celtics dynasty of the 60s, the Stones were at the peak of their game during the production of ‘Exile on Main Street’.  And like those Celtics, they delivered.  Take this from one who (finally) knows. I sensed this before, but I did not feel it.  I feel it now.

Perhaps there was no need to rush on this mental hurdle, but I’m glad I did.  And I learned something else from it:  I’ve still got a bit of Grasshopper left in me.  Will it last?  I’m not so sure.  After all, I’m still only 49.  Ask me again next year.  I’ll test some other mental hurdle; try to tap again into the Master and Grasshopper inside.  Try again to Shine a Light: See if it still works.

-          Pete

(16th in a series of) Stepping Stones "In Support of the Arts"

Song: Start Me Up

Album: Tattoo You

Released: August, 1981

It’s been many years since the Rolling Stones had a Billboard Number One Hit:  That would be Miss You in 1978 (which was their 8^th Number One, the first being Satisfaction in 1965).  They did come very close again three years later however, reaching the Number Two spot with Start Me Up, this week’s Stepping Stone ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=BG2b3VhSCC4 ).  Although Miss You and Start Me Up ended up on different albums, the story goes that the final-cut versions of these two songs were performed live in the studio, back to back on the same day; Miss You as pretty much a one-off, followed by Start Me Up, which had been through many iterations in prior studio sessions as a Reggae beat, before the Stones finally settled on the classic Rock sound heard on the Tattoo You album.  Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that Rock moment.  With Miss You as a Number One, and Start Me Up several years later as a Number Two, The Stones gave a new definition to the term ‘One Two Punch’.

Hits by any of my favorite musicians are not always great songs to these ears, but Start Me Up most definitely is.  I like the fact that it sounds like this is simply the five core band members, along with their four core instruments (other than perhaps the overdubbed, synchronized clapping, since I can’t picture Keith Richards doing this).  That’s a lot of fun sound coming out of two guitars, a bass, and drums.  Also, it’s pretty cool the Stones were able to top the charts at roughly the 20 year mark of their formation.  It’s also pretty cool that a song produced this far into the band’s history would not only become a routine part of the live set list, but would often be used from that point on as the opening salvo to introduce the group to the crowd on any given evening.

Since 1981 though, nothing has come quite as close to Start Me Up in terms of being a “Hit” for the Stones.  They are not alone.  In general, the Rock n’ Roll world has come face to face with a strange new reality in recent years.  No longer the powerhouse of yesteryear, Rock music registers rarely now on the top of the Billboard charts, transplanted by the likes of Hip Hop and the relentless surge of Pop.  Gone are the days when Rock songs dominated the charts with a consistent influx of cutting-edge grooves.  This is not to say there is a lack of raw talent out there:  There most certainly is a wealth of it.  But the phenomenon is gone, at least for the time being, and the newcomers are no longer able to ride the wave, now having to struggle like any artist who follows an inner beck and call instead of a fad.

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History documents many cases where the loss of power, particularly longstanding power, leaves the former movers and shakers in a very vulnerable position.  This cold hard fact has proven no different for Rock’s elder statesman.  For those who were never really on board with the Baby Boom musical cornerstone called Rock n’ Roll, particularly those in the same generation, it is much easier now to lash out.  So the digs seep into the discussion easier and with more frequency now for the diggers, who take aim at the weak spots, such as excess (Jerry Garcia, Keith Moon); the yearning for utopia (Neil Young, John Lennon); ‘old men’ rocking into a seeming caricature of themselves (Mick Jagger, Keith Richards); accusations, however false (Pete Townshend); and the overall rock ethos itself.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I recently got knocked back by a dig from a friend when I asked him if he wanted to join Mac and I to see the upcoming Roger Waters “The Wall” concert at Fenway Park.  His reply was something along the lines of “zero chance of finding myself in that Occupy Wall Street crowd”.  What?  I responded  saying that I had no idea what he would allow himself to see anymore, and the next time I were to ask him if he wanted to see a show would be if I were holding tickets to see Tony Bennett or Barry Manilow.  Is that safe enough for you, buddy boy?

