(27th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Mastering One's Craft"

Song: Jumpin’ Jack Flash
Album:  Released as a single
Released:  May, 1968

If you do something for a really long time, it’s likely that you are going to get pretty good at it after a spell.  And the best of the best find the niche within the niche, honing their craft to the point where they have carved out something distinct unto themselves.  This occurs in any profession, craft or hobby….you name it:  Software developer and lawyer, basketball player and day trader, blacksmith and sentry (I have no idea why I thought of that last one).  And mastering ones craft is not unique to individuals.  It can also happen with a group, such as a law firm, fishing fleet, scientific expedition, or rowing crew.

In both of these cases, the individual and the group, masters of the art form have cropped up in the music world as well.  Not all at the same pace, though.  Some of the best musicians of our time found their distinct sound very early in their careers:  Richard Thompson, Led Zeppelin, Randy Newman and R.E.M.  all come to mind.  Their first releases gave a very good indication of what was to come.  Others took some time to weave their unique, lasting, indelible sound, including the Beach Boys, David Bowie, the Kinks, U2, the Police and the Grateful Dead.  Of all the great musicians I know of, however, the ones who took the longest to nail down a uniquely untouchable resonance were the Rolling Stones.  They finally accomplished this in 1968, a good 6 years into their formation, with the release of Jumpin’ Jack Flash. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQSGw0hMd_I ).

I think they would agree with me in saying it was worth the investment of time and effort. 

Jumpin’ Jack Flash was a defining song for the Rolling Stones.  First off, it was a major departure from the studio dependent phychedelia that preceded it over a period of 2 years.  Secondly, Keith Richards was stepping to the plate as a true leader, not only as a maturing songwriter, but also in other ways, including a uniquely evolving guitar sound:  Brian Jones was turning into dead weight around this time, and Richards ended up doing virtually all the signature guitar work for Jumpin’ Jack Flash as well as the heavy bass (Wyman shifts over to Hammond Organ).  This was a live sound; something that could be reproduced in front of a crowd with a 5-piece band.  The Stones would end up playing it more than any other song for the remainder of their career (up until now anyways).

 Thirdly, there is the imagery of the lyrics, right up there with any number of Bob Dylan songs such as Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts, Jokerman, and Tweeter and the Monkeyman, including the lines:

I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain,

Along with…

 I was raised by a toothless, bearded hag,
I was schooled with a strap right across my back,

And of course….

 I was drowned, I was washed up and left for dead.
I fell down to my feet and I saw they bled.
I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I was crowned with a spike right thru my head.

Dire for sure, but the Stones had a defying twist in the refrain:

But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, Im jumpin jack flash,
It’s a gas! gas! gas!

In other words, “yes, it may have been tough for many of us, but now we are going to have some fun my friends”.

 Most importantly, the song almost senses the stadium crowds that would attend future Stones shows. Better yet, it may have created them.  Jumpin’ Jack Flash would launch this band into the 70s and beyond.  The Rolling Stones, it seems, had committed themselves to the long haul, not just for themselves, but for their fans.  This was an opposite direction taken from that of the Beatles, who launched into a studio career at about the same time, shunning the stage and crowds for the last 3 years of their existence as a band.  Same could be said for Bob Dylan around this period.   The Stones, however, come across here as the first 60s band to be saying “look out new decade, here we come!”  A weaker song could not have made such a bold statement.  But this was not a weak song.  On the contrary, it was a groundbreaker. 

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This is where I come in, along with so many I grew up with.  The Rolling Stones would start a chain reaction of great musicians committing themselves to the long term, setting the ground rules for the uniquely exciting decade ahead.  In turn, this commitment helped to foster a generational bond among my peers in the 70s that I’m quite certain had never existed before in any generation at such an early stage.  Stadium shows meant a larger audience.  It meant bumping into someone a few days later who was wearing the same concert tee-shirt as you and then talking about the show.  It meant heavy conversations with friends about the music while hanging out in a parking lot, as you hiked the train tracks, or while sitting around a bonfire. 

In the 30s, 40s, 50s, and even 60s, stadiums were where a Dad would take his kid to see a ballgame.  Now it was kids with kids dominating 1) the roads on the drive in, 2) the parking lot, 3) the immediate area (whether urban or woods), and 4) the concert event itself.  Most of the time, this would result in a lasting, sometimes complex, growing experience.  Night School was the name of the game, and if you immersed yourself in it (with caution I might add) the reward could be mind-expanding (and I am not talking drugs per se!).

My most recent exposure to all this was last Sunday evening when I headed into Boston to see Roger Waters perform ‘The Wall’ at Fenway Park with Mac and others.  This was a music-centric crowd, and before the show we seamlessly bounced our way through a myriad of past concert experiences and events from Eric Burdon to Hot Tuna, Lou Reed to Delaney and Bonnie, Dave Davies to Patti Smith.  Conversations like this always prime you for the show ahead.  We were not disappointed.  ‘The Wall’ was spectacular and moving; my faith in the power of live rock music again rekindled.   After years of skepticism in all things large and unconstrained, I think Mr. Waters felt it too.  Perhaps it was something he learned from the Stones.  They figured it out in 1968.  Despite seeing it all in the interim, both good and bad, they have never looked back.  Jack Flash is still Jumping, on stage and in the crowd.  It took 6 years for the Rolling Stones to nail it down.  It’s been 44 grateful years of having found that niche ever since.

 -          Pete

(26th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Good for the Soul"

Song: Sweet Black Angel

Album: Exile on Main Street

Released: May, 1972

In a previous Stepping Stone (# 17), I discussed a major reason why I focused on the Rolling Stones first for this new series of Gem Videos; that being to make a deeper connection with the all-time classic album ‘Exile on Main Street’ before I turned 50.  Mission accomplished.  Another reason that came back to mind this week was this:  I figured with the Stones I could ease myself into the intensity of writing about what a handful of upper-tier musicians have meant to me on a personal level, while at the same time also ease myself into trying to bring to light what I think are some of the great contributions my generation has made to, for lack of a better term, the American ideal (or American Idealism).

Hmmm…. this clearly needs to be explained in some other fashion.

