Jeff Beck. Jimmy Page. John Bonham. Noel Redding. Nicky Hopkins. Stellar rock names who would have been a million-dollar band back in 1969-1970. You’d think that an album featuring all these excellent musicians would be a must-have classic for the ages, right? Not this time, bunkie.
Fresh as a daisy?
I don’t know why, but recently it occurred to me that Brian Eno may give off the most pleasant odor of all rock ‘n rollers. Although early photos of him find him in poses worthy of Channel and other great perfumiers, I doubt early Eno smelled anywhere near as fresh as I imagine modern-day Eno to smell. By some accounts I’ve read young Eno was living on the edge. Despite a likely liberal use of artificial fragrances that would rival those of the protagonist of Huysmans‘ Against Nature, he probably reeked of smoke and groupies’ sweat.
It’s the early ’80s Eno, the ambient Eno, the Talking Heads‘ producer Eno, who I imagine developing advanced bathing techniques, extracting herbal oils, and even modifying his diet to ensure an around-the-clock, seasonal blend of pleasing, understated aromas. A morning ritual of, say, a rosewater bath, a dab of rosemary oil behind each earlobe, and a light brunch of fennel and braised squid before heading off to a day’s recording with U2 may have added as much to the magic of the band’s sessions for The Unforgettable Fire as Eno’s Oblique Strategies deck of cards. Eno probably kept a pot of chamomile tea steeping at all times to help drown out the more, uh, pungent odor of engineer/coproducer Daniel Lanois.
I bet Chris Martin of Coldplay appreciates the ambient scents that Eno brings to a session. A dank, musty studio is no place for Gwyneth and the kids to drop in. The girls love it when Eno smells like a chai latte.
So, I’ve made my case for Brian Eno as the Rocker Most Likely to Give Off a Pleasant Odor. Can you think of any other rocker who may smell even more delightful?
Stick with the above clip. Beside reminding you of an SCTV skit that was never produced, does it remind you of one of our previous posts in our ongoing series of Rock’s Unfulfilled Fashion Ideas? Check it out: I think this idea had been fulfilled after all.
That's cheating, man!
These days politics pretty much disgust and depress me. Growing up I wanted to be Mayor of Philadelphia. No joke. I read books about my hometown mayor, Frank Rizzo; Chicago’s Richard Daley; and those corrupt big city mayors from earlier in the 20th century. I wanted to learn from their successes and mistakes. I wanted to wield power for the good of The People, shape civic pride, throw out the first pitch on Opening Day… I wanted to shake hands with strangers and kiss babies… I wanted to call out Public Enemies for my political gain now and then. Most of my priorities were in the right place. At some point in the mid-’80s, the dream ended along with so many other idealistic notions from my youth. The ’80s were a dream assassin, man.
As politics revealed itself as a world too cynical for even me, Ronald Reagan did usher in one fascinating trend: Presidential Hair. Harkening back to the idealistic coif of JFK, Reagan’s ‘do set the tone for future political campaigns. The humble strands of hair remaining on a candidate like Paul Tsongas would forever be at a disadvantage. The team of scientists and architects behind Joe Biden‘s hairline would be only Vice Presidential in reach. Presidential Hair does not ensure a seat in the Oval Office, but since the triumph of Reagan, each election sets a new crop of hair-hoppers across American campaign trails.
If we ever get around to conducting Townsman alexmagic‘s long-promised election of an international President of Rock, we should prepare for the role that Presidential Hair might play in the race. Simply put: What rockers have the most Presidential Hair? How do we define Presidential Hair as it applies to our future President of Rock? Is Elvis the JFK of Rock Presidential Hair? A particular era in Beatles hair styling?
Chances are the book has yet to be written, but it won’t hurt us to see if we can’t take a peak at the outline.
“Cool” is a relative term. If you have any doubt look no further than any of the “style” posts here at Rock Town Hall—or better yet, see if you can’t find pictures of some of the dorks who write those posts.
Who are we to police rock ‘n roll cool, you might ask, what makes them arbiters of cool?
Within the Halls of Rock we have developed some common ground on what definitely isn’t cool in rock ‘n roll. The following video, submitted by Townsman cherguevara, features many elements of fashion, stage presence, and whatnot that pathetically self-appointed guardians of cool like yours truly spend inordinate and unhealthy amounts of time chuckling over. In the spirit of one of our Nice series of posts, I ask you to view this video and avoid the temptation to shoot ducks in a barrel. Rather, see if you can’t identify examples of relative cool.
Please dig deep; don’t take the easy route and identify obviously cool instrumental fills or laud a musician’s past glories. In all fairness you may want to turn the volume off.
We will, we will not rock you
A few months ago, I was thrifting for a new/old pair of jeans, and I came across a pair in the right size and the right brand (which is to say: Levi’s first, Lee second, and — maybe, in a pinch — Wrangler third). Anyhow, I slapped down a fin and walked out with a decent pair of jeans in pretty good shape. A good day of shopping — or so I thought.
I got home, and to my great dismay, I realized I’d not paid sufficient attention to the crotch area of my new blue jeans — they were “button-fly” monstrosities.
Let me just rant for second. I’m a marketing guy by trade, and I understand how style can sometimes trump substance when it comes to consumer goods. But — goddammit — the zipper was invented a hundred freaking years ago for a reason. And that reason was to put the idiotic, inconvenient “button fly” out to pasture. The button fly is a thing that plainly sucks compared to the modern solution that replaced it. If I have a zipper, and I need to spring a leak, I just reach down, tug on the metal handle, and — hey now! — there are the necessary hoseworks. No fumbling with buttons, undoing belts, going half-dropped in the trou department — the zipper is just there, and it’s just plain better.
Today, I came to the bottom of my clean laundry. As always happens on such days, I was forced to don the dreaded 501 button-fly jeans. I endured them all day. But this evening — because I’m a total nerd — as I stumbled into the baffroom to drain the lizard, I began contemplating the possible Rock analogs for the button-fly jean and its sensible, more modern, clearly improved zipper counterpart.
I’m a frequent traditionalist when it comes to the Rock. But have there been bands or artists or genres, or perhaps tools of the trade, that saw clear and sensible improvement when they were supplanted by a better, more modern version or replacement? That’s the question I have. Sometimes progress is good, surely.
Now I feel bad that I called EPG out on my silly Beatles question earlier today. This is the issue on which I most eagerly seek his insight.
That goes for the rest of you, too. As always, I look forward to your responses.
HVB
Slowhand-alls
As far as my research has taken me, no rocker has looked convincingly cool while sporting overalls. As hard as Eric Clapton tries he still looks like a weary truck driver after an 18-hour shift. Perhaps it’s the smack and not the clothes. You’d think with all those buttons and clasps, the average guitarist would be afraid of scratching the back of his SG or Strat. But beyond damaging your equipment, one’s maturity is also taking a hit. This is a rock and roll stage not Romper Room. The video below featuring the long and forgotten brothers Tom and David Farmer (yes Farmer) of the band Blackfoot Sue are totally missing the esthetic of the glam rock sound they are aping. The visuals are jarring.
Of course, I have not discounted the ’80s. What with Dexy’s Midnight Runners and their Too-Rye-Ay-ing up and down a desolate street looking like they haven’t showered in days for the “Come On Eileen” video. I’ll give them a pass since it appears this was just a phase. Plus the music sort of matches the look.
So does that mean, the “overall Look” is acceptable only when a fiddle and banjo are within reach?
