Jul 292009
 

You were expecting Wham?

This afternoon I found myself back in the dentist’s chair. Part of my four-session, four-figure, root canal journey. It’s not all that pleasant to have the inside of a tooth filed clean. Even when it has been heavily sedated.

But the whole situation was made worse – much, much worse by the soundtrack. Dentists of course always want nice relaxing background music. Maybe some warbling [cough] r’n’b, or classic hits to hum along to as they drill and fill. Maybe a little Erik Satie. So what was the sound that had me begging for mercy in the dentist’s chair? Right now it is July. I am in Australia. The dental music of choice? It was “Last Christmas,” by Wham. Yes, during root canal.

The question is, have Town Hall members had similar inappropriate music moments?

(Please note: I spared you a link to any video connected to any of the above.)

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May 232009
 

Time to strap on a dynamite belt?

In a recent thread Townsman Chickenfrank made the following comment that is worthy of bringing to The Main Stage, as part of our occasional Rock Crimes series. His comment may still qualify as May’s Comment of the Month (I’ll have to consult with the judges), but until then, this is too important a topic not to bring to the fore.

Chick wrote:

CNN has an article about classic rock bands reuniting and recording new material together. The photo of Journey, Styx, and REO Speedwagon all together seems akin to Hitler, Pol Pot, and Idi Amin miraculously being together simultaneously. If I were to strap on a dynamite belt and eliminate either of those trios, would the country celebrate a 3-day weekend for me?

Stay tuned for new songs by Chicago and Earth Wind and Fire together. I assume Tower of Power was busy that weekend.

Chick’s question raises a number of other questions that may be worth discussing here:

  • If his dynamite belt could eliminate only two out of three of these heinous bands, which one would (to be clear I ask would not should) survive?
  • In the Steven Speilberg film of this historic event, who would play our real-life hero, Chickenfrank?
  • Which band is Mussolini and who in the rock industry is Chamberlain?

I’m sure you’ve got thoughts of your own on these questions as well as others. On this Memorial Day weekend, I think it’s only right that you share. Thanks!

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May 052009
 

Roxy Music‘s “Love Is the Drug” was tough, stylish treat on the radio when I was growing up. It wasn’t a smash hit on Philadelphia radio in my middle school days, but it would come on now and then and fit right in with the ’70s soul and downbeat-heavy rock that I sought out as hormones raged. Later in the ’70s, I’d dig rare FM radio spins of songs like “Over You” and “Manifesto.” As bad as commercial rock radio was becoming by that time, playlists still allowed for some “play,” some experimentation. Those chart-scraping Roxy Music singles occupied a similar place in my heart with other slightly dark, soulful not-quite-hits, like J. Geils Band‘s “One Last Kiss.” Some day I need to gather all those last-gasp, blue-eyed rockin’ soul numbers of the late-70s on one mix CD.


I never got around to buying an actual Roxy Music album (or a J. Geils Band album, for that matter) while in high school. The little bit of Roxy Music I was familiar with had qualities I liked, but it required more patience than I could muster. Compared with David Bowie‘s “Young Americans,” a TSOP-influenced song that continues to excite me in an immediately gratifying way from beginning to end to this day, the super-cool “Love Is the Drug” was much more…cool. And I wasn’t that cool.

It wasn’t until freshman year in college that I first heard the mind-blowing early Roxy Music I’d only read about in magazines and books. An older friend and mentor plied me with some of the tools for deeper understanding before throwing the band’s first album on his Bang & Olufsen turntable and and CRANKING UP his super-hi-fi system. I must have been grinning and rocking back like Danny DeVito’s Martini from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
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Aug 162008
 

I came across this Holy Grail – for me – of a YouTube clip today.

I’ve long been in awe of the elements that went into the funky space-rock of “Amazona”, from my favorite Roxy Music album, Stranded: Manzanera’s cool rhythm guitar part and otherwordly (especially on the album) solo, Ferry’s humorous delivery, and Paul Thompson’s rock-solid drumming, in particular. The song, like the best of early Roxy Music, both tickles my sense of psychic unrest and makes me laugh thanks to a tongue-in-cheek tone that extends from Ferry’s lyrics and vocals through the musical arrangements. (Phil Manzanera, on the first few Roxy Music albums and his appearances on Eno albums, is rock’s funniest guitarist.)

The first song I remember hearing by Roxy Music was “Love Is the Drug”, which was a hit just as I was entering my teen years and getting a sense of what needs I might have that this drug might fulfill. That song was easy to like thanks to its tight, funky/reggae groove and sly vocals. I may not have heard much by Roxy Music for the next few years, excepting a minor hit single from one of those later ’70s albums like Manifesto, until freshman year in college, when a friend/”spiritual advisor” turned me on to the first Roxy Music album. That album went down real easy – and still does to this day.

This was just around the time, I’m sorry to say, that I finally got to sample that love drug, if you know what I’m saying. By the end of freshman year I was in love with an actual girl that I could, you know, grope. Powerful stuff, for a first-time user. I hope you’ve all had a chance to experience this drug in multiple formulations.
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Jul 012008
 

Implicated

From The Lodgers

On my arrival I was greeted by four characters. Stephen White, who had just been proclaimed Master Of The Sticks by a pirate station in Cumbria run by a retired colonel. Miss Dee C. Lee who I espied on a clifftop alone with nothing but her sweet voice singing out into the clouds and a large parrott on her shoulder. Paul Weller, who sat naked in front of the sea on a deckchair shouting, “stop I say, hold thyselves, my parts freeze,” as the waves rushed past him, and Master Michael Talbot by a bonfire, splendidly clad in a lame blanket and hard at work on one of Stravinsky’s unfinished works he had come across in a disused priory.

Remember The Cappuccino Kid, that mysterious liner note writer for releases by The Style Council? Nobody knew who exactly The Cappuccino Kid was, but many speculated!

Not ringing a bell yet? Perhaps the following passage from Our Favourite Shop will jog your memory:

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May 042008
 

What is it that allows me to like Bryan Ferry‘s unleashed solo side almost as much as I do Roxy Music? And that would be a lot. Compared with my general anti-camp stance on rock, my longtime enjoyment of Roxy Music and solo Bryan Ferry (up to a point – his solo albums past the band’s breakup circa 1982 are of no interest to me – and maybe this is significant) surprises me and makes me question myself.

Here’s a song and performance that encapsulates much of what I love about Roxy Music: The Power and Glory of Rock, the introspection, the self-effacing humor, the strong rhythm section…

The clip also features Ferry wearing clothes and a mustache that I have found off putting on artists like Bowie and that Sparks guy. Why don’t I simply want to give this guy a wedgie and possibly turn my ears off to his supposedly great music, as I’ve done with some of his contemporaries?

  • Did the work of early Roxy Music buy him (and what the band would become) a free pass?
  • Is it the fact that he seems to have a sense of humor about his persona?
  • Is it the fact that the rhythm section is both tough and fluid?

In short, why do I dig Ferry but recoil at similar impulses in the music and performance of David Bowie and other ’70s camp-rockers?

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