You see, the Stones seemed to be a safe bet to cover first rather than any one of a handful of other bands I’ve never tired of listening to.  Why?  Because those other musicians, Neil Young, the Who, the Beatles, and Bob Dylan included, all have let their guard down in a multitude of ways over the years.  In other words, they have all tapped deeply into their social consciousness, their morality, their humanity, and in turn their souls.  As such, they have tapped into ours as well.  I knew this would all be hard to write about and I acknowledged to myself that I needed time and practice.

The Stones seemed to be the perfect antidote; the perfect “Stepping Stone”.  My thinking back then when I started this series was that, though brilliant, the Rolling Stones have mostly stayed clear of those deeper convictions in their lyrics, at least over the past 40 years.  Seeing as I enjoyed their music as much as any though, focusing on the Stones first would make it easier for me to transition to the more profound stuff later.  I believed as recently as several months ago that this band was primarily in it for the “gas, gas, gas” (and damn good at it I might add), certainly to a greater degree than those other musicians I mentioned.  This would hopefully make the Rolling Stones a quicker study, or at the very least more fun to write about.

And yet there was a hint of something more there, and it was gnawing at me from the beginning. I was just not sure what it was.  To track it I started hypothesizing.  One thought had been this:  Were the principle writers for the band, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, disillusioned after the generational utopian spirit of the late 60s fizzled out?  The Glimmer Twins, after all, were among the crowd clapping and singing in unison when the Beatles performed All You Need is Love to a live, worldwide television audience in 1967 (Original Gem Video # 7).  By 1970, however hard reality kicked in.  A realization seemed to settle over the still-young generation that short term aspirations and long term achievement were two entirely different things.  Did the Stones, along with so many others, simply drop out from trying to achieve those lofty peace-centric ambitions?  As Paul McCartney wrote in Live and Let Die:

“When you were young and your heart was an open book
You used to say live and let live
(You know you did, you know you did you know you did)
But if this ever changing world in which we live in
Makes you give in and cry

Say live and let die”

If this was what the Stones had transitioned into, I’ve always been willing to accept it.  Bob Dylan did it too for a spell.  One needs to reevaluate from time to time.  But what has always confused me until recently about the Stones is that, despite their apparent reluctance to let their guard down, they have always come across as having the same soulful touch in their music as these other musicians I mentioned.  How could this be?  How can a band that has kept a lyrical front for much of a lengthy career sound deep, soulful, and at times, as with any musician worth their weight, even spiritual?  There are many bands that have tried to emulate the Stones attitude, but most of them come across as self-centered.  This is just not the case with this band, at least with me.  So again, how?

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I love it when musicians take risks.  The Rolling Stones satisfied me to some degree with their swagger in the face of adversity.  But the adversity was related to not-so-noble characteristics: “Sex and Drugs and Rock n’ Roll”.  Others took risks in more lofty ways:  John Lennon’s politics (i.e. Working Class Hero, Gimme Some Truth) and Bob Dylan’s quest for justice (i.e. The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll, Hurricane, Masters of War); Pete Townshend revealing inner turmoil (i.e. Empty Glass, However Much I Booze); and Ray Davies looking at the world from a poor person’s viewpoint (i.e. Dead End Street, Get Back in Line). There is risking the loss of a fan base through religious-conviction albums (i.e. George Harrison, Bob Dylan).  There is Roger Waters’ empathy (i.e. Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Breathe).  Even major music transitions can do it for me (Joe Jackson, Pete Townshend, Peter Gabriel).  The list goes on:

Neil Young: Ohio

Bruce Springsteen: The Ghost of Tom Joad

John Mellencamp Jackie Brown

Lou Reed: the entire ‘New York’ album

Pink Floyd: ‘The Wall’ and ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ albums

10,000 Maniacs: What’s the Matter Here

Leonard Cohen: Democracy

Bruce Cockburn: If a Tree Falls

The Pretenders: My City Was Gone

Joni Mitchell: Big Yellow Taxi

*some of these were listed in the original Gem Video # 24 for a similar purpose

What it took for all this music to transpire was soul, which is defined as “the spiritual or immaterial part of a human being” and “a person's moral or emotional nature or sense of identity”.  We all have it.  As Neil Young sings in his lovely song Campaigner, even Richard Nixon had it.  The key is to let your guard down enough to tap into it.  That can be difficult to do.  Many of us keep a hard outer shell over our soft innards all the way from the cradle to the grave.  Part of writing these weekly diatribes is to break down that wall a bit in me (maybe watching ‘The Wall’ at Fenway Park this coming Sunday will help to break it down some more).

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Back to the Stones.  It turns out that they have plenty of soul themselves, but can be masters of disguise in concealing it or distorting it.  They do this in all sorts of ways, including album covers (i.e. a toilet in a graffiti-filled bathroom; a zipper on a pair of jeans); songs (i.e. Some Girls; Star Star) and reputation (drug busts; skull rings; Altamont) as well as hard-to-interpret and hard-to-comprehend lyrics.  Sprinkles of soul are heard on ‘Beggars Banquet’ and ‘Let it Bleed, gaining momentum on ‘Sticky Fingers’. But the album that truly bared all was ‘Exile on Main Street’.  This was the mother lode, and it took me almost 50 years to realize it.  For a moment in time, the first half of 1972 to be precise, the Stones reached for something higher, which opened them up to long-term dividends:  For though they would rarely connect with their social consciousness lyrically again (a few exceptions that come to mind include a handful of songs on ‘Goats Head Soup’ in 1973, Sweet Neo Con in 1997 and Jagger’s unveiling of the song Tea Party on SNL several weeks ago), their music would continue to have scatterings of soul through the 70s, 80s and beyond.  Once you tap into it, you know what it is, and you can feed off it anytime you are ready to put the effort in again. The Rolling Stones can thank ‘Exile’ for that.

This week’s Stepping Stone is the magical Sweet Black Angel ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8M8f9x435I ) a protest song about then (early 70s) jailed activist Angela Davis.  Several lyrics in the song do it for me (along with the music) in terms of soul.  The entire set of lyrics is below, with the “do it for me” lines in bold, including the line ‘got a pin up girl’ (in other words > not your usual pin up).

