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Friday, January 1, 2016

Under the Big Top # 1: “A Pete Meet-and-Greet”


(personal reflections inspired by Who songs)


Song: “The Seeker”

Album: Compilation album Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy

Release Date: December, 1971



The young woman handed me the microphone and the spotlight was thrust my way as I stood up from my seat in the front row of the Berklee Performance Center balcony and looked down at the familiar ace face on the stage, he in turn looking up at me.  The nervousness coursing through my veins belied my 50 years of life experience and numerous public speaking engagements to that point.  But then, here I was in a prestigious theatre hall packed to capacity with music connoisseurs, students and academicians on a Boston campus that is world renowned for the study of lyric and melody, gearing up to pose a loosely formulated question to an icon in the business who also happened to be my personal favorite musician, Mr. Pete Townshend.  The fact that my good friend and fellow Who enthusiast, Mac was seated next to me to potentially heckle any slip of the tongue didn’t help matters either.


The event was a book signing (yes, everyone in the 1200 + seat theatre got a signed hardcopy of Pete Townshend’s just published 2012 memoir Who I Am).  A few moments earlier, Townshend wrapped up an engaging interview on stage with a Berklee professor and had now opened the floor to a few questions from the audience (the event would close soon after with a 3-song solo performance).  The two inquiries prior to mine were simple and unimaginative.  Both were brushed aside for the most part.  This immediately brought to mind that, although this rock star could be extremely genial and contemplative when connecting with his fans, he could also be unpredictable and acerbic.


During the interview portion, I had spotted the young lady behind me with the microphone, stepping out into the aisle, and I knew what was coming.  I decided to seize the moment if I got her attention when the time came.  But what was I to ask?  I knew it could be so easy to blow such a moment, and those two professor types who asked questions from up front, prior to my being the lone selection in the peanut gallery, proved this.  Yet I took some comfort in the thought that asking Pete Townshend questions had floated through my mind quite often over the prior 35 years.  I quickly dug into the extensive back catalog of the Who corner of my brain and poked around for something poignant.  There was so much to weave through: Concerts, books, studio albums, bandmates, solo works, movies, radio interviews, articles, songs, lyrics, arrangements, and inspirations. There were punks and godfathers, slip kids and seekers, sell outs and bargains, sea and sand.  There was preaching; through overtures, undertures and on chairs.  There were beggars buying rounds, and words being immobile until you sit down.  There was old red wine well past it’s prime, and being resigned to crashing by design.  Is a little still enough? What happens if you let go the coat?


A thought began to gel that centered on Pete Townshend’s musical relationship with his childhood friend and bandmate, bass man-extraordinaire, John Entwistle, who had passed on 10 years prior.  When the time came however, I had not completely pulled it together, and so I came slowly out of the gate.  I started with a stumbling, mumbling appreciation, which included a Ken Russell quote from my all-time favorite movie The Kids are Alright.  Yes, I introduced myself to this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by thanking this man I was now speaking directly to for “rising us out of our decadent ambient state”.  I was trying to be funny while at the same time hoping to keep clear of stale, standard fodder in expressing my admiration.  I succeeded in the latter at least. Not very many got it though, which probably included Pete.  Ouch.

 And yet, at this early stage in my loquacious query I already sensed a kinship with Mr. Townshend, who A) has been accused of similar folly and B) likely had already realized through some gestalt-like recognition (thanks to many years of being patient with fans like me) that I was no Who-ophyte.  He didn’t say a word.  On the contrary, it appeared he leaned forward some to hear me out.  This gave me a bit of confidence which I sorely needed at this point.  I moved on.


I started my question by mentioning that I had recently read Keith Richards’ 2010 memoir Life, and that what I was most intrigued by in the book was what he wrote about how Rolling Stones songs came together in the studio.  There were little nuggets here and there, but these were few and far between.  I was hoping for more.  I wanted to know how a great band made their composer’s original efforts better.  What was that magic touch that put the Stones (and the Who) above the fray when it came to putting a studio album together as a band?  I did not flesh this entirely out, but I was hoping Townshend would understand the intent of this lead-in to the core of my question.  Also, I was hoping that his book had more to tell in this regard (unfortunately it does not, though I do consider it a worthwhile reading for many other reasons, not the least of which is brutal honesty).

