(42nd in a series of) Stepping Stones: "The Best Use for a Milk Crate"

Song: No Expectations

Album: Beggars Banquet

Released: December, 1968

After six albums it could be stated that for all intents and purposes the Rolling Stones remained a singles band.  Other groups, led by the Beatles, had moved on over the previous 2 years, producing high-quality and conceptual music in album-centric context.  The Stones were taking all this in and giving it a go themselves over the intervening time, but they were still a roller-coaster experience:  Their highs could be tremendously high but their lows could be awfully low as well.  Consistency was not yet in the cards, and if things had remained this way, the Stones place in history would have been relegated to 2^nd tier status along with numerous other bands.

The Fab Four had one major advantage over the Rolling Stones, however:  A quality producer.  George Martin was as good as it gets and has often been described as a 5^th member of the Beatles seeing as his input in the studio was clearly a critical element in their success.  The playing field was finally leveled in 1968 when the Stones brought Jimmy Miller on board.  ‘Beggars Banquet’ was Miller’s first foray with the band and the effect was immediate:  This was solid album through and through, which by this time was extremely important for the Stones, because not only were other musicians moving on….

…..so were the fans.

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Throughout this writing process, I keep coming back to an important theme: The album-centric psyche of my generation (those of us who came of age in the 60s and 70s).  This album orientation is unique to us.  The generations prior and the generations since are conditioned much more toward the single or more specifically the hit.  Today’s generation in fact can’t help themselves:  In the digital-download world everything has been condensed to the hit.  It’s the extreme opposite of my experience.  Our generation had some work to do when an album was released.  We had to be able to define a musician’s quality of output not so much in terms of parts, as in wholes.

So what is album-oriented music, and in what ways did it effect my generation?   To help answer these questions, I went down cellar and pulled out three milk crates of old LPs.  I felt I needed to do a bit of reconnecting, not only to the music, but to all the other components.  I needed to look at old album covers, hold old records, read old lyrics, and review old liner notes.  Would this bring me back to Franklin, North Adams, Ottawa and Waltham?  Would this bring me back to the core of my generation’s musical sensibilities?

I was able to scan through everything, but I’ll hone in on a handful of the revisits here:

The Beatles ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’:  The first thing that comes to mind related to this album is my late-bloomer persona.  How many kids of my generation reached the age of thirteen before they were introduced to album-oriented rock…by their non-rocker parents?  I see this as a good thing though.  It means I had a great upbringing listening to old-timey stuff.  That innocence of youth just stuck with me a bit longer than most.  As for the album, I recall loving the green apple label on the record.  I also recall sensing that this was an interesting group of guys.  Lennon appeared intellectual; Harrison mysterious.  I remember asking Dad about the brass instrument in Lennon’s hand.  He said it was the French horn, one of the most difficult instruments to learn how to play.  ‘Sgt. Pepper’ flowed from song to song:  I can’t imagine these songs in any other order.  My favorite way-back-when was She’s Leaving Home.  I found it fascinating that a band could think of such a topic to write about.  It also opened my eyes to the fact that not every kid had it as good as me. 

Pete Townshend ‘Empty Glass’:  Wow, talk about brutal honesty.  Pete Townshend was in the midst of self-destruction in 1980 and somehow was able to express it creatively.  How?  Because underlying anything Townshend does is spirituality and this was even the case in his darkest of days.  The title track is my favorite song on the album; a true tearjerker about feeling empty inside.  I Am An Animal is also huge, as is Jules and Jim.  There are only two musicians primarily enjoyed by me as members of famous bands who I also appreciate immensely as solo artists.  One of them is John Lennon, and the other is this man.  ‘Empty Glass’ alone should one day get Townshend into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist.

The Kinks ‘Soap Opera’: This is such a fun concept album:  The story of a self-described “Starmaker”, who decides to switch roles with an ordinary person (“Norman”) to make music from that ‘dull’ perspective. The new Norman then proceeds to get the Rush Hour Blues, work Nine to Five, feel like a Face in the Crowd, and have to deal with his ordinary wife’s fascination for Ducks on the Wall (“My babies got the most deplorable taste, and her biggest mistake is hanging over the fireplace”).  In the middle of it all, he deals with this new mundane existence in a not-so-unique way in the song When Work is Over where “he likes to hit the bar, go down the boozer, and have another jar”, followed by cheating on his wife (Holiday Romance) and then reconciling with her (You Make It All Worthwhile).  All the songs have a sing-along quality, and Jeff B and I made sure on several occasions not to pass up on that opportunity.

Joe Jackson ‘Look Sharp’:  A very early purchase, ‘Look Sharp’ gave me the realization that a punk’s point of view is universal.  Joe Jackson was thin, short, wiry, and ready to take on anyone who stood in his way.  “What are you looking at” seemed to scream out at you from every song.  The attitude also came across in Jackson’s image on the back cover. One of my favorite all-time songs is One More Time, but the entire album flows like any good album should.  ‘Look Sharp’ introduced the world to Joe Jackson: The bass playing of Graham Maby alone was worth the price of admission. 

Lou Reed ‘New York’:  I felt pretty cool catching on to this LP at the time of its release in 1989.  I knew it was a game changer, and the album-centric tour that followed proved my instincts correct:  Lou Reed was taking it all very seriously too.  If you want a reality slap on how those folks on the other side of the tracks live, listen to this album.  There’s no relief… anywhere.  But it is an amazingly written and produced album.  Busload of Faith; Dirty Blvd (Gem Music Video # 54) and Last Great American Whale are just the tip of the iceberg. 

The Beatles ‘Abbey Road’: Such an iconic cover: The Beatles at the end of their own long and winding road, walking across a road.  And there were many crazy folks like me interpreting it all.  Why were the Beatles trying to depict Paul McCartney as dead?  After all there was Lennon in the front, dressed like a preacher man.  Following him, was Ringo Starr, dressed like a pallbearer perhaps?  Behind Ringo was Paul, “last cigarette” in hand, walking out of step, barefoot no less… all signs of a man in a casket.  And bringing up the rear, George Harrison, dressed like a gravedigger.  In reality it was just 4 cool guys in a very cool band dressed in whatever way they wanted that day, but it was fun to read into it all.  ‘Abbey Road’ was indeed the Beatles last album, and my personal favorite of the lot.  What a way to go out.