   -   Pete

Lyrics to Sweet Black Angel

Got a sweet black angel,
got a pin up girl,
got a sweet black angel,
up upon my wall.
Well, she ain't no singer
and she ain't no star,
but she sure talk good,
and she move so fast.
But the gal in danger,
yeah, de gal in chains,
but she keep on pushin',
would ya take her place?
She countin' up de minutes,
she countin' up de days,
She's a sweet black angel, woh,
not a sweet black slave.
Ten little niggers
sittin' on de wall,
her brothers been a fallin',
fallin' one by one.
For a judges murder
in a judges court,
now de judge he gonna judge her
for all dat he's worth.
Well de gal in danger,
de gal in chains,
but she keep on pushin'
would you do the same?
She countin' up de minutes,
she countin' up de days,
she's a sweet black angel,
not a gun toting teacher,
not a Red lovin' school mom,
ain't someone gonna free her,
free de sweet black slave,
free de sweet black slave

(25th in a series of) Stepping Stones "A Competitive Spirit"

Song: Paint it Black
Album:  Aftermath

Released: May, 1966

Transitioning beyond the Beatles was a gradual process for me in the mid-70s.  Yes, I had a variety of other album selections back then; including records by Joe Jackson, the Cars, and Super Tramp.  But these, mostly singular forays, were all secondary to my Beatles-dominated collection.  Don’t get me wrong… I was dabbling back then, primarily with the radio.  But my album collection said it all in terms of my knowledge of music at the time:  I was a bit too top heavy to say the least.

Like many of us who eventually weaned off the bottle…I mean Beatles, I had reached a crossroads when my “Beatlesy” (a George Harrison term, as in “Paul told me my song did not sound Beatlesy enough”) ears became saturated, which was not long after I pretty much tapped out on their discography.  Where would I go at this juncture?  Some in my generation hit the easy-listening stuff:  James Taylor, Carole King, Steely Dan, America.  These were typically the folks who enjoyed the Beatles earlier sound more than the later, heavier albums.  Fine enough.  We all must follow our ears to where the music takes us.

I followed the other path:  The harder stuff, which seeped into the mainstream to stay by the late 60s.  It was simply too good to pass up, and I always felt it was more honest in reflecting our times.  Don McLean would lament this harder sounding, innocence-lost era of ours in his song American Pie.  But I don’t think those earlier times (the Buddy Holly 50s that Don McLean pined for) were really all that innocent either.  Things were just covered up much better, veiled, behind closed doors:  The WWII Generation needed time to heal is my thinking.  No negative spin wanted, thank you!  It would take the likes of Bob Dylan, Buffalo Springfield, Marvin Gaye, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Curtis Mayfield, The Byrds, the Rolling Stones, and, yes, eventually the Beatles (including their solo careers), to break through the log jam to help reveal some of the undertows of hard-reality, inner turmoil, and injustice that loom just beneath the surface of our modern society (I wrote an essay on this 50s/60s dichotomy in college for a class titled ‘History of the Post-War World’).

When it comes to comprehending why I followed this rough-edged path however, I know it was not all simply about clairvoyance and altruism.  In fact, early on, that was but a small piece of the puzzle.  Though sheer enjoyment was the principle driving factor, another big part of what drove me in this direction was my fascination with competition; an allure that can have me acting downright capitalistic at times.  As is often the case though, my competitive interest here was from the perspective of observer rather than participant.  I became fascinated in just who the Beatles chief competition was back when bands of that era began honing their craft.  I wanted to know more about who pushed the envelope from the role of underdog in the early days of British Rock.  I wanted to know more about the musicians who had to play catch up.

From this perspective, it was only a matter of time before I started broadening my horizons.

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Who really likes monopolies?  Even the monopolists must feel this way.  Everyone needs competition.  What would Russell have been without Chamberlain?  Bird without Magic?  Ali without Frazier?  The Yankees without the Red Sox?  The Canadiens without the Bruins?  Coke without Pepsi?  You need something or someone to push you to greater heights.  I’ve always needed this myself.  Bruce pushed my chess game forward way back when.  Dave pushed my table tennis and billiard game (see GMVW # 40).  Mac pushed me with Trivial Pursuit and poker.  Pat Shea did the same with darts.  A handful of scenarios have helped me at work as well.

The Beatles also needed competition, and it came initially in the form of the Rolling Stones.  When you compare the 60s Rolling Stones period (the Brian Jones years) to the Beatles, there really is no comparison.  The Beatles were consistently excellent from ‘Please Please Me’ all the way through ‘Abbey Road’.  The Stones in the early days were very sporadic, sometimes releasing songs the likes of which the Beatles would have left on the cutting room floor the minute they walked in the studio.  But if you dig a bit under the hood, you can see that the Stones had the right pieces in those formative days, which played out very nicely on occasion in the form of hit singles.  By sticking it out, this would eventually pay off in an even bigger way.

Breaking things down the Stones music actually matches up rather well against the Beatles circa ’63 – ‘67.  Yes, the Beatles mastered the craft of penning good songs long before the Rolling Stones.  But the Stones take the prize in other aspects.  Here’s a rundown:

Multi instrumentalist: Brian tops Paul

Drums: Charlie tops Ringo

Bass: Bill tops Paul (at least in the early days when Wyman was more involved in the creative process)
Guitar:  Really can’t compare.  George was a lead guitarist, and the Stones didn’t get one of those until Mick Taylor in ’69.  All guitarists in both bands (Lennon, Harrison, Richards, Jones) were solid, though Jones lost interest in the instrument sometime around 1966, leaving Richards to fend for himself while Jones himself explored other instruments.

Singer: Also can’t compare.  Mick, John and Paul are all excellent singers, but the Beatles were a harmony band, and the Stones were…. something else.
Note: The Who would obliterate any instrument match-up later, coming near or on top the list in virtually every category.