The dig was emblematic of my already well-developed suspicions:  Yes, the vultures are circling, aren’t they?  I won’t hold it against my old chum, though.  There was a bit of good natured needling mixed into our exchange.  But there was an element of serious jockeying as well.  I could have raised the ante if I wanted, as I did refrain from referencing a few lyrics from Bob Dylan’s Only a Pawn in Their Game.  I’m sure he could have notched it up too.  Regardless, it’s clear to me that we are living in different times then when we were younger.  That type of joking, if that’s what it was, would have been off limits way back when.  At the very least it can all be chalked up to our changing nature as we grow older.  But I think it’s more than that; a cultural divide that grows wider by the day.  It may go back to the book "Shut Up and Sing" (see Gem Music Video # 76).  Anyone who bought into it has basically cut themselves off at the knees.  Goodbye Rock.  Hello Easy Listening, any Country but the 'Outlaw' kind, elevator muzak, and maybe a bit of Ted Nugent sprinkled in....just to keep that edge.

Indeed, “the times they are a changin”.  One side effect is that, incredible as it may seem, old time Rock musicians are now subject to the same dated image that those crooners and swingers from the 40s and 50s faced in the 60s.  There’s just not enough pride out there to pass on the good vibes of the music and what it all means to our kids.  Though I do agree that it’s good for them to find their own way with their own musical interests, there is so much they can learn from in the music of the Baby Boomer Generation.  Personally, I think it’s one of the best things we as a generation can lay claim to and pass on to them.  Which brings me back to that Rock ethos thing: There’s a lot of independent spirit in Rock music; a lot of free thinking; and like any good art, a lot of truth. 

On the plus side it has become apparent that the Rock genre has survived for the long haul, as it no longer appears to be a young man’s game.  There’s enough of us diehards out there to continue guaranteeing that solid, well reviewed tours of established bands still sellout at good clip.  I’m happy to say I’ve done my fair share of support over the years.  But nothing like some folks I know.  One of these folks is a fellow soccer Dad in town who I converse with quite frequently on the sidelines of Peter’s games.   Being a very successful businessman, this guy can support his love for live Rock music, and then some.  He has attended an incredible amount of shows over the years.  And he does not go alone; he takes the entire family, which includes his teenage kids who are well versed in the ongoing live Rock music scene. The shows that these young buds have attended include the likes of Ray Davies, Roger Daltrey, J Geils, Bruce Springsteen, Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan, The Cars, Rat Dog, Hot Tuna, and Nick Lowe.  Oh, and Roger Waters (“The Wall” tour swept through the area once already, last fall).  The list is endless.  These kids are going places.

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Epilogue: For years I carried with me a slightly guilty feeling that I have not been supporting the arts nearly to the degree that my parents have done.  After a few nights of writing and reflection, I realize now that I was looking through the prism of their eyes:  Classical concerts, art museums, musicals, theater, and opera.  Rock concerts fit right in though:  It’s become easier to convince myself of that.  This being the case, my support for the arts over the years can now be bumped up exponentially from dozens to hundreds, and that trend should continue, as my enthusiasm for a good show has not waned. 

So Start Me Up all you ladies and gents taking center stage to rock out on any given night at any given venue, be it a stadium, arena, theater, night club, or tavern.  I’ll be the guy in crowd in the tuxedo…. you know, supporting the arts.

-          Pete

(15th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Wheels of Fortune"

Song: Blinded by Love

Album: Steel Wheels

Released: August, 1989

As mentioned before (Gem Music Video # 54) the year 1989 was somewhat of a watershed for me in regards to music. When adding up the quantity and quality of all the live shows, album purchases, radio play, and even conversation with friends, the music was centric and all encompassing.  I’m pretty sure the vast majority if not all of my reading that year, whether magazine articles or books, was music-related as well.

The two biggest shows I attended in 1989 were the Who (July) and the Rolling Stones (October), each at the old Sullivan Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts.   In many ways both of these were ‘reunion’ tours.  For the Who, it was truly a reunion, as they had formally disbanded in 1983.  As for the Stones, although they have never officially called it quits at any time in their 50 year history, the years leading up to ‘89 were for all practical purposes a disbanding.  For Stones aficionados, it was hard to witness: The band that had made it through the toughest of times in the 60s and 70s had finally fallen prey to the same factors that had split up many of their contemporaries many years earlier, including creative differences, solo efforts, and public back stabbing through the press.  

Although there were many similarities in the two tours related to the concept of reunion, there was one big difference:  The Who were relying almost entirely on a back catalog of songs for their set list (there was some new solo Townshend music sprinkled in) while the Stones had released “Steel Wheels”, an album of new material, prior to their tour (the name Steel Wheels was also given to the tour).  This singular distinction would make all the difference in the general sense of fervor, vibes and intensity leading up to and encompassing these shows.

