Feb 082008
 

I’ve been everywhere, man.

At the risk of having this large chunk of rock stride the pond and pummel me with his Flying V, I can’t help but think of Chris Spedding as “The Forest Gump of Rock.”

It seems unflattering, but I really don’t intend it that way. I’m not thinking of him as a borderline short-busser with high-water slacks. I’m thinking of him as a dude who has participated in an AMAZING amount of rock history and yet, other than weirdos like us, he’s fairly unknown. (At least in the US of A.)

“It will be a cold day in hell before you get me to work with Zwol!”

Chris Spedding, “Motorbikin'”

I first read his name in college as I became enamored with Brian Eno’s Here Come the Warm Jets and saw his name on the back as playing on “Needle in the Camel’s Eye” and the “Paw Paw Negro Blow Torch”. I had no idea then and not much more of one until recently that this guy has done a wee bit more than that.

Early on Spedding, with his band Battered Ornaments, played THE Hyde Park concert in 1969 that featured the debut of the Brian Jones-less Rolling Stones. Bridge that with being the producer on The Sex Pistols demos and you start to get an idea of the breadth of experience here.

He has worked with so many amazing people that I’ll only list one for each letter of the alphabet (except x, y & z): Laurie Anderson, Ginger Baker, John Cale, Donovan, Drifters, David Essex, Bryan Ferry, Art Garfunkle, Nicky Hopkins, Kris Ife, Elton John, Dave Kubinec (featuring fifth Rutle Ollie Halsall), John Lodge, Paul McCartney, Harry Nilsson, Gilbert O’Sullivan, Pretenders, Dee Dee Ramone, Dusty Springfield, Johnny Thunders, Vibrators, Tom Waits.

His story is pretty damn cool and there’s some great stuff on his website chrisspedding.com and a 2006 biography, aptly titled Reluctant Guitar Hero, so I won’t belabor it. Rather I’ll just let the man speak for himself as he responds to our questions.

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Jan 142008
 

It’s tougher than it seems to make a common, bad song eternally annoying. Try it sometime. It only seems easy because Tom Cruise has managed this feat in countless Hollywood films.

In charging Tom Cruise with Rock Crimes for permanently defiling more downtrodden songs than any actor in history, we’re not passing judgment on his films, his beliefs, or his personal life. We won’t even poke fun at all the ditches in which his leading ladies have had to stand while sidling up to him.

There’s gonna be no dancing

Likewise, we’re not going to pass judgment on the songs themselves. At least one of these songs is actually of high caliber. Although Cruise typically preyed on weaker material, he was capable of bringing down classier numbers.

Here’s a song that sucks in what’s actually a good film. This song is so bad and emblematic of its time that it would be remembered as a stone-cold turd without Cruise’s involvement. However, his pool-cue moves denigrate this song beyond all hopes of simply being forgotten among a brothel full of Clapton’s ’80s skanks.

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Aug 152007
 


Despite any feelings you might have about the artist in the above video and the quality of his performance, which I’ll acknowledge is only mediocre, check out what happens as the YouTube clock hits 1:40 and counting down. You might have a similar reaction as the woman in the following, very short clip:

Paul Shaffer can have that effect on people.

ProTools is soon to launch a “sound dehancer” plug-in called InstaSuck. Using InstaSuck, Late Night With David Letterman band leader Shaffer can be dialed up for any band’s performance, and even the most stirring performance will be brought down a few notches. Since moving his Look from lovable wiseacre who was born to play Artie Fufkin to Liberace in sausage casing, Shaffer’s campy gesticulations and overbitten keyboard runs have risen to the level of Rock Crimes.
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Apr 092007
 

Do we try over spilt milk?

The last thing I want to do is make this into a pile-on session on the pride of the American ’80s underground, REM. If you’ll recall, some Townspeople already had the opportunity to do this when the band we inducted into the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame some weeks ago.

We are not here to indict the recording career of REM, Mike Mills’ shocking switch to the Nudie suit and unkempt hair Look, or even Michael Stipe’s overall Look portfolio. Today, there’s but one Rock Crime for which REM must answer: the video for “Losing My Religion”. Love the song itself or hate it – and surely there are many on each side of that fence – it is solely the 1991 MTV Music Awards‘ Best Video of the Year, directed by Tarsem Singh, that is accused of high crimes against rock.

If you were anywhere near a tv in the early ’90s, surely you’re all-too-familiar with this video. There’s the religious imagery and obvious hints at the framing of famous photographers’ works as well as the works of Caravaggio. There’s tho whole Soviet poster art/salt of the earth imagery: large-nosed, honest folk with stubble and somber faces, looking off into the distance or, briefly, directly at you, the viewer of these important messages from a singer who’d already made a career of mumbling nonsensical lyrics to cover for his near-crippling introversion. Jeez, does anyone look like they’re having a good time in this video?
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