Things were ramping up in 1966 when the Beatles released ‘Rubber Soul’ and the Beach Boys released ‘Pet Sounds’. Though the Rolling Stones were still primarily a singles band, Paint it Black ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1zBG2TEjn4&feature=related ), released in May 1966, was the earliest feel that the Stones could compete, and on occasion, find the Beatles chasing them.  Paint it Black is heavy, and on this front the Stones beat the Beatles to the punch.  I define heavy as a combination of powerful music and lyrics.  Heavy songs started popping up slowly in the mid-60s and would explode by ’68.  As far as I can discern, it started with the Animals cover of House of the Rising Sun in 1964, followed by Bob Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone in 1965.  And the Stones were next in line with Paint it Black, a serious sounding song about a man attending his lover’s funeral.  ‘Heavy’ would snowball from this point on, ultimately mastered by the likes of The Who, Jim Hendrix, Crème, Neil Young, Jefferson Airplane…. and the Beatles.

This week’s Stepping Stone has much to say besides the lyrics.  Charlie Watts drumming is brilliant (I am starting to enjoy his drums more than ever, listening so much to the Stones over the past months).  Bill Wyman sounds very involved in the studio effects.  His bass playing is some of his best, particularly that aforementioned ‘vrooming’ sound at the end of the song (discussed briefly in Stepping Stone # 3).  Keith Richards strums along very admirably, particularly during several of the instrumental breaks.  Mick Jagger is solid as usual.  And of course, Brian Jones sitar playing just about steals the show.  These were the days when this band didn’t really have a leader.  Everyone contributed equally, with perhaps only Watts not interested in taking control of the situation.  Later, Richards and Jagger would assume dominance, winning the internal competition, but this would have its ramifications, much like the effects that played out in Pink Floyd when Roger Waters took the helm.  I hope to discuss more of that later.  For now, though, I’d rather just enjoy the moment of hearing a 5-piece ensemble working on an even keel.

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All this talk of competition has me itching for a win of some kind.  Hmmm, I hear Mom is the master of on-line scrabble.  I’ll have to challenge her.  See if she’s game.

-          Pete

(24th in a series of) Stepping Stones "Reserving the Rights to Diss Disco"

Song: Emotional Rescue
Album: Emotional Rescue

Released: June, 1980

“Get up, get out, into something new”…. so goes the opening salvo of lyrics to Dances (Pt. 1), the aptly named first song on the Rolling Stones 1980 album ‘Emotional Rescue’.  The line itself was apropos of the then-freshly minted decade as well as this new dance-sounding music for the Stones.  But these lyrics were also fitting in defining the band itself, seeing as the Stones were once again morphing.  Change is something the Rolling Stones have never had a problem with.  They initially showed this capacity in a serious way with ‘Her Satanic Majesties Request’ in their 5^th year as an ensemble, and though that venture was not all that commercially or, for that matter artistically successful, it did not inhibit them as they have continued to dabble with a vast variety of musical styles and genres ever since.

Many bands fall into the trap of trying to recapture some long-gone musical feeling from their more successful days.  The Rolling Stones realized pretty early on that this was virtually impossible to do, and so avoided it.  In fact, their attitude appears to have always been to ‘get up and out’ from that old feeling’s shadow as quickly as possible.  Part of this motivation seems driven by the need to simply stay relevant by following the head (i.e. $$) and not the heart, and critics have consistently pointed this out about the Stones.  Fine enough, but not many bands can morph like the Stones and thereby maintain their relevancy, which is an achievement in and of itself and is a big reason why these characters are so unique.  And while the Stones are viewed more as trend followers than trend blazers, they have typically mastered those trends, showing how it’s done, often better than those who initiated the trends in the first place.

With all this in mind, it should have come as no surprise to fans when for a brief ‘Emotional Rescue’ period the Rolling Stones flirted with disco.

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Ahh, disco.  Ahh, the memories.  For a 70s rock ‘n’ roll kid like me, the advent of it in the mid-70s was an anathema.  Looking back, I realize now that disco was seen at the time as an affront to the rock radio stations I frequently listened to back then, and the DJs on these stations verbally lashed back whenever they could, which was often.  This was especially true of my favorite radio station, 104.1 WBCN.  And I was caught up in it all, on the battle lines and in the trenches.

Disco was the first wave of new music to seriously confront Rock after the latter ruled North America and Europe for a good 10 years.  More waves were soon to come in the form of rap and hip-hop.  But by the time those waves swept in, Rock was already wounded.  Its first true competition of strobe lights and mirror balls would ultimately go down in a disco inferno (“goodbye sister disco”), but not before taking a few casualties.  Rock would stagger on, maintaining a strong face to this day, but now you more often than not have to dig a bit to find its modern day movers and shakers, whether on the Web, the music store back bins, or side-alley night clubs.

Though I would learn to accept change more readily after leaving home for campus life the very year ‘Emotional Rescue’ was released, my stance on disco would remain unflinching well into the 80s and still lingers off and on to this day.  Case in point:  I recall playing DJ myself several times at garage parties at Carleton University in Ottawa, Canada back in ’82 and ‘83.  When doing this, I would begrudgingly share the DJ role with another guy on my floor who insisted on playing newer dance music to ‘draw in the ladies’.  I considered his reasoning shallow at best, and I told him this in so many words.  My take, though I could not put my finger on defining it at the time: The hipsters who enjoyed good music, ladies included, would help to set a unique, lasting, and memorable mood.  The alternative would just be another average to forgettable evening.  And when I took control of the turntable over an extended period of time, the gathering felt more like it meant something, though I’ll admit the crowd was fewer in numbers.  But hey, these were fellow diehards!  I’ll take quality over quantity any day.

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Ok, so I’ve been listening to the Rolling Stones now for 24 straight weeks.  At the end of last week, I figured I needed some type of break; maybe take a little time off, listen to something else for a change.  It turned out the break was more of the Rolling Stones as ‘Emotional Rescue’ was the perfect antidote.  My shoulders relaxed a bit this week, maybe even started to groove some:  Quite a contrast from the pile-driving feel of many of the previous Stepping Stones.  Message to self:  Cancel that appointment for a chiropractic adjustment.