Finally, I got to the crux of the matter.   I stated that as far as I could tell, there have been few situations in his career where Pete played a secondary ensemble role for another composer, and that the bulk of these were for John Entwistle.  I wanted to know what this felt like and whether or not he (Townshend) was satisfied with the results of his guitar playing on Entwistle songs, seeing as I did not hear nearly the innovation that I heard on many of his own compositions. I was about to suggest that the Ox (Entwistle) left no room for Pete Townshend to be innovative because his songs are oh so heavy with bass guitar, but I did not get the chance.   “Are you being critical?” Pete asked.  Ouch again!  My one opportunity to converse with the man whose music I had analyzed to borderline ad-nauseam at times appeared to be taken as a slight.  I replied something to the effect of “No, no not at all…..”


That was the end of my ramblings though.  Pete Townshend took over from there.


First he compared/contrasted his and Keith Richards’ song-writing styles, emphasizing the differences by stating that Keith’s approach was to grow a song in the studio with the Stones, where his own approach was to submit an already well-polished song to the Who.  Again, I was hoping for more because I had already known all this (and I am pretty sure most in the crowd did too), but it was still reassuring to get such thoughtful feedback after what happened with the earlier questions.

** Looking back, my thinking was that, although the demoes Pete Townshend brought to the band were indeed well polished, with all instrumentation performed by him alone in his home studio: Drums, bass, guitar, piano, synthesizer…. everything (which we all get to hear on Townshend’s Scoop records) the Who took things to another level entirely.  There is deeper meaning than has been addressed anywhere (Pete Townshend included) regarding the true value of the band when it came to making Who songs together in the studio, which I believe included their talent, mutual respect, faith, patience, a unique kinship and other intangibles.  Without Keith Moon, Roger Daltrey and John Entwistle (and his own willingness to be a piece of that puzzle…..a very important point and a fact he has often struggled with), Townshend would likely have been another brilliant musician never to get mass public recognition (for good or ill).  Having followed his career rather closely, I don’t believe Pete Townshend has thought all of that through, probably due to the painfully drawn out process of what it took to make a Who record and also what he likely considered to be his substantial investment beforehand, tilting the scales in his mind.

Next Pete Townshend discussed the Entwistle part of my question.  He lamented that “they never fell under my fingers, his songs”, but if he were to signal out one it would be “Heaven and Hell” (I agree, and to this day wish I had called that one out).  I loved this part of his reply.  It was sincere and seemed to touch a chord.  The Boston Globe writer Marc Hirsh who was there to cover the event, agreed in his review.  So did a DJ on xm radio who was there, and who I luckily tuned into the next day at the right moment on a work trip up to Canada.

So there you have it…..my opening salvo to this year’s focus on the music of the Who and the memory it evokes within me.  I would like to think I have plenty of ammo to keep this rolling week to week throughout 2016.  This band has touched my soul in many ways, and I don’t just mean in a distant, informal way (other than my Berklee encounter with Pete Townshend and a hand shake with John Entwistle which I will discuss at some point).  I also mean in a personal and interpersonal way...woven into my interactions with friends and family.  Those close to me know this.  It’s a part of Who I am, and is some of what I hope to flesh out here.


When I started this blog series as a 2-year weekly email shout-out to friends and family back in 2008 and 2009 (all of which can be tracked on this blog site), there were a handful of entries that captured the spirit of the Who (and solo Townshend) in my life.  My attempt here is to add to all of that.  As always I add an exclamation to all my entries with a song that helped spur my discussion points for a given week.  The appropriate choice this time around?... why “The Seeker” of course! ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrO4_nyamZs ).


In closing:  By chance, 2016 just so happens to be the year that I will most certainly be catching my final Who show (if not for a Roger Daltrey bout with Viral meningitis it would have been last year):  Pete and Roger see the writing on the wall after a truly amazing career on the road.   I plan to celebrate accordingly with my fellow Who admirers.  I also envision the event (coming up in April) will serve as a deep well for future blog entries.


This should be fun.


- Pete









Wednesday, December 31, 2014

"Forever Young" posts

Below are links to each of the 50 Forever Young entries, most of which were written weekly throughout 2014 (the first 2 were written as part of an earlier “GMVW” series written in 2008 and 2009, which can also be found in this blog).  The red text below is the song focus for that given entry.  The blue text in quotes is my title for the entry.  The url link is below each title. The next series will focus on the music of the Who.  If you are interested in a future series, please sign up as a member of this Blog and I will send a notice when I get started again.