Neil Young ‘Time Fades Away’:  When I first purchased and listened to this Neil Young album, I had no idea of its uniqueness:  A live LP of completely original material.  How many original releases can make that claim?  The cover was pretty cool:  A nice photo of the crowd as viewed from the musician’s point-of-view; tossed rose in the foreground on the floor of the stage, a bearded fan giving the peace sign.  The band for this 1972 tour was the Stray Gators, which included Jack Nitzsche, Ben Keith and Tim Drummond.  Special guests for the recording included David Crosby and Graham Nash.  I love the title track, and have not had the chance to hear it in quite some time.  Why?  It turns out this is a rare album, never re-released on cd. 

The Who ‘Quadrophenia’:  Pete Townshend tried to load a whole bunch of concept into this tiny stretch of space and time, and I can feel it just looking at this album.  For one thing, he was working with the idea of a character, Jimmy, with 4 personalities, each personified by a member of the Who.  Roger Daltrey took offense to his character trait, that of the “Tough Guy”:  One of the many things Townshend had to deal with while bringing this album together.  Oh, but what an album!  Every member of the Who are at their best here.  If you want to hear some of the best bass lines ever put to track, listen to ‘Quadrophenia’.  Same goes for the drums, guitar, vocals and lyrics.  The story works very well with the music.  As for the cover, the Who images in the scooter’s 4 rear-view mirrors are classic.  And the last bit of liner notes about the story is always something I’ve found both comical and well meaning:  “No one in this story is meant to represent anyone either living or dead, particularly not the Mum and Dad.  Our Mums and Dads are all very nice and live in bungalows we bought for them in the Outer Hebrides.” 

Bob Dylan and the Band ‘The Basement Tapes’:  This is one of my all-time favorite album covers, showing Dylan and the Band, apparently in the basement of “Big Pink” in Woodstock New York with a bunch of circus performers.  The image in the way back, partially blinded out by the dull light?  I’m betting on Neil Young.  Anyhow, the album, which was released many years after the fact, was simply toying with the clandestine nature of these recordings, which originally were never supposed to be released.  Thank goodness they were, however.  This is a timeless, beautiful album.  Very little makes sense, and yet all makes sense.  The first 2 songs, Odds and Ends and Orange Juice Blues are my favorite.  Bessie Smith (GMVW # 87) is magical.  And when Richard Manuel sings Katie’s Been Gone, the pain in his voice is palpable. 

The Beatles ‘The Beatles’ (aka ‘The White Album’):  So plain the cover, but the simplicity spoke volumes to a young teenager, which was my age when I opened this album for Christmas.  I’m not sure what Santa was thinking of.  He could have given me a simple album like ‘Meet the Beatles’ or ‘Rubber Soul’.  Instead, he gave me a complex album of a band turning into individuals, and in the throes of a whole myriad of life-complicating problems, which they were not hesitant to communicate to the masses.  I’m not complaining at all about Santa’s choice for me, however.  I thoroughly enjoy thinking back to how this album grew on me. It’s an album that is all over the place in terms of song meaning, but somehow, inexplicably coherent. My favorite song on the album?  Believe it or not, its Harrison’s Long, Long, Long, with Martha My Dear a close second.

The Who ‘Who Are You’: I’ve already said plenty about this album (see GMVW # 74).  I’ll just add a few thoughts here about the cover.  It’s one of my favorite, bringing back memories to when I first received it as a birthday gift from Brother Joe.  If any band should be photographed being surrounded by high-voltage electrical equipment, it’s the Who.  And the “Not To Be Taken Away” wording on the back of the chair that Keith Moon is sitting in is a harbinger of what would prove to be just the opposite reality at the time of the album’s release (Moon’s death).

Bob Dylan ‘Blood on the Tracks’: With this album in my hand, I can almost feel the music oozing out of it.  As I look at the cover, I find it hard to believe how much was packed on it.  This is because there are so many avenues to go down: Tangled Up in Blue is only the beginning.  Try Sheltered From the Storm for good measure.  Or how about the period piece ‘Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts’ .  But it’s ‘Simple Twist of Fate’ that conjures up the most poignant of images on this massive, massive album.  Dylan was raw and deeply personal for the first time (but not the last) in his career.  It all worked masterfully.

The Beatles ‘Revolver’: I do not have my original copy of this album, but I wish I did.  My current copy has the order of songs completely different than what I recall.  Was there a British version and American version which were eventually combined?  I’m not sure.  All I know is that I was once addicted to a track list that appears to no longer exist.  ‘Revolver’ was the very first album-oriented rock album.  It still remains one of the best.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono ‘Double Fantasy’:  Well, of course this album will always bring back the memory of Lennon’s murder.  I recall listening to Watching the Wheels for the first time just after I first heard the horrible news.  When I picked up the album not soon after, I listened to it incessantly for months.  I even put up with the every-other track Yoko songs.  This was the first album by a Rock Star admitting to the fact that he was entering middle age. 

The Who ‘Face Dances’:  Such a great, great cover: Sixteen artists painting the individuals in the Who: 4 paintings of each member.  And the paint tubes on the back listing the songs?  Very original.  You Better You Bet is likely the only tune I ever sang comfortably in front of a crowd (Karaoke style).  Daily Records and Don’t Let Go the Coat are brilliantly honest.  There’s something different about this album that I still cannot put my finger on in terms of cohesive meaning, though I know it’s there for the taking with enough effort.  I’ll enjoy future listens until the time I finally nail it all down. 

The Rolling Stones ‘Beggar’s Banquet’:  The Rolling Stones appear to have had a lot of confidence during the making of this album. This is somewhat hard to believe as the Stones had some serious internal strife going in 1968:  Brian Jones was not working well as a band mate anymore and was on the cusp of getting tossed.  The assurance must have come from knowing that they now had that final piece of the puzzle, that being a great producer in Jimmy Miller.  Confidence came across in many ways, including medieval photography of the band as well as in the brash decision to put a graffiti-laced bathroom stall on the cover.  But it was the music inside that really exuded confidence:  A back-to-roots blues sound that found the band in great form.  This is the Stones coming of age.  They were part of the album-oriented rock aristocracy now.  They would never look back.

