Part Two

Out Demons Out!

THE SECRET MUSEUM

1969: The Beginning of the End of the Beginning of the End of ...



Michael Mooney wrote:

The “official” year in music goes something like this:

Elvis hits his “comeback” stride with the Memphis Sessions, Led Zep I is released, Beatles play on the roof of Apple Records, Tommy is released, John and Yoko conduct their “bed-in”, Brian Jones dies, Woodstock happens, Abbey Road is released, John gives back his MBE, Altamont happens, Sixties end.

I believe the Sixties ended between April 4 and June 6, 1968. By the following year, the music charts were in transition- awash in sickly nostalgia, half-baked social commentary, frustration, wishful thinking and Creedence. What blended seamlessly in 1967 appears factionalized by ’69. Here’s the Billboard Top 40 singles for 1969:

1. Aquarius—Fifth Dimension
2. Sugar, Sugar—Archies
3. I Can't Get Next To You—Temptations
4. Honky Tonk Women—Rolling Stones
5. Build Me Up Buttercup—Foundations
6. Dizzy—Tommy Roe
7. Hot Fun In The Summertime—Sly and The Family Stone
8. I'll Never Fall In Love Again—Tom Jones
9. Everyday People—Sly and The Family Stone
10. Get Together—Youngbloods
11. One—Three Dog Night
12. Crystal Blue Persuasion—Tommy James and The Shondells
13. Hair—Cowsills
14. Too Busy Thinking About My Baby—Marvin Gaye
15. Love Theme From Romeo And Juliet—Henry Mancini and His Orchestra
16. Crimson And Clover—Tommy James and The Shondells
17. Grazin' In The Grass—Friends Of Distinction
18. Suspicious Minds—Elvis Presley
19. Proud Mary—Creedence Clearwater Revival
20. What Does It Take (To Win Your Love)—Jr. Walker and The All Stars
21. It's Your Thing—Isley Brothers
22. Sweet Caroline—Neil Diamond
23. Jean—Oliver
24. Bad Moon Rising—Creedence Clearwater Revival
25. Get Back—The