I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the disco-centric, middle-of-the-pack album ‘Emotional Rescue’, but it took me years to admit it.  This was particularly true for the title track, this week’s Stepping Stone ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzTbTzUqJtM ), which is about as disco of a sounding song as you are going get for a ‘Gem Video’.  Mick Jagger sings in falsetto for most of this song, and he does it well.  It’s Ronnie Wood, and not Bill Wyman, who lays out the bass lines.  Perhaps Wyman was drawing some line in the sand.  But the bass works very well in this song, as does Charlie Watts drumming.  Disco has always been driven by the bass and drums.  The fact that Charlie made yet another adjustment to his drumming style, and did it in such a seamless way, is pretty fascinating.

The rest of the album works for me as well.  There’s the back and forth between lads and lasses at the tail end of Where the Boys Go (this song is the answer to the trivia question I asked in the Gimme Shelter Stepping Stone several weeks ago, though it is likely not the only answer).  There’s the last set of verses on Send It to Me (starting at “She won’t have to watch her step, she won’t have to relocate, I guarantee her personal security”).  I’ve already covered She’s So Cold (Stepping Stone # 8).  I even like Indian Girl, which sounds a bit like Dylan’s Romance in Durango.

And I love the opening banter between Mick and Keith on Dances (Pt. 1):

Mick: “Hey, what am I doing standing here on the corner of West 8th Street and 6th Avenue and...”

Keith: “Ah, skip it.”

Mick: “Nothing.  Keith!  Watcha, watcha doing?”

Keith: (whistle)

Mick: “Oh, I think the time has come to get out, get out”

It’s almost like their trying to ignore each other, but can’t.  Things were starting to get a little tense between The Boys around this time.

Then there’s that strange sound that makes its way into Dances (Pt. 1) at the 2:33 mark of the attached url ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_g2jDc5jrIc ).  It repeats over several more stanzas.  I can’t make out what it is, but boy does it work.  I keep picturing a ‘what if’ scenario:  The Stones being asked to perform this song on the Muppets, with a few of the host puppets pulling off the wacky sound effect.  Too bad it never happened.  I elucidate on Dances (Pt. 1) here because I don’t think it will make the cut for a Stepping Stone.  Let’s just call it Stepping Stone 24B, as it works very well as a partner to Emotional Rescue: Both songs are funky in beat but deep in lyrics (Emotional Rescue about a guy pining for the woman of another man and Dances Pt 1 about taking a leap of faith into the great unknown).  Here’s a great live version of the latter:  ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A2_bX5lJ2Sg ).

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My stance on disco and all it represents has always been, as mentioned earlier, a remnant of my younger days when change was a lot harder to accept than it is now.  But going through major changes myself at the time of the release of ‘Emotional Rescue’ had me catching the album at the right time.  Change soon became the norm rather than the exception for me, and I’ve come to gain tremendous respect for those who make it their modus operandi to accept it, and even push for it.  In turn, I try to strive for it in myself.

I have been accused of being stuck on ‘relics of the past’ when it comes to my musical interests.  Though I admit to not being as current with the latest musical trends as some, I believe I am much better than most.  The strange thing about this is that the ‘old timers’ are the ones that actually keep me up-to-date when the best of them release new albums.  These are the bands and musicians that figure out ways to accept changes and modify their sound.  It’s really the only way to stay viable.  It’s why the Rolling Stones went disco for however brief a time.

But despite all this enlightenment, I reserve the right to pan disco whenever the urge strikes me:  There are simply a handful of core beliefs from my youth that I forever must honor.

   -  Pete

(23rd in a series of) Stepping Stones "Spotlight on Ian Stewart: Big Brother"

Song: Silver Train
Album: Goats Head Soup

Released: August, 1973

Spotlight on: Ian Stewart

One thing I’ll really never know is what it’s like to be a younger sibling.  No complaints, just reality:  Hey, someone has to be born first.  Back in my adolescent days, this ignorance was compounded by the fact that I was surrounded mostly by friends and family who, in one way or another, looked up to older siblings.  And some of them looked way up.  Dad grew up with 4 sisters, sharing the youngest role with one of them (his twin, Aunt Ann).  Four of my closest friends were also the youngest (Phil, Pete, Bruce, Dave). Mom was 10 of 12.  All my brothers and sisters were, well… younger than me.  Most everyone else was tucked somewhere in the middle (John, Mac, Cousin Jack).  Even the ladies in my life at the time were lower in their family’s age pecking order. The only friend I shared oldest affiliation with was Jeff D (looking back, there were definitely similarities in how we approached this role).

In most all these cases the older siblings had a strong effect on these people in my life.  Bruce, in his younger days, most definitely aspired to be like his oldest brother Alex, and was very much influenced by his older sisters as well.  Pete had tremendous respect for big brother Paul.  Jack felt the same toward his brother, my older Cousin, Bill.  Mom was influenced by all her older siblings in one way or another.  I loved witnessing all this, and I often shared the admiration that these friends and family members had in their older siblings.  I suppose I was experiencing the concept vicariously.

Older siblings clearly have a different effect on us than our parents.  The parental units can be the coolest folks on the planet, but when you come down to it, they are from a different generation.  The cultural disconnect is usually too vast to make the type of bond you can make with someone a few years older.  This is good for both sides of that coin.  What parent really wants to have their kids emulate their every interest?  That would be a bit freakish, yes?  You want them to find their own interests.  An older sibling however?  Now you’re talking.  At least that’s been my observation.

Although I did not have the younger sibling experience, I did eventually get to experience something very similar, playing the ‘apprentice’ role in all sorts of situations later in life.  Most of these were work related, but there were a few other situations as well.  One memory that comes to mind is Bob and I hooking up for a few days with an experienced world traveler while touring through Spain.  There was also the time Bruce and I headed into Boston as young teenagers on the train to see a Red Sox game with his older sister who we met up with at her apartment in the city and who appeared to know Beantown better than Samuel Adams.  There was cousin Andrea’s wedding when I was just 15.  There was John Miller in North Adams, who introduced me to hot peppers and gut wrenching belly laughs.  There was cousin Tom Gilligan and his knowledge of history.

The Rolling Stones had their apprenticeship too, and for many years subsequent they would be guided and conducted by their behind-the-scenes elder statesman, Ian Stewart.