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So back to those questions:  What is album-oriented music, and in what ways did it effect my generation?  Well, in terms of the first question, this remains somewhat hard to define.  Album orientation does not necessarily have to mean a heavy concept or consistency in musical style (for example a great album can have both great blues sounding songs and great folk sounding songs).  Then what does it mean?  I believe the answer comes from the fan side of the coin.  A great album is what we make out of it.  How we are willing to discuss it.  What it means to us.  If an individual song means something to us that’s one thing.  If an album means something to us, that’s quite something else.  It’s a lot of hard work for the artist paying off in a big way.  It’s more range of meaning; an exponential number of avenues to explore compared to the single.  

As for the second question, I’ll continue to write about this one, but at this stage I can say this:  I think it made many of us deeper thinkers.  It also may have helped foster the notion that the world is not painted in black and white.  There are many shades of grey.  My generation has that figured out for the most part. 

This week’s Stepping Stone is No Expectations ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhk-ojOaopQ ).  It’s a great tune on a great album.  For the Rolling Stones, it was the first time those two ‘greats’ could be mentioned together into one overarching statement. 

It would not be the last.

-          Pete

(41st in a series of) Stepping Stones: "The Ties that Bind"

Song: Oh No, Not You Again

Album: A Bigger Bang

Released: September, 2005

My first expanded listen to ‘A Bigger Bang’ for this series resulted in Stepping Stone # 18 back in May (Laugh, I Nearly Died).  That entry followed on the heels of a week of enlightenment listening heavily to ‘Exile on Main St’ on a drive to a USGS meeting in Pennsylvania.  Seeing as ‘A Bigger Bang’, the Stones most recent major effort of original material, is the only other double studio album in their repertoire, I noted near the end of the entry the unfairness of not being able to give it the full attention it deserved while promising to return to it again when the time was right.  This week’s long drive to yet another meeting in Pennsylvania gave me that opportunity, and I added a few extra days beyond my typical deadline of Thursday nights for good effect.

The revisit was just what the doctor ordered, confirming my longstanding belief that this is a solid album through and through.  Similar to ‘Exile on Main St’, there are no big hits to speak of.  Yet, also like ‘Exile’, there are no weak links.   I’ll stop the comparisons there, but I will grant this to ‘A Bigger Bang’:  If it had been released back in the mid-70s, the album’s title would have been a bit more apropos.  There’s no attempt to connect with trends.  No, this is all about digging deeper. I’m willing to bet the Stones must have realized what they were up against though when they tackled this project:  Long-time listeners of the band were well into middle age, and in general it could be stated that a bit of apathy had set in for a fair percentage of us in relation to their new music.  Because of this, ‘A Bigger Bang’ likely has the largest gap of any Stones album between our insights of it and what it truly delivers.  Being underrated is one thing; combine it with many years of water under the bridge, and you get a disc that has clearly slipped under the radar.

I love how ‘A Bigger Bang’ starts out:  The first notes of Rough Justice (which came a close second to this week’s Stepping Stone) give the impression of a band wandering in from the cold.  Indeed, it had been 8 long years since the release of their prior studio album, ‘Bridges to Babylon’.  But in no time the Stones lock in, not only for Rough Justice, but for every song thereafter.  In other words, what follows is a series of very good to great tunes.  Several of the best include Rain Fall Down, She Saw Me Coming, Look What the Cat Dragged In, and Laugh, I Nearly Died. Each song is unique, powerful, and a bit eccentric …just like the good old days!

Tucked in the middle of the album is Oh No, Not You Again ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oglwLFx624 ):  A great, hard rocking tongue-in-cheek song.  The title is in-itself hilarious and is something Charlie Watt’s jokingly referred to when reconnecting with his longtime band mates for a post album tour in 2006 (which I attended along with Mac, Amy and Paul at Fenway Park).  Watt’s remark was funny to me because, being in the public eye for so long, he and his band mates were symbolic to many of us as having been through so much together, both high and low, which in many ways is a uniquely gratifying position to be in.  How would I know this?  Well, I’ve lived it myself with some of the longest running friendships a person could have.

I had all this in the back of my mind last Monday while driving down to the Delaware Water Gap and listening to Oh No, Not You Again and the rest of ‘A Bigger Bang’.  There was one major reason for making a connection with the concept of long-standing friendships as this week’s topic:  I had spent the weekend before camping in Vermont with Phil, John, and Pete; 3 guys I’ve known since sandbox days.

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The entire Blob Squad was invited to go camping in Southern Vermont this past long weekend.  As fate would have it though, only the longest-standing connections of this crew made it (along with my family and close friends Madeline and Jeff and their family).  I’ve been friends with Phil, John and Pete for quite some time.  I’ll try to put this into perspective:

Ø  Lyndon Baines Johnson was President when I first connected with Pete (that’s 9 Presidents ago), and it was the early years of the Nixon Administration when the same happened with Phil and John.

Ø  The Rolling Stones had not yet released ‘Let It Bleed’

Ø  The Beatles were still a band

Ø  Bobby Orr had not yet taken flight through the air at the hands (and stick) of Noel Picard

Ø  Vietnam was in the news for all the wrong reasons

Ø  There was no such thing as Punk Music, the Vancouver Canucks, the pocket calculator, Disco, Star Wars, the Muppets, or Saturday Night Live

Ø  There was not yet a proliferation of indoor shopping malls (the closest thing to them was the semi-enclosed Shoppers’ World in Framingham).

Ø  Burger King, Dunkin Donuts and 7-Eleven were closer to “Mom and Pop” than “Super Chain”

Ø  Franklin could still be considered a backwoods community

It’s funny the things you can reminisce on when you are 50 and connecting with guys you’ve been friends with since the age of 5.  First off, the inside jokes cover the gambit of life and can at times be extremely inside.  Inquisitive looks come from all directions, so if you are not in a position to explain something (often due to the bizarreness of the story behind it), you have to find a way to put a lid on it…at least until the crowds have thinned out a bit.  Secondly, it’s interesting what happens at our current age:  Any veneer of a front that may have existed in the past is practically gone.  There’s much more of an open book policy, which adds new angles to the reminiscing that may have not existed before.  As a result, black holes of misunderstandings have a chance to be filled in based on more clairvoyance. 