# 1
Change Your Mind
"The Chameleon"

# 2
Hey Hey My My (Into the Black)
"Can a Guitar Sweat?  Check!"
# 3
 Powderfinger
"Blindsided"

# 4
Long May You Run
"Olympic Gold"

# 5
Someday
"Carpe Diem”

# 6
Cough Up the Bucks
"Tarred and Feathered"

# 7
Cinnamon Girl
"Setting the Record Straight"

# 8
Harvest Moon
"Just Rewards"
# 9
Time Fades Away
"Structurally (un)Sound"

# 10
Broken Arrow
"The Pact”

# 11
Harvest
"Unplugged"

# 12
Bandit
"Expecting the Unexpected"

# 13
Barstool Blues
"How Do You Know When a Diamond Is Real"

# 14
The Loner
"Lock Picking”

# 15
Love and War
"Music to my Ears"

# 16
Come on Baby Lets Go Downtown
"The Time Capsule"
# 17
Ordinary People
"The Commencement Speech”
# 18
Motorcycle Moma
"You Can’t Be Serious"

# 19
Walk Like a Giant
"The Yearning"
# 20
After the Goldrush
"Nature’s Stewards"

# 21
Ambulance Blues
"Coping Mechanisms”

# 22
Horseshoe Man
"Softball”

# 23
Country Home
"Rural Rejuvenation"

# 24
Prime of Life
"Bridging the Generational Divide"

# 25
Ride My Llama
"The Journey”

# 26
People in the Street
"Deep Cuts (of the music-video variety)”

# 27
Like a Hurricane
"Lightning in a Bottle"

# 28
Trans
"A Trans-formation”

# 29
Ohio
"It’s Enough to Make a Grown Man Cry”
# 30
Wonderin’
"At the Root of It All”

# 31
Prairie Wind
"Into the Mystic”

# 32
t-bone
"A Rebel With a Cause”

# 33
Wrecking Ball
“Closure”
# 34
Truth Be Known
“Hidden Treasure”
# 35
Two Old Friends
"Faith Focus”
# 36
Mideast Vacation
"A Clash of Worlds"

# 37
Mansion on the Hill
"Shedding the Baggage”
# 38
Tonight’s the Night
"Facing the Music”

# 39
Campaigner
"A Pardon of the Partisan Kind”

# 40
Who’s Gonna Stand Up
"We Don’t Want No Stinkin’ Pipeline"
# 41
Sugar Mountain
"Not Ad-verse to a Little Sugar Coating"
# 42
On the Beach
"Beach Front Property"
# 43
Don’t Be Denied
"Staying the Musical Course”
# 44
Pardon My Heart
"A Heart Transplant”
# 45
Losing End
"Alright Wilson, Pick It!”
# 46
Cowgirl in the Sand
"Stretching It Out Some"
# 47
Old King
"Dog Story"
# 48
Out on the Weekend
"Bouv”
# 49
Peaceful Valley Boulevard
"The Great North American Narrative”
# 50
Cortez the Killer
"Just About Out of Superlatives”

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Forever Young # 48: "Just About Out of Superlatives"

Song:  Cortez the Killer
Album:  Zuma
Released:  August, 1975

Alas, I’ve reached the end of the road in this ‘Forever Young’ year, 2014, which included 48 blog entries centered on the music of Neil Young.   Along with the 2 ‘Gem Music Video of the Week’ (GMVW) entries from ~ six years ago (GMVW # 32, August, 2008 and GMVW # 67, April, 2009), that’s an even 50, which is the same as what I did for the Rolling Stones in 2012 (the ‘Stepping Stones’).  It’s been fun.  It’s been real.  But there is a lot of other music out there, much of which has been set aside for an entire calendar year (a pretty substantial chunk of time to dedicate to one artist if you think about it).  And so it is time to move on.

I have dug deep into the music of Neil Young this year, which was the intention from the get-go.  This musician is one of a handful who I have determined to be on my top shelf, and therefore deserving of a broader connection in these weekly musings than my earlier writings.  The original GMVW series (100 in all) focused on a different musician practically every week.  Those entries were centered on the linked videos (hence the title of the series) - much of which was concert footage, some MTV-like - and the thoughts those videos stirred up in me.  The intent with ‘Stepping Stones’ and ‘Forever Young’ (and hopefully future series centered on the Who, Bob Dylan, and the Beatles) is to flesh out my broader interest in these musicians through all of their albums, allowing me to build new thoughts, old memories and deeper insights upon.  I hope that has come across in the writing. 