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If there is one scene that stands out for me in the movie ‘The Sting’ it’s when Johnny Hooker (Robert Redford) and Henry Gondorff (Paul Newman) meet:  The young up and comer trying to get the old veteran back into the con game.  It’s a very well-acted scene.  When finally convinced to move ahead with ‘The Sting’, Gondorff proceeds to give Hooker the apprenticeship of a lifetime.  After reading Keith Richards’ book ‘Life’ this is how I picture his and Mick Jagger’s meeting with Ian Stewart:  Big warehouse-like room, Stu sitting at a piano in a dark corner.  “So, what is it you’ve come here to learn, boys?”

Ian Stewart never seemed to want the limelight that eventually came with fame and was content to be left off the publicly-recognized Rolling Stones lineup, never once appearing on any of their album covers.  But he was so integral to the Stones sound and how it matured over time.  He may have simply realized that he did not have the image that record companies looked for to sell a band.  He was a few years older than everyone else.  The big brother:  In all likelihood unwilling and probably unable to go fab, mod, psychedelic, hippie, or wherever the trend was heading at any given time.  The Jay-Leno like jaw certainly did not help.  It appears he just wanted to guide the music from the side of the stage, his piano playing remaining in that dark corner.  The band was very lucky to have him.  I cannot think of any other musician or band that had such an apprenticeship, such a mentor, such a Gondorff.

Stu’s style stands out in this week’s Stepping Stone, Silver Train ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5ViK-7z8Ws ). The song has a pre-rock sound to it; boogie like.  In fact, the song sounds like it could have been used in the soundtrack for ‘The Sting’.  It’s a period piece of music.  The piano playing paces the song.

As for the album it resides on, Silver Train sticks out like a healed thumb on a body of bruises.  ‘Goats Head Soup’ is the Stones ‘Who by Numbers’:  Introspective, sad, and at times dark.  Three excellent songs on side one, 100 Years Ago, Coming Down Again and Angie, sound almost remorseful:  An unheard-of sentiment for the swaggering Stones. Despite the deceiving title, Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker) is angry.  Dancing with Mr. D is the darkest song (the ‘D’ standing for death).  Silver Train brightens things up just a bit (think Squeeze Box on ‘Who by Numbers’).  It’s a solid track on an album full of them.  All in all, part of me wishes I started listening to the Stones with this album.  Not sure why exactly.  Just seems like a good place to begin.

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Of all my ‘apprenticeships’, some of the most valuable were the numerous situations where I received insightful tips on great music, the most memorable of which were while listening.  Those tips were often from that slightly older crowd, the big brothers and sisters of my friends in my younger days, as well as older friends and acquaintances later in life.  Being a child of the 70s, this meant that I was typically getting advice on some of the best music of our times:  Songs written by musicians of the late 60s and early 70s.  A handful of these musicians have sustained their creativity, even to this day.  In some ways I guess I viewed these slightly older musicians as my big brothers and sisters.  Perhaps that’s why I’ve delved into the music a bit deeper than most.

The tips continue to roll in, and I remain amazed at the fact that there is always something new to learn; some new Stone to flip over.  Like fellow oldest sibling, Jeff D once said “music can be, and is the common tie that bonds us, separates us, and spans our emotions, and unites us with the common bond of humanity, whether we are near or far”.  This was certainly the case with Ian Stewart and the Stones. 

Keep it up everybody.  I’ll continue to try to do my part.

   -   Pete

(22nd in a series of) Stepping Stones "Gaining New Perspectives"

Song: Gimme Shelter
Album: Let it Bleed

Released:  April, 1969

The world has its fair share of opinionated, stubborn, set-in-their-ways types.  And although these traits can be seen as a sign of commitment and strength (nobody wants to be viewed as ‘wishy-washy’), they can also, on occasion, be major obstacles to the truth.  So, a little wiggle room for evolving and new perspectives is important.  Keep that curmudgeon at bay, at least until the age of 80.  At that point, I suppose you’ve earned the right to dig in your heels on most any subject.

Sorry, I kicked into my role as Dad there.  That’s proven difficult to overcome in writing this week’s Stepping Stone entry, because this past Memorial Day weekend was a four-day father/daughter adventure; a trek to Maine and beyond to explore the campuses of a handful of universities.  In the process, Charlotte and I got a taste, however briefly, of that next phase in both of our lives.  For Charlotte, it was obviously an opportunity to get a peek into life away from home.  For me, the early stages of letting go.  In each case, I believe it was a needed step since the alternative, abrupt change, is much harder to deal with.

But back to that opening paragraph.

Setting aside the fatherly advice, there are numerous reasons this week for starting with those comments.  Some of these reasons were already clear to me as Charlotte and I headed Northeast this past Friday morning, but others did not come into focus until our travels unfolded. Indeed, this past weekend was all about gaining new perspectives on a whole variety of things.

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Memorial Day is most importantly a time to reflect on lost loved ones, especially those who served in the military during wartime.  With several uncles who did just that and who are now buried in military cemeteries, along with my maternal grandfather who also served in wartime, and a plethora of reading and studies over time on the major battles this country has been involved in this past century, I did a fair share of reflecting this weekend.

In the past three decades or so, Memorial Day weekend has also become known, for those in my generation and beyond, as a “top” list weekend on FM radio.  Top 500, 1000 (or whatever) songs of all time, often played from that Friday afternoon to a countdown-to-number-one crescendo late into Monday evening.  I’m rarely in agreement with the top-of-the-list choices.  Who is?  I’ve stated before that choosing a ‘best’ list of rock songs is an impossible task.  I remember one year back in the mid 80s when WBCN put David Bowie’s Young Americans at the top of the list.  Young Americans?  A great song, yes, but number one all time? The funny thing was that as the countdown hit the top 10, I predicted it, along with most of the other songs at the top of the list.  I was listening to WBCN a lot that year, and so was familiar with their bias at that time.