One of the most important aspects of longtime friendships that I connected with this past weekend, however, was coming to a better realization of the incredible value to how old friends keep you grounded.  It’s nothing like connections you make later in life, be they work, town, neighborhood, or even college related.  Your childhood friends really know your past:  Warts and all.   One story drawn out of me this week from the earliest days of 1^st grade, was when Sister Marie Saint Michael had the class take their crayons out of their original packaging and toss the emptied package into the trash barrel that was being brought around from desk to desk.  I missed the part about taking the crayons out first, and though confused, threw the entire package in the barrel.  When we were then directed to use our red crayon, I had nothing to work with, and began to get flustered.  The good Sister spotted me in my anguish and kind-naturedly had the class help me dig out my crayons from the barrel.  To this day, Phil notices that occasional lapse that can come with my decision-making process:  His smirks can take us both back 45 years. 

I believe most long-standing friendships, like ours, are roller coaster rides: They go up, they go down.  They expand and contract.  Let’s face it; the chance of having a buddy that shares all your personality traits and interests is rare.  And so over the years the bonds tighten and loosen.  Yes, it’s a variable history with these old friends I hang out with; rustling leaves, swaying branches, twisted trunk…but strong at the roots:  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Still there are occasions when “Oh No, Not You Again” seeps into your thoughts.  I kidded with Phil in one open wound moment this weekend (he questioning my sense of direction, which is about as under the belt and misguided as it gets for me), inquiring if he had heard anything about friendships having a shelf life.  I’m sure the Stones have tossed this thought around at one time or another.  Heck, they not only have a long-standing friendship; they also have a longstanding professional partnership.  Strains are bound to happen in such a relationship. 

The commonality of old ties: One of the many reasons I connect with the music of the Rolling Stones.

-          Pete

(40th in a series of) Stepping Stones: "Getting Style Points for Substance"

Song: Honky Tonk Women

Album: Released as a single

Released: July, 1969

Though it ultimately comes down to the songs themselves that make or break an album, there can be no denying that musicians and fans put plenty of value on the ‘extras’.  I covered many of these fringe factors in a series of ‘top’ lists at the tail end of each “Gem Music Video of the Week” from #’s 92-96 (the GMVW’s are accessible in the 2008 and 2009 entries of this blog).  Included were lists for ‘best album covers’, ‘best album titles’, ‘best band names’, ‘best song names’, and ‘best lyric one-liners’.  The winning bands/musicians in each of these categories ended up encompassing the entire breadth of personality types in the Rock ‘n’ Roll world, which is due to the fact that even the most minimalist of songsmiths cannot deny one simple truism:  Fringe elements do, on occasion, capture all of our imaginations.  And rightfully so:  The more insightful the ‘extras’, the more you can glean from the music. 

This week I thought back on those ‘best’ lists and realized that none of them have much to do with the many live performance ‘extras’ that musicians include in their tours.  Some might describe these stage-related novelties as artistic enhancements which help to boost the musical experience.  Others might call them theatrics, antics, sideshows, or props.  Whatever the case, these stage-centric add-ons can be as subtle as Dylan’s white face paint during his ’74 Rolling Thunder Review Tour (the anti-minstrel?) or as overt as the giant arachnid stage constructed for David Bowie’s 1987 ‘Glass Spider’ tour. 

And so, below are the top-ten, live concert “extras” which I have witnessed over a lifetime, ending with a Rolling Stones ‘89 live performance of this week’s Stepping Stone as my number 1.  Ok, there’s no Spinal Tap “Stonehenge”, or Alice Cooper snake, or Flaming Lips “hamster ball”, or Elton John crocodile rock suit in my list, but there have been many a “wow” moments nonetheless.

# 10 > A Bloated Elvis Moment: As I’ve stated before in earlier entries, 1989 was a big concert year for me.  Heavy hitters, including the Who and the Stones were rolling through the Boston region, and I was gobbling it all up.  In the midst of all this, Mac and I attended a Joe Jackson concert at Great Woods, and got to see up close the amazing abilities of Jackson’s bass guitarist, Graham Maby, who performed the fast-paced I’m the Man to perfection near the end of the show (which included a mad rush of fans to the stage that appeared to rattle the band).  Joe Jackson himself, however, was primarily focused on the songs from his new album at the time, ‘Blaze of Glory’.  One of these was Nineteen Forever, which harped on rockers past their prime.  Knowing very well the big guns were touring that year (stating something to this effect), he took particular glee in the concept, dressing up as a bloated, drunken Elvis as he sang the song.  It was all rather impressive, but I do recall thinking he was a bit off the mark:  Had Jackson actually seen these shows that the Who and Stones were performing that year?  Was this an honest evaluation?  Joe Jackson is touring this year at the age of 58. I wonder if he’s playing Nineteen Forever?

# 9 > Raw Emotion:  I’m pushing things a bit here in terms of “extras”, but in an intimate live setting, there are certain emotions you can garner from a musician that are near impossible to interpret on a recording.  And few artists express themselves as well as Jonathan Richman.  This man wears his emotions on his sleeves, expressing himself primarily through vivid facial expressions. His face can wear a pleading look at times:  “Please try to understand what I am saying!” is what comes across.  Aside from his great writing ability, this is a big reason why Richman has such a cult following.  When he’s getting a point across in song s like Pablo Picasso, That Summer Feeling, Let Her Go into the Darkness, and Everyday Clothes, you can hear a pin drop. 

# 8 > The 3^rd Best Garage Band in the World:  In 1986 my friend Bob Bouvier took me to a Neil Young and Crazy Horse show at Great Woods.  Of all the shows I have seen, this was the one I was the least prepared for.  I remember thinking, “ok, I’ll go for Bob”.  It did not take long to realize this event was something special (aren’t the best of the unexpected moments in our lives as good as it gets though?).  The stage was set up like the inside of an old garage.  The band played Powder Finger, Needle and the Damage Done, and Hurricane (as well as many other songs) with reckless abandon.  And when the “fire-hydrants” burst and the garage flooded up in low-lying fog, Neil Young emerged from the mist and blew us all away by “dancing across the water” with Cortez the Killer!