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I got wind of concert tickets going on sale for the Stones’ Steel Wheels Foxborough appearance via WBCN’s (104.1 FM) morning show “The Big Mattress”.  The big news aired on a weekday during my commute into Boston.  In those days I was working for USGS in the Tip O’Neill Building near North Station.  Commuting from Waltham could be monotonous no matter what you tried, and so I often mixed it up: Green Line for a stretch of time; Red Line another; MBTA train from Waltham yet another.  I would also drive on occasion, finding parking in oddball locations under the overpass which connected Storrow Drive to the Expressway (if you got there early enough).  Fortunately this was my commute of choice on that sunny summer day, DJ Charles Laquidara giving me the low down on the where (Quincy Market) and when (12 noon) for tickets.

Once in the office, I filled in colleague, good friend, and fellow Stones fan, Saiping, on the new lunch plans, and the two of us made the trek over to Faneuil Hall an hour before the ticket booth opened up.  We already had made the determination that at least a portion of the day would have to cut into our then-meager annual leave time.  But when we saw the line, already distressingly long and winding its way around half a block behind the kiosk, we realized we were in for a bit longer of a day off, possibly the entire afternoon.  After adjusting our mindsets to the decision that this was simply what had to be, we planted ourselves at the tail end of the line, which before long had become a midsection.

At noon, there was an audible rumble up front.  After a bit more time the line began to move, but it was at a snail’s pace, much slower than expected.  I told Saiping I was going to see what the deal was.  She kept our place and I walked up around the bend toward the kiosk.  When I got there, standing off to the side somewhat, I discovered there was a new concept in play:  Wristbands.  Still novel at the time, wristbands were used as an intermediate step, assigning you placement in a future line (typically a day or two later) for the final ticket purchase.  The idea (gimmick?) was to make the process a bit more orderly and reduce the potential for scalping. 

Remaining off to the side, I was tipped off by someone that there were two types of wristbands being offered:  Wristbands for seating in the stands and wristbands for (supposed) “festival seating” on the field (which meant first come, best standing position).  The folks up front who had been waiting all morning wanted only one thing:  Guaranteed good seats in the stands near the side of the stage.  That rumble I had heard earlier then became obvious:  The wristbands were being handed out by several kiosk workers making their way through the crowd in the immediate area around the kiosk, and the line up front had dissolved into a logjam as those who had received wristbands were trying to get more information on what was next.

One of the kiosk workers was holding all of the festival wristbands and almost pleading with the crowd.  No takers.  He looked around and repeated something along the lines of “floor seating wristbands”.  Off to the side, I finally said “here”.  To my surprise he walked in my direction without hesitation and slapped a wristband on me:  An amazing stroke of good fortune.  But what happened next was even more amazing as he explained that the floor plan was not festival at all, but assigned seating!  This being moments after the doors opened, I was guaranteed four great seats! 

I headed back to our place in line, wrist deep in pocket so as not to insight a feeding frenzy.  When I got there I urged Saiping with silent gestures to follow me.  She responded as if I had two heads, knowing we were losing our place in line.  But resisting logic, she obliged.  Far enough from the crowd, I revealed my wristbanded hand, explained what was happening, and suggested to Saiping to give it a try.  We worked our way around the logjam, and the same thing happened:  Same location, same kiosk worker, same result.  In fact, it was so much the same that Saiping’s position for the final ticket purchase later that week would end up being right behind mine:  The kiosk worker had not given out a single wristband in the interim between my good fortune and that of Saiping.  This would virtually guarantee all of our seats being together (which they were).  Pumped at having pulled off this coup, and with the knowledge that we had fantastic tickets to see the Rolling Stones, we made our way back to work for a productive afternoon of GIS analysis.

Much like these last few months of Stepping Stones, the weeks leading up to the Steel Wheels show was all Stones music all the time.  On the Friday before the weekend of the show, Paul from work (the ‘son of a preacher man’ discussed in the 2^nd Stepping Stone and the recipient of one of our tickets) was walking behind the Tip O’Neill building past a helicopter pad on the Charles River (typically used for traffic reports), when he watched a helicopter land and the Stones get off and into a Limo.  He managed to get their attention and a nod or two of comradery.  The band had a few days to hang in the Hub.  I believe we speculated on what they were doing with their weekend:  Ronnie probably on his way to hosting an art show on Newbury Street; Mick, a couple pints with Peter Wolf in the Fens and then off to the Kennedy Compound for a weekend of fun and sun; Charlie, a few nights at Ryles Jazz Club in Cambridge; Keith, open house in his hotel suite at the Ritz Carlton for anyone lucky enough to get the inside scoop; Bill, a quiet location to continue the writing of his 1990 autobiography “Stone Alone” (more likely a rendezvous with his lawyers and investment brokers to tally up his earning on the tour for a not-yet-announced life after the Stones).

