Aug 262012
 

I read that Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon, died on Saturday. In celebration of his feat, an event I remember watching in the middle of the night with my family in some hotel room in Ocean City, New Jersey and then falling out of the top bunk in my sleep later that night, let’s have a Last Man Standing for songs specifically about travel to the moon (or at least into space, where the traveler will at least pass the moon). The song can’t simply be about the moon; someone’s got to be going there, living there, what have you.

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Aug 222012
 

On the way to the Phils game last night (don’t get me started) we were listening to the classic rock channel. My wife turned to me and said “Rock is dead.”

Although I nodded silently, it struck me how heavy and huge a pronouncement this was. And, I’m sad to say, pretty true.

I know I’m out of it, but I do try to keep up with a lot of music the youngin’s are listening to these days—mostly through my own kids. They’re pretty much up on a lot of stuff—but nothing is what I’d call Rock with a capital R.

I know it’s a broad term—and there are some throwback bands doing all sorts of rock derivatives. I, for instance, like what small amount I’ve heard from The Hentchmen—but they are throwback garage rock.

No, what I’m talking about is Power-and-Glory Rock. Anyone (besides some stuff I’ve heard from Jack White) doing this sorta thing nowadays?

Or is my wife correct? Is Rock dead?

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Aug 082012
 

Yesterday’s death of composer Marvin Hamlisch reminded me of one of the most annoying performances I’ve ever witnessed. Hamlisch, as you may have been reminded in reading about his life, adapted Scott Joplin‘s music for the fine Robert Redford-Paul Newman film The Sting. It wasn’t the memory of an annoying performance by Hamlisch or any other professional musician that has haunted me over the last 24 hours but a 2-hour performance of the song on the piano in our living room by a 7-year-old boy.

This was years ago. We had friends over for dinner. Our oldest son, who was also in first or second grade, had been taking piano lessons, Like any firstborn, he pleased his parents with painstaking renditions of the simplest 8-bar songs. He played something in the presence of our friends. They made the appropriate fuss over his performance. Then their son sat down to display his chops. This cherubic little boy banged out a perfect version of “The Entertainer.” We were dazzled and heaped on deserved praise. He played the song again, and we were delighted by his wind-up doll dedication. A few renditions later my ear-to-ear grin turned to horror. He kept playing “The Entertainer,” not pausing between takes, not varying his tempo or attack. It went on for a solid 2 hours as we tried to continue our dinner party. This became the most annoying performance I’d ever witnessed, topping (“bottoming?”) the self-indulgent preschooler behavior of Victoria Williams at a small club in Philadelphia in the mid-1990s and any other annoying concert I’ve seen since. More annoying than the time I saw New Order and the drummer did nothing but occasionally play a swishy hi-hat over programmed drum beats when he wasn’t up from his kit, literally standing directly behind the woman on keyboards with his arms wrapped around her front, placing her index fingers on the appropriate keys for the band’s simplistic keyboard parts.

To be fair, this young boy’s chops were astounding for such a tender age. To this day I’ve got nothing against this cool young man and son of great parents. However, 120 minutes of “The Entertainer” was 117 minutes too much of a good thing.

What’s the most annoying performance you’ve ever seen?

I look forward to your responses.

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Jul 032012
 

Has there ever been a more musical television law enforcement agent than Sheriff Andy Taylor, the character Andy Griffith, who died today at 86, played on the television series that bore his own name? This may not be the best Griffith performance on the show (there are many to be found), but in honor of his death I thought I should feature him singing lead.

Sheriff Taylor might have helped the cast of Cop Rock.

Continue reading »

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Jun 072012
 

I just learned that Bob Welch committed suicide.

For all the stupid rock trivia stuff I’ve taken the time to know, I know nothing about Bob Welch. As a kid I was dazzled by “Sentimental Lady.” I still am. Both versions: his solo hit and his earlier take on the song when he was still a member of Fleetwood Mac.

I know nothing about Bob Welch. He never looked cool, not even when it wasn’t unnecessarily uncool to wear a pink, scoop-neck shirt, a beret, smokey oversize shades, and a scarf, but “Sentimental Lady” was magic. There’s a sense of resignation and obsession in that song that’s hard to beat.

I’ve heard a few other songs by Welch, including “Ebony Eyes,” his second hit song from his brief moment in the sun. I don’t recall liking anything else I’ve heard by him, but I love “Sentimental Lady.” Both versions.

I have no idea why Welch committed suicide, but it’s a damn shame. Anyone who’s ever done anything creative wishes they could do one thing as well as Welch did when he wrote and sang “Sentimental Lady.” When I was trying to write my “Sentimental Lady,” my one masterpiece (who am I kidding, I still am), I used to think it would give me strength, get me through the worst times in life. Probably trying to chase that dream is what gives me strength. Maybe peaking doesn’t last forever.

RIP, Bob Welch. You wrote one more excellent song than most of us will ever write.

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