The good thing about these ‘top’ lists is that, most songs are very familiar, and so over a lifetime, you can accumulate all sorts of insights about them; some good, some not so.  This can put you in a position to educate the younger crowd.  The songs on these lists are so common, even the current up-and-coming generation recognize many.  Yet there is much room for broadening their perspective.  And so as one of the several stations we listened to made way through its countdown while Charlotte and I drove across Maine, I took it upon myself to elucidate a bit when the opportunity presented itself.  There was King of Pain (“about clinical depression”…“the best Police song”); Glory Days (“the endurance of the E-Street Band is captured in the closing jam session”); Sweet Home Alabama (“the female backing vocals make this song”…”part of the lyrics are a reaction to Neil Young’s Southern Man”) Rockin’ in the Free World (“an anti-Bush 1 era anthem”); and Another Brick in the Wall (hmmm, ok, let’s talk a bit about ‘The Wall’) along with many others.  For her part, Charlotte continued to nail down the decade of any song that played, an uncanny ability of hers (More than a Feeling “that’s a 70s song” Hungry Like the Wolf “that’s a 80s thing”).

A never-fail song in any FM ‘top’ list is Gimme Shelter, this week’s Stepping Stone ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJDnJ0vXUgw ).  This is where my own broadening perspective kicked in this week.  I’ve always appreciated this song, but honing in on it gave me a new depth of appreciation for this all-time classic.  It may have had something to do with Memorial Day and my own interest in past events, as that sense of war and history factored big time while I listened.  And this is one heavy Vietnam War-centric song, focusing on the victims of it, empathetic with their fear, their desperation, and their pain.  One of my biggest insights this week:  Music becomes history like anything else eventually, and my fascination in both has actually been a complimentary process over the years; the one feeding the other.  Charlotte’s interest in history reaffirmed this.

Gimme Shelter hits you in waves and each of those waves raises the ante: The eerie guitar work, the brilliant harmonica playing, the lyrics.  And then there is the singing of Merry Clayton, vulnerable, not over confident.  Her voice actually cracks on several occasions, but sounds extremely powerful, nonetheless.  It all works. The Stones needed this hired gun to compliment Mick Jagger's vocals on Gimme Shelter.  Jagger just can’t emit these emotions in his singing.  He’s the opposite of Paul Simon in this respect.  The only risk for the Stones is that Clayton comes very close to stealing the show. The only other times I can think of when a non-Stone almost stole the show are Nicky Hopkins piano playing on She’s a Rainbow and The London Symphony Orchestra on You Can’t Always Get What You Want.  ** By the way, can anyone name another Stones song that includes female vocals? **

Gimme Shelter is so strong in conveying a sense of desperation, dread and pain, that much of the rest of the album ‘Let It Bleed’ tackles coping mechanisms.  Four songs in particular have the feel of retreating somewhere, anywhere, be it loving (the album's title track), reasoning (You Can’t Always Get What you Want), rebelling (Monkey Man) or snapping (Midnight Rambler), making this perhaps the only Rolling Stones album that delved into the world of the conceptual.  Whether intentional or not, I’m not sure it matters.

Although I find it impossible to put together a ‘top’ list of my own, there are a few ‘chill down your spine’ songs out there, though you need to be in the mood for them to take that effect.  The ones that come to mind:  Hey Jude (McCartney written, Lennon inspired), Good Vibrations, Holiday, What’s the Frequency Kenneth, Won’t Get Fooled Again, Kashmir and Not Dark Yet. In all these cases, the musicians somehow transcended their own limitations for at least a moment to preserve a magnificent snapshot in time.

Gimme Shelter is right in there with that short list.

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Along with the music and the reality settling in of a not-to-distant future for Charlotte, there was much more this weekend that broadened our perspectives.  Mt. Katahdin was a truly physical one, viewing it from many different angles as we trekked through Baxter State Park for as many vantage points as possible:  Knife’s Edge, Baxter Peak, the Owl, the Tablelands, the snow.  It was all there in clear blue skies.  There was Maine in general, having thought I’d seen a vast majority of it, but then discovering Mount Blue State Park near U Maine Farmington, including Tumbledown, Webb Lake and Mount Blue: Just spectacular. There was Fredericton New Brunswick, a capital we usually drove straight through with nary a thought as we made past treks to Prince Edward Island, Nova Scotia and Newfoundland.  But in broadening our horizons this weekend we discovered a wonderful city with an incredible university (UNB) at its core.

Keep those windows to new perspectives alive.  You never know when it’s that time to be a student again.

   - Pete

(21st in a series of) Stepping Stones "Something for Everyone"

Song: Shattered
Album: Some Girls
Released: June, 1978

I recently credited Fred with introducing the old homestead on Park Road to a Rolling Stones record, that being ‘Hot Rocks’ sometime in the mid-70s (see Stepping Stone # 11).  The first Stones studio albums to make it into the home, however, were purchased separately by Joe and I not long after.  Mine was ‘Sticky Fingers’, which was about seven years old at the time.  Joe’s was ‘Some Girls’, which was hot off the presses.

Where Fred and I purchased our music primarily as vinyl albums, Joe’s purchases were strictly cassette tapes.  This made things a bit more flexible for Joe.  First off, he could easily transition a good music moment from his bedroom to his car.  Secondly, Joe’s cassette player was portable, so he could bring it almost anywhere and tape most anything, unlike our turntables, which were about as portable as our beds.  Third and most important, Joe kept his collection in a cassette carrier case, which made it easy for him (and the rest of us) to thumb through an impressively diverse collection.

There were drawbacks to this flexibility, however.  First, there was a slight compromise in sound, since there was not as much range of quality with a cassette sound system as there was with a turntable sound system.  Secondly, cassettes did not usually come with all the perks of a vinyl album, such as picture sleeves, booklets, and lyrics (though they were cheaper).  The most unfortunate drawback, though, was one that none of us could really anticipate in our relatively insular world:  That being the ease of theft.  And after amassing that impressive collection over a period of years, Joe would witness it all disappear just like that; stolen away from him in the blink of an eye.

Despite that last sad twist of bad vibes, I know for the most part that Joe looks back on his collection in a positive light, choosing to remember the inspirational qualities of having it for a very impressionable period in his life.  It’s a testament to Joe’s general outlook on anything and everything.  As for me, my primary memory of that cassette carrier case remains ‘Some Girls’, an amazing assembly of songs that launched an unlikely and uncharted third wind for the Rolling Stones and eventually gave me new insights into the power of perseverance.