So, what did I learn from this ‘Forever Young’ year?  Well, I’m more convinced than ever that Neil Young marches to the beat of his own drum more than any other musician I enjoy listening to.  This has led to an amazing diversity of sound.  For example, other than the vocals, it can be difficult to connect the guy who penned Speakin’ Out with the guy who penned Walks Like a Giant or Transformer Man or People on the Street or Powderfinger or the entirety of ‘Greendale’.  Yes, this singer/songwriter is all over the map.  I don’t believe he has ever been swayed by the critics or his fans.  In many respects, this is what defines an artist.  Rock and Roll needed this attitude to help it climb to the pinnacle of respectability:  It needed Neil Young even more than Young needed it.

In 1986, Rolling Stone Magazine aired a 20th anniversary documentary on prime time television.  It was an excellent program with a number of high profile musicians interviewed for it.  This was the heart of the 80s and many of the interviewees, including Mick Jagger and David Bowie had the period-piece fluffed up hairdos.  Neil Young on the other hand (as well as Jerry Garcia) made no fashion statement.  He didn’t even attempt to look presentable, and was actually slouched his whole interview, with a ragged, shaggy look about him.  But his comments were clear, concise and riveting.  I was drawn in.  I’m sure a number of future grunge-band leaders were too.

Neil Young is a very personal writer, but I believe this is the case because he feels his life relates to all of us and that it’s his duty to make as strong of a connection as he can with the gifts he has been given.  The ‘ditch trilogy’ of the early 70s (‘Time Fades Away’, ‘On the Beach’, and ‘Tonight’s the Night’) alone bears this out.  There is dissolution and despair on the music of these albums that is palpable.  But somehow, it’s all reassuring because it’s all so human.  This had me coming back for more to that period throughout the year despite the downcast mood and subject matter.  The fact that Neil Young stuck with this mood (or was stuck with it) for a good half decade is impressive; he lay prone on that psychiatrist couch until there was nothing left to say.  He faced his (and his 60’s contemporaries) demons head on, so that by the time ‘Zuma’ was released, there was a natural feeling of uplift.  Any premature attempt to do this would have likely sounded contrived.   Thankfully, we will never know that sound.

Neil Young has done a lot of great work with a lot of great musicians, but I believe it’s his band Crazy Horse that has emboldened him most.  Perhaps it’s because 2014 was the Chinese Year of the Horse, but I found myself turning to the Crazy Horse albums when I needed a bit of creative spark in my writing from time to time.  That simple, driving, relentless beat of this faithful band can be hypnotizing.  I’ve had the opportunity to see it live on a handful of occasions (most recently, 2013) and this year I finally dedicated time to listen to their deeper cuts.  I was not disappointed.  Heck, T-Bone was the centerpiece to one of my ‘Forever Young’ blog entries.  That alone should be testament enough to my admiration.

A few songs in Young’s catalog hit me like a ton of bricks this year.  There was Lookout Joe off of ‘Tonight’s the Night’, and Truth Be Known off of ‘Mirror Ball’ and Love and War off ‘Le Noise’ and the title track off ‘Time Fades Away’ and Barstool Blues off ‘Zuma’.  These songs stared out at me in the past, but they entered another level of my consciousness this time around.  I got the same boost with a number of Rolling Stones songs several years ago.  It’s a bonus to this intense process I suppose.  These gems now stand hand in hand with other Neil Young songs that were already masterpieces to me, including Ordinary People, Harvest, Walks Like a Giant, Long May You Run, Powderfinger, Someday, Wrecking Ball, Horseshoe Man, Razor Love and Change Your Mind.  When you feel a song to the degree that I have felt these songs, you know there is something special there.  For that feeling alone, which hit me blindside on these handfuls of occasions, I believe this process was worthwhile.