As for the concert itself, the seats and show were over-the-top incredible.  Probably the best event I have ever seen.  The band was right on, with highlights including Tumbling Dice, Miss You, Ruby Tuesday, Honkey Tonk Women, Dead Flowers, 2000 Light Years from Home and Before They Make Me Run.  I do recall making a run-through of the set list in my head just after the show and concluding that the Stones did a masterful job of song selection; a cross section representing virtually every album they had ever made.  Not many bands can get away with that. 

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The combination of chemistry and creativity are rarely if ever recovered once lost.  Both are needed when a band makes its own music.  One is hard enough to deal with, and for more individual talents like Neil Young and Bob Dylan, creativity is the singular focus:  Lose it, and there is still realistic hope to get it back.  Both chemistry and creativity lost, though?  Now you’re shoveling shit against the tide. 

This brings me back to the contrast between the ’89 versions of the Rolling Stones and the Who.  Though the Who show was fantastic, the Stones show was closer to what you might call a Happening.   Why the difference?  Both bands had the history to grab hold of that higher calling.  I believe the difference was in the risk and effort leading up to the respective tours.  God love the Who. They are after all my favorite band, and they had every reason to cut a few corners during that period (which I do hope to discuss in detail at some time), but the Stones had more momentum going into their tour because they added a creative touch that year with their new album.  I am sure it is what transitioned their reunion into a Happening.

“Steel Wheels” the album was a big risk.  I believe the Stones knew that the old chemistry and creativity were not going to come back full boar overnight.  There would have to be a rekindling period, and that is how “Steel Wheels” comes across.  There is nothing great on the album and it’s almost naked in its honesty:  “Hey, we are trying here!” seems to scream out with every cut.  But it’s a good album.  I’ve been listening to it all over again all week, and there are no subpar songs to speak of.  A few are over produced and have the feel of Mick Jagger trying too hard (Mixed Emotions, Rock and a Hard Place) and the Keith Richards lead vocal tracks are not top draw by any means (Can’t be Seen, Slipping Away).  But again, it’s all very listenable, despite the fact that one of the best songs on the album, this week’s Stepping Stone Blinded by Love (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q98VSsahlJo) is a bit out of character:  Is this the Stones being parental?

Successful reunions with deep roots are not only great from a personal experience, they are great to witness.  There is always excitement behind the potential for the best of them.  We never did get to see a Beatles reunion, but wouldn’t it have been incredible?  Same for the original Kinks lineup, which came close to happening before Peter Quaife passed away 2 years ago.  Cream happened.  So did Simon and Garfunkel (see Gem Music Video # 36).  Then there’s all those SNL cast member reunions, and more locally, the Boston Bruins 1970 Stanley Cup Team.  Personally for me there’s been a recent reunion of old work related friends, including Saiping:  The common bond of a cutting edge past that has played out rather nicely.  And of course there was the reunion several years back of the Franklin crew, when old friend Jeff reconnected with all of us (see Gem Music Video # 86).  And finally the best of them all:  “Goldapalooza” and a week away with the entire family for Mom and Dad’s 50^th (which I do hope to write about in more detail at some time).

Keith Richards knew the Stones were back on track by the time the band convened in Montserrat to write songs for “Steel Wheels” (the title was chosen as a symbol of moving forward).  There’s a story in Rolling Stone Magazine from the period that included Keith thinking back to the moment he pulled his car up to the studio, hearing Charlie Watts’ drumming inside and subsequently smiling broadly into his rearview mirror.  It’s an indelible image for me.  Keith Richards’ cathartic moment was perhaps a brief insight into what was to come: Maybe not immediately on the album, but certainly by the time the band hit Foxborough. 

At the end of that show, every musician on stage stood arm in arm in front of the crowd to take in the rousing applause.  Then most peeled themselves away to leave the five core band member alone for a moment:  Bill, Mick, Charlie, Keith, Ronnie.  The cheering reached fever pitch for a job well done.

Take a bow, boys.  Take a bow.

-          Pete