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‘Some Girls’ was when the Stones really began defying the odds, extending their legacy beyond what anyone would consider normal shelf life for any band.  The album had high school and college strength in 1978-79.  What I mean by this is that the songs off of ‘Some Girls’ were all over the airways, and were a dominating, familiar sound on jukeboxes, in parking lots and at parties.  The Stones were closing in on 2 decades as a band at the time of ‘Some Girls’ release and were suddenly ruling the roost of a generation quite a bit younger than them.  How many 18 year old bands can say that?  Most high school ‘popular’ music is based on trends:  The latest fad comes, the latest fad goes.  It’s all recorded for posterity on trendy radio stations like KISS 108 FM: Marketing geniuses tapping into the teen consciousness, making a new up-and-comer famous and wealthy before disposing of them like yesterday’s papers and moving on to the next short-term hit maker.  For a few years the Stones would breach this world, connecting the music played at a prom with the music played at a backwoods keg party, the disco with the hip rock club, the beach party with the underground, and the jock with the burnout.

This was because ‘Some Girls’ had something for everyone: There was disco (Miss You), there was punk (When the Whip Comes Down), there was a ballad (Beast of Burden), there was country (Far Away Eyes), there was hard rock (Respectable and Lies) and there was raunchy blues (the title track).  There was also one of my all-time favorite cover songs (Just My Imagination) and an earlier Stepping Stone (# 6: Before They Make Me Run).  Finally, there was something completely different; not quite definable, but perhaps an early precursor to rap.  That song would be this weeks’ Stepping Stone, the distinctly fascinating Shattered (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1BjQYQ5p2Ko).

Shattered describes the look and feel of New York City during a major renaissance in its history (again, see Stepping Stone # 6).  There’s an underbelly to the renaissance, however, and the Stones capture some of that here (“This towns full of money grabbers, go ahead bite the Big Apple, don’t mind the maggots”).  The drumming and guitar work in the bridge are top notch, but its Mick Jagger’s singing that gives this song a place in the pantheon of great Stones songs.  Other than Heaven off of ‘Tattoo You’, I can’t think of another song where Jagger’s singing is so unique.  Yet where Heaven is aided substantially by production, this is something else entirely.  Shattered captures a distinct mood in the vocals, an uninhibited, confident singing that showcases these superlatives in a big way.  Sir Mick’s vocalizations in the second stanza bear this out:

Friends are so alarming

My lovers never charming

Life’s just a cocktail party on the street

Big Apple

People dressed in plastic bags

Directing traffic

Some kind of fashion

Shattered

I believe it took way more than luck or even skill for the Rolling Stones to pull off a feat like ‘Some Girls’ at that stage in their career.  It took perseverance; a collective trust in a formula that worked. This is the five core Stones with very little support to speak of, and with a stripped down production.  The creative juices were once more at a fever pitch.  Again, I am most impressed with Mick Jagger here, as it’s not just his singing on Shattered, but his contributions on the entire album that inspires; and I’m not just talking about his performance and songwriting skills, but also his apparent commitment to the band.  Jagger comes across on ‘Some Girls’ as having rediscovered the fountain of youth, which could have been his ticket out of the Stones seeing as he seems to have been carrying much of the load in the late 70s.  Yet rather than abandon his mates, which may very well have been a tempting option to him considering the condition of Keith Richards at the time, he immerses himself in their sound and makes it all work as good as it ever had before.

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Perseverance was not unique to the Stones in 1978. Joe was in the early stages of showing this trait as well.  Often seen at his desk hovering over his text books for hours on end, putting extra time into his studies; glasses on, tongue hanging out a la Michael Jordan while making a drive to the basket.  Vice President of Sales, Portfolio Advisory Services at Fidelity would be the long-term reward for this effort, though Joe’s resume could see even loftier position descriptions before it’s all said and done.

Yet I can’t help wondering what would have happened if that cassette case was never stolen.  Would Joe have added to it at an ever expanding pace?  Perhaps with a few more hundred listens to ‘Some Girls’, Joe’s mind would have wandered in other directions.  Maybe he’d be in the front office in my building at the U.S. Geological Survey, writing his 3^rd cutting edge scientific report on the significant human effects on climate change; un-tucked flannel shirt, sporting a beard (inside joke). Ok, I know what all you money makers out there are thinking: Thank goodness that cassette case was stolen. Though I can’t agree, I don’t really believe that unfortunate event set Joe’s future path:  Just a fun “what if” scenario.  Most friends and family I know have followed a professional path of passion.  Joe is most certainly in that bracket, stolen cassette case or not.

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Mick Jagger, all 68 years of him, revealed a recapturing of youthful confidence yet again this past weekend on Saturday Night Live, performing high-intensity versions of several of the Rolling Stones greatest songs.  The set list included The Last Time with Arcade Fire; 19^th Nervous Breakdown and It’s Only Rock n’ Roll with the Foo Fighters; and a touching all-ensemble performance of She’s a Rainbow and Ruby Tuesday in tribute to Kristen Wiig’s departure from the SNL as the evenings events came to a close.  However, it was Jagger’s’ performance of a new song with Jeff Beck, ‘Tea Party’, a wonderfully politically charged blues ditty, that just may have stolen the show.  I spoke a bit too soon two weeks ago about Mr. Beck; he did find a supporting cast for his finesse after all.

As for the Rolling Stones’ perseverance, this remains a factor, now being their 50^th anniversary.  Yet, is it really all over now?  Maybe not.  Perhaps fate is aligned.  After all, the last Triple Crown winner, Affirmed, pulled that feat off in 1978.  Winning the Triple Crown is the very definition of defying the odds.  Affirmed’s accomplishment coincides with the year the Stones began defying the odds themselves with ‘Some Girls’.  Are they poised yet again for one final great album?  One thought comes to mind:

I’ll Have Another”

*Post mortem: "I'll Have Another" was injured before having the opportunity to win the 3rd leg of the Triple Crown

   -  Pete