Where Neil Young seems to take his biggest risks are in his experiments with sound.  'Trans', 'Le Noise', 'A Letter Home' and ‘Landing on Water’ are all pivotal albums in this regard.  I tried explaining what I heard in this music, but occasionally it got difficult.  The echoing sounds of 'Le Noise' in particular brought me somewhere I could not put my finger on despite repeated listening.  I kept on thinking of Howard Blake’s Walking in the Air (from The Snowman), but the feelings I get from that are just as fascinatingly mysterious.  Several times I felt close to interpreting the feeling, but then it would wisp away in a flash.  As Iris Dement once sang, sometimes you just got to let the mystery be.  Most of the time however, I think I got what I was looking for in word. 

I found this year a bit more challenging than when I wrote about the Rolling Stones.  When I wrote about the Stones, I had a chance to bounce around some, seeing as my interest is almost equally divided among its members, present and past.  For the most part, Neil Young is known as a solo artist, despite the fact that he has accompaniment on most of his songs, and so topics and themes took a bit more effort as the entries mounted.  Perhaps I should have stopped at 30, although I believe I had a pretty good stretch there near the end that could have been missed otherwise.  Anyhow, this will also be a challenge for Bob Dylan, but that’s a subject for another time.

Neil Young has done an amazing job of avoiding hubris, which has brought down many in his field.  This is the key reason for his longevity.  Young was 34 when he toured ‘Rust Never Sleeps’.  In that footage, he looks as if he is 24.  He’s svelte and wiry.  By that time, many of his generation were looking their age and then some.  Neil Young is no angel and has consumed his fair share of substances.  But everyone who looks younger than their years has some secret.  For Young, it’s his ability to sidestep pride.  As is the case with Leonard Cohen, who just released a fantastic album at the age of 80, Neil Young could be producing quality for many years to come for this very reason. 

A general rule of mine with these blog writings has been to stay on the positive side of the ledger, but with Neil Young and his passion for singing about hot ticket items like contrived wars and global warming and racism and inequity, there was no avoiding my dipping into these issues.  It was somewhat easy to do, since I sympathize with most of Young’s protestations, but it still broke me out of the mold.  But like I said to my Mom a month or so ago, you can’t ignore what’s gnawing at you.  It’s got to come out.  So I wrote on these topics here and there.  Considering the central figure, it would have been a sham not to have.

A few potential entries will be left on the vine.  I flirted with songs like Stringman and Touch the Night and My Boy and Hitchhiker and Philadelphia and The Loner, but nothing beyond a few sentences ever materialized out of these.  They are all magnificent songs, as are so many others in Neil Young’s catalog that I had to pass on.  However, I believe the 50 songs chosen represent the broad swath of what this musician brings to the table. 

I’d like to thank everyone for their support, particularly my wife Nancy and my brother Fred.  Laying ones thoughts out on the line can on occasion feel as if you are out on a limb, so the support is much appreciated.  I’d also like to thank my good friend Jeff Strause, who gives me insights to the times that preceded my own formative years (late 60s and early 70s) as well as to what is happening now (I don’t  know of anyone that comes close to having attended the number of shows Jeff has in his lifetime).   And also Chris Brady, who sent me some great live Neil Young music, which definitely helped to stimulate ideas throughout the year. 

And finally, I’d like to make another nod to Bob Bouvier, who opened the door to my deeper interest and insights into Neil Young’s music, and to whom this ‘Forever Young’ series is dedicated to.  Cortez the Killer is chosen as the final entry with Bouv in mind (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-b76yiqO1E )   .  Back in 1986, when I attended my first Crazy Horse show with Bob, it was this song that captivated us the most.  The self-dubbed “3rd best Garage Band in the World”, were immersed in piped-in ‘fog’, and Young came “dancing” out of it.  One could almost picture Cortez making his way on to North American soil for the first time, Montezuma awaiting, not yet realizing the implications.  Young blends history, myth and love into this song (“and I know she’s living there, and she loves me to this day”).   This can be said for many other songs in his catalog, (i.e. Southern Man, a story about lynching, which includes “Lily Belle, your hair is golden brown”).  It’s never simple with Neil Young.   There are always multiple levels and numerous possible entry points. 

I’ll close with the ending set of lyrics in Thrasher:

But me I'm not stopping there,
Got my own row left to hoe
Just another line in the field of time
When the thrashers comes, I'll be stuck in the sun
Like the dinosaurs in shrines
But I'll know the time has come
To give what's mine.

Neil Young has always set the bar high for himself, which comes through in these lyrics.  I hope that I followed his lead this year with these ‘Forever Young’ blog entries.

-          Pete