# 7 > The Bridge to Somewhere: For their Bridges to Babylon tour, the Rolling Stones would include a 3 or 4 song set on a mini stage which sat 30 yards in front of the main stage.  How to get out there? :  A retractable cantilever bridge that extended over the crowd.  The mini stage was a mood shifter.  When the Stones played on it, you got a feel for what it was like for them to play in a smoky Scottish hall or German hofbrauhaus in the mid 60s.  The band seemed to morph into younger versions of themselves out there.  And I was impressed that they did not simply play their old songs:  They mixed things up, playing a couple of latter day hits.  The concept worked wonders. 

# 6 > When Style Matches Substance:  I missed out on John Entwistle’s skeleton suit, but I have seen some fascinating complementary garb in my day.  David Bowie drew everyone’s attention on his ‘Serious Moonlight’ tour in ‘83.  Mick Jagger was something else in a fine blue Sgt Pepper looking outfit while singing Ruby Tuesday on the ’89 ‘Steel Wheels’ tour. Mike Mills added spice to the R.E.M shows of the early to mid-90s in his rhinestone cowboy “nudie suits” (Mills bass playing on What’s the Frequency Kenneth was for me a mind expanding experience).  There was also the whirling dervish effect of Natalie Merchant in full length gown singing What’s the Matter Here in front of (and behind) 10,000 Maniacs.  More recently there was the likes of Gandalf Murphy and his Outer Slambovian Circus of Dreams:  Gandalf would make Wavy-Gravy proud.  For my money, though, nothing beats Neil Young’s faded, un-tucked plaid shirts.

# 5 > The Ladies from Planet Claire: Nancy Wilson and Kate Pierson are something to behold.  These ladies captivated me with their bee-hive hairdos and new-wave stage presence.  As opposed to my first time seeing Neil Young with Crazy Horse, I had high expectations for the B52s.  They did not disappoint, as the musicianship was impeccable.  Wilson and Pierson proved to me that even a band that sings Rock Lobster could be taken for real.

# 4 > Happy New Year! :  The Band’s stage setup at the Paradise on New Year’s Eve ‘93-‘94 was as funky as it gets.  Rick Danko stood in a spot that literally looped out over the crowd.  Levon Helm’s kit was so close to the front of the stage, you had the sense that if he hit the bass drum too hard, it could topple into the lot of us.  Garth Hudson and his massive organ were easily accessible stage left.  And what better ‘extra’ than The Band joining us all for a champagne toast at midnight?  Nancy (pregnant with Charlotte) and I were in our glory. 

# 3 > The Band That Never Needed Props:  Well, I never did get to see Keith Moon’s drumming or any of his other antics (such as descending to his drum kit from high above the stage via a pulley system on the Who’s ’75 tour).  But I’ve seen Pete Townshend as “Bird Man”.  And I’ve seen Roger Daltrey spinning his microphone as if he were dicing a salad.  And I’ve seen John Entwistle’s nimble thunder fingers at work.  This is a band that stands up as its very own real-life prop:  A four-ring circus in the early days, and more manageable three rings by the time I got to see them.

# 2 > The Wall in front of The Wall: The stage set that ranged from the Fisk pole to the Pesky pole at Fenway Park was astoundingly intimate for such a large event.  Roger Waters take on “The Wall” is verrrrrry serious, and I have absolutely no reason to disagree:  Europe went to hell and back in the 20^th century, and he captures it all here.  In terms of stage dynamics, Waters pulled out all the stops on this tour: The crashing plane to start the story; the characters in front of and behind the wall; the amazing imagery, the machine-gun mow down of the crowd; and the pig blimp (representing excess).  In the end Mr. Waters marveled at the unique Fenway atmosphere that surrounded him.  We marveled back.

# 1 > Honky Tonked:  Yes, the number one entry is the ‘89 Rolling Stones live performance of Honky Tonk Women (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-hMQWqVVzw ).  Why # 1?  Well, we are talking 60 foot inflatables here:  I guess if you have been to the Macy’s Day Parade (which is not the case for me), it’s no big deal.  What really impressed me, however, was how the Stones set the mood many years earlier with the penning of this song in 1969.  In other words, it was all there for the taking; they simply had to seize the moment, which they did.  The entire atmosphere came together perfectly.  This is what separates a great ‘extra’ from a dud:  The idea that a prop can reinvigorate, or even recreate an atmosphere.   Which leads to yet another reason why this entry is winner:  Those blow-ups were true props, giving this entry a few bonus points over some of the others.  Finally, the brass band moving to the beat rounded out this masterful vision.

In the studio version of Honky Tonk Women: ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6M77oHD110 ), Mick Taylor introduces himself as a Rolling Stone at the 48 second mark and does so again, a bit more assertively at the 1:35 mark.  This is followed by a very nice bridge jam with Keith Richards.   Yes, it was a solid song listening to it on ‘Hot Rocks’ years earlier, but it evolved into a Stepping Stone in 1989.

-          Pete

(39th in a series of) Stepping Stones: "It's All a Matter of Taste"

Song: (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

Album: Out of Our Heads (US Version)

Released: July, 1965

Got a hold of the Rolling Stones 3^rd LP this week:  1965’s ‘Out of Our Heads’.  It was a refreshing diversion.  I’d been up in the canopy for some time, listening to the Stones as most of us know them; the hit makers, with the reputation as the greatest of all Rock ‘n’ Roll bands.  Now I was slipping down the trunk and digging into their early-day roots:  Blues music, with a hint of the band’s then-future sound. 

In terms of Stepping Stones, there was not a heck of a lot to choose from on this album, primarily since I’d ruled out cover songs from the get go for this blog series (the toughest song to drop in this regard is the Stones exceptional cover of Just My Imagination on 1977s ‘Some Girls’).  My stance would mean more than half the album was off limits, including the great opening number, Mercy, Mercy (who is it singing the high-note Entwistle-like backing vocals, anyway?).  As for ‘Out of Our Heads’ originals, I’d already used one for a Stepping Stone (The Last Time > SS # 9, which I cheated on by listening to their ‘Singles’ compilation cd that week instead of the original album), but there still remained several pretty good candidates, including The Spider and the Fly, Play with Fire and The Under-Assistant West Coast Promotion Man. 

Oh, and there was one other song….the one which just so happened to hit the number 2 position in Rolling Stone Magazine’s top 500 songs of all time back in 2004.  Of course I’m talking about (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, a principle contribution in the Stones path to stardom.  ‘Satisfaction’ is about as catchy as you can get if you are looking to make it big time, which is indeed what transpired way back when. 

But my gut reaction, going all the way back to January when I dreamed this series up, was to rule it out.  I had to be honest with myself:  Ever since I can remember, ‘Satisfaction’ has simply not connected with me; at least not in the same vein as so many of those other Rolling Stones songs I’ve reflected on this year.  I do recognize what it has brought to the Rock and Roll alter, and do not dispute its lofty status in the annals of music history.  But taste is taste; this I could not deny.  Heck, I’ll even admit to holding off a bathroom visit at one live event until the moment I heard the opening guitar notes to this song.  In fact, I’m willing to bet I did it on more than one occasion.

I realized the danger in passing it up: Could any Stepping Stone list be complete without (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction in the mix?  Geez….there would be no chance of these diatribes ever being taken seriously would there?  I can see it now, sitting at some suits desk at Faber and Faber thirty or so years down the road: “We like your concept and writing style old man. You are a trifle delusional, but the biggest issue is that you have to be a complete idiot to overlook ‘Satisfaction’! ”.  And that was even if I made it that far.  Beforehand there would likely be Keith Richards to deal with in some dark alley behind Fenway Park after a show on the Stones next tour, switchblade at my throat:  “What were you thinking, Steeeeeeeves!” 

Yet here I am writing about the Rolling Stones biggest hit, despite my history of ambivalence toward it.  How did I get to this point?  I’d like to think it has nothing to do with the mostly fleeting and farfetched hope of authorship, or fear of a violent ending at the hands of a master blades-man.  The answer, I believe, was there in front of me for the taking all these years.  However, before getting into how I cleared this hurdle, let me first reflect on the possible reasons why ‘Satisfaction’ never made inroads with me before.

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Oversaturation?  How do you repair oversaturation?  I mean, once a song maxes out on your psyche, can you ever get back to the pre-saturation stage?  Let’s say you were stranded on a desert island for 5 years.  You build a raft, drift on it for a few days.  A cruise ship picks you up.  It’s karaoke night.  All those greatest hits are being sung by the passengers; off key no less.  But again you haven’t heard any music for 5 agonizing years.   Is it possible that those songs could gain second wind status?

When did I reach the point where this song became oversaturated?  Anyone who listened to WBCN, WAAF, and WZLX as much as I did in the 70s and 80s could sympathize:  ‘Satisfaction’ was played “early and often”.  And this song was not alone in the “used and abused” department.  Don’t get me wrong.  WBCN could dig deep, which made it well worth listening to the repetition.  But still, it could be enough at times to have you morph into pirate mode..  arghhhh!

One difference between Nancy and I has always been that when something ‘old and tired’ is queued up on the radio, she usually starts surfing.  I on the other hand, tend to stand pat, willing to suffer out a few tedious minutes with the belief that there is something good coming up right around the corner.  I’ve also been willing to forgive a good DJ for an occasional gaff in judgment.  The risk to this approach, however, is delving even deeper into the repetitiveness.  Perhaps Nancy’s approach works better:  If you don’t want to start hating the song, change it and save the possibility that you will enjoy it later once the rote of it fades from memory.

Yes, oversaturation was possible.  But the more I thought about it the more I realized there was never a time when I was not oversaturated with ‘Satisfaction’.  Reflecting on earlier days listening to Fred’s copy of ‘Hot Rocks’ (see SS # 11 for details), I recall my lukewarm reaction every time the tune played on the turntable. 

It had to be something else then.   

Too Darn Simple?    The Stones rely on simplicity more than any other band I enjoy, except maybe Neil Young with Crazy Horse.  And make no mistake: (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction is simple.  Maybe not as much as their later hit Get Off of My Cloud… but close enough.  Throughout my music-listening lifespan, I’ve tended to gravitate more to the complex, whether lyrically or musically.  My thorough enjoyment of Bob Dylan’s entire ‘Time Out of Mind’ album is a good example.  The Rolling Stones have plenty of examples of complex lyrics and arrangements as well.  But ‘Satisfaction’ is just so darn ‘out of the box’ sounding.  It has the feel like anyone could have conjured it up.  I mean, Keith Richards, a man not prone to hyperbole, has stated that he practically wrote the song in his sleep (a play back of the recorded riff the morning after was two minutes of guitar, the sound of a dropped pick and “then me snoring for the next forty minutes”). 

But I’ve grown to enjoy other simple sounding tunes.  Sometimes, it’s all you need.  Johnny Cash is straight up, as are the Flying Burrito Brothers, and the Ramones.  Despite my willingness to open up to these more simple sounds though, ‘Satisfaction’ was still, until this week, not on my appreciation list.

Nope, simplicity was not the answer either.

The Guitar-Centric Sound?  OK, now I think I’m getting somewhere.  I don’t believe I have ever been a big fan of the guitar-centered song, which remains a fact to this day.  This is probably why I have never been heavy into Hendrix, Clapton, Jeff Beck, Led Zeppelin or Van Halen (god forbid).  I’m more into the subtle guitar.  Townshend is more often subtle than not, willing to let the bass and drums rule the lead sound (very unique to the Who) and filling in where necessary.  Dylan’s guitar sounds are subtle, as are the Beatles, the Band, and R.E.M.  Neil Young, again, is a rare exception.  Don’t ask why… I could not explain it.  Not yet anyways, though perhaps sometime soon when I focus on Mr. Live Rust himself in a later series.

Like the Kink’s You Really Got Me, and All Day and All of the Night, the Stones (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction has that distorted guitar sound that just does not resonate with me.  Of all people, Keith Richards may be on the same page.  He rarely ‘struts his stuff’, and actually wanted to replace his original riff for the song with horns (the rest of the band overruled him).  I’ve been imagining what that would sound like all week, and I like what I “hear”.  Perhaps the band should reconvene in the studio and give it another take.

Yes, this theory, heavy guitar-centric sound, may be pretty close to the truth of the matter, so I’ll close this self-critique for the time being.

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I did not climb all the way out of my ‘Satisfaction’ doldrums this week, but I did make it far enough to include it here as a Stepping Stone ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_VbImuG71M ).  How?  Well, it mostly has to do with what I should have known all along:  Putting the song into its proper context.  Despite having heard it a plethora of times in my lifetime, I never really listened in that original ‘Out of Our Heads’ environment before.  There was radio, there was greatest hits records, and there was live, but never this.  Listening to an original album simply puts you in the moment.  It gives you a much better sense of the songs place in history (take note Pat and all you downloaders out there).

And so, surrounded by blues numbers and other early self-penned, unique sounding tunes, I got to enjoy the lead vocals, beat, bass, and even guitar on ‘Satisfaction’ a bit more than before:  Not quite to the point where I envision performing the song karaoke style any time soon (see Mick Jagger on his most recent SNL visit for a hilarious skit related to such a scene), but enough to put up with someone else giving it a go.

Taste is taste after all.  This week gave me a chance to explore it some in myself.

-          Pete

(38th in a series of) Stepping Stones: "Keith's Conundrum"

Song: Sleep Tonight

Album: Dirty Work

Released: March, 1986

“What was I thinking?”  This about summed up my state of mind this past weekend after several days into a risky venture.  I was wasting valuable time, and had about reached the point of cutting my losses and moving on.  There was still half a week to make up for my mistake.  A bit of a scramble, but so be it: I had dug this hole, and now it would be up to me to climb out of it.

The reason for all this unease:  Believing I could find a gem in the rough on ‘Dirty Work’, an album that has gained a reputation over the years as the 3^rd rail of Rolling Stones records.  Recorded smack dab in the middle of the “video killed the radio star” decade, ‘Dirty Work’ was immediately panned by rock critics for lacking any collaborative substance, and has not fared much better critique with the test of time.  The first single from the album, Harlem Shuffle, was a cover song for goodness sake!  The second single, One Hit (to the Body), a fair to middling effort by Stones standards, was backed by a video ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfiQejr9MhE ) that helps to explain why Keith Richards’ hostile nickname for Mick Jagger in those days was ‘Brenda’.  Upon its release in 1986, the album came across to me right off as at best thin, and at worst forgettable.  And here I was giving it a 2^nd chance?  If I couldn’t connect with it back in my more clairvoyant mid-20s days, how was I going to now?  And of bigger risk than a lost week of inspiration: Would this jaded and no-longer faded memory of the Stones derail - or even 3^rd rail - my running nine-month journey altogether? 

And so, there I was this past Saturday afternoon on a drive to the hardware store, staring at the radio and struggling to make some sense out of the second track on the album, Fight, one of many songs on ‘Dirty Work’ that reeks of collegial inauthenticity; so un-Stones like. I tried to sympathize by first pulling myself further into those springier shoes of yesteryear, rehashing my younger-self’s thoughts.  Waves of 80s pop shtick began flooding my mind; unavoidable way back when and easy enough to recollect now.

Ahh, yes… I was now recalling that even while living the era it was clear to many of us that the Rolling Stones were not alone in their lack of depth perception during this period:  Many other bands were also challenged in this regard, likely due to an over focus on the telegenic at the expense of the telemetric.  And the biggest culprits were the lead singers:  All glitz and glamor; feathered hair, blowing in electric-fan induced wind.  Not many of these front men made it through the decade with their old reputations intact:  Certainly Mick Jagger slipped a notch or two, but so did Roger Daltrey, Sting, Robert Plant, Benjamin Orr, Eric Clapton, David Bowie, and others.  The lure of the camera, it would seem, had gotten the best of them.

MTV, however, was the least of the Stones problems when ‘Dirty Work’ began to take form in 1985.  First off, Keith Richards and Mick Jagger were barely on speaking terms.  After several decades as one of the best songwriting tandems of all time, it appeared the magic had finally run its course.  Why the discord?  For one thing, Richards was fuming that Jagger had signed a solo record deal:  How could his longtime partner split his creative allegiances?  To Richards it was near impossible.  This, among other issues, would see Jagger and Richards putting alternating time shifts in the studio during the making of ‘Dirty Work’, much like Lennon and McCartney during the production of the ‘The Beatles’ (aka the ‘White Album’) in 1968.  On top of all this, Charlie Watts, of all people, was struggling with substance abuse.  And Bill Wyman was becoming indifferent in his attitude about the band, later admitting that this period had convinced him the Stones glory days had passed them by (personally, I think Wyman was just turning into an old fart).    

All of this entered my mind on that drive to the hardware store as Fight blasted on my speakers.  I had a few other Stones discs to switch over to, and was - oh so close - to making the transition.  But I didn’t.  I allowed the song, and the rest of the album, to play on.  And then I played it all again…. and again.  At the time of this writing (Thursday night) I’ve now replayed the album at least another 10 times.  Through it all, it’s defiantly begun to grow on me.  In fact, I’d go as far as saying that it has made its way a few notches up the Stones album ladder in my book. 

How in the world did this happen?

Well to start with, somewhere along the lines I began to realize that ‘Dirty Work’ is unique.  How many albums can you name where the parties involved are openly dissing each other in the music?  Other than this one, I could not think of many.  There was a single, “Hatred”, by the Kinks, where Ray and Dave Davies go at it.  As for the Beatles death throes days, the ‘Let it Be’ sessions were very tense (all caught on camera no less), but the animosity between band members did not come through in the music or lyrics (other than a substandard product).  I’m sure many other bands went through internal strife as well.  Hey, for the Who, tension was actually a sign of normality.  But again, it’s rare to see it all play out on record.

Sure there have been tongue lashings between EX-band members in song:  How do you Sleep (Lennon lashing out at McCartney) and Too Many People (McCartney lashing out at Lennon) come to mind.  And verbal abuse has numerous examples of playing out post breakup through the press as well, including Levon Helm’s resentment of Robbie Roberston; John Fogerty vs the rest of CCR; and Roger Waters’ anger at David Gilmour.  ‘Dirty Work’ raises the ante, however:  Almost every one of the nine Jagger/Richards penned songs (several also co-written by Ronnie Wood) could easily be interpreted as being about their deteriorating partnership, including Fight, Hold Back, Winning Ugly, Dirty Work, Had It With You, Sleep Tonight and One Hit to the Body, (with that aforementioned video showing the Glimmer Twins duking it out).  Rather than crediting these songs “Jagger and Richards”, CBS records should probably have listed them as “Jagger vs. Richards”. 

‘Dirty Work’, like the Frankenstein Monster, has the feel of coming together piece by piece.  There’s no live - jamming in the studio - feel to it whatsoever; no Can’t You Hear Me Knocking here (see Stepping Stone # 19).  At the time, it was just depressing to envision.  But with the benefit of hindsight, and now knowing the Stones would make their way through this low point in their history, it’s more interesting than anything. 

And yet, amazingly, back when everyone else thought it was the end of the Rolling Stones, Keith Richards was already planning for brighter days ahead, and doing it “on the record” in the process.  This declaration would give fans a peak into the man’s soul. 

Most importantly for me though, it would give me a Stepping Stone on ‘Dirty Work’ after all.

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How do you get the type of vision that Keith Richards reveals in Sleep Tonight ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jor4tBpGOzc ), a song that apparently suggests to his songwriting partner to get some rest, because there is much to aspire to in the days ahead?  At the same time, how do you step out of the moment, that caustic atmosphere described above, to pen such lyrics?  I’m not sure, but I keep thinking about Richards’ stamina… the ability to stick out almost anything.  Keeping the candle burning.  Being there in the wee hours.  Picking up on the little things through a sheer quantity of moments of listening to others.  Engaging in late night heavy talk sessions. Stoking the campfire when most everyone else is asleep.  Recognizing and appreciating your elders. Resisting the urge of pigeonholing yourself into tighter and tighter factions of ‘like minds’.   If there is any individual in the Stones who I’ve gained a greater appreciation for during this year of writing about them, it is Keith Richards.  As with Richards, I’d like to believe I’ve been there for those quality moments too. It’s not always easy to stick things out.  Burnout can seep into the picture.  It takes patience, fortitude and a genuine fascination in the lives of those around you. I’m pretty sure it’s those moments that gave Richards the freedom, flexibility and character to write a song like Sleeps Tonight.

I admit up front to not having gained this insight into the meaning of Sleeps Tonight on my own (while keeping in mind that with any great song, there certainly are other meanings):  A bit of research had me tracking a very interesting web site ( http://www.stylusmagazine.com/articles/on_second_thought/rolling-stones-dirty-work.htm ) that puts a positive spin on ‘Dirty Work’, including discourse on the Sleeps Tonight concept raised here.  But I was piecing some of it together on my own beforehand when I wrote about the ‘Steel Wheels’ tour for Stepping Stone # 15.  As discussed in that write up, a favorite Stones story of mine is that of Keith Richards pulling up to the studio to begin work on that 1989 album and subsequent world tour.  Before getting out of the car, he would hear Charlie Watts drumming inside and a great big grin crept across his face, which he would catch as he looked in the rearview mirror.  In Watts drumming, Richards could hear that Sleeps Tonight was finally beginning to play out 3 years later.  He deserved that moment.  He’d earned it.

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One of my goals with this series was to fit at least three Keith Richards lead vocals in, which I’ve done now.  I’m glad to have been taken by surprise with Sleeps Tonight.  The original song I had in mind was Little T&A off the ‘Tattoo You’ album.  A great tune, but I could never think of what to write in relation to it:  Discussion points on the line “the pools in but the patio ain’t dry” was just not going to cut it. 

‘Dirty Work’ can pretty much be viewed as Richards first solo album, with Jagger as a hired gun for the lead singing.  He would follow up over the next 5 years with several real solo efforts including ‘Talk is Cheap’ and ‘Main Offender’.    Both have been very well received by critics and fans.  Richards has credited ‘Dirty Work’ for setting those wheels in motion, particularly in his vocal delivery:  With Mick Jagger an infrequent visitor in the studio, Richards had to sing the first cut of songs he was writing much more than on previous albums.  I’m sure there are some interesting early-cuts of ‘Dirty Work’ songs that will make the bootleg rounds one day (if they have not already).

A few final thoughts on the 80s.  The decade was distinct, there’s no doubt about that. Daughter Charlotte, who did not live it, has an instinctual distaste for the period.  Every decade has its cultural lows, including the 60’s (drugs) and 70s (disco).  But Charlotte doesn’t seem to have a problem with either. The 80s low was a bit more superficial.  It’s not as easy to define the downside compared to those earlier decades. But just having a corner on the word ‘superficial’?  That’s low.

But there is always at least a little redeeming value in most anything.  There are those, for example, who would defend the likes of box office bombs like Ishtar and Water World, or DC Comics circa the late 70s, or David Bowie’s ‘Glass Spider’ tour (see GMVW # 37), or Barney.  I understand this more now.  ‘Dirty Work’ was dead in the water for me back in the 80s, but it found a second life.  Was it a change in taste that did this or a broader perspective?  Perhaps it’s time to give some of those other 80s duds a second chance, such as Dylan’s ‘Empire Burlesque’, the Who’s ‘It’s Hard’, and the Kinks ‘Think Visual’ (can anyone name even one song off that album just off the top of their head?).  Yes, those floodgates just may have reopened.

Keith Richards is no miracle worker:  I don’t think I’ll ever fully embrace ‘Dirty Work’, as I can’t help but picturing Mick Jagger working out to those Olivia Newton John workout videos - headband, spandex, Physical blaring in the background (the general health of the band was actually Jagger’s biggest concern in the 80s, which is documented in a cartoon in the picture sleeve of the cd, the fictitious Olga, trying to whip the band into shape).  But Richards?  Watts?   Just conjuring the image is hilarious. 

It was all part of Keith Richards conundrum at the time.  He chose to wait it all out.  And by doing so, he took the road less travelled, ultimately making for some memorable experiences for many of us in the ‘Steel Wheels’, ‘Bridges to Babylon’ and ‘Bigger Bang’ days that would follow.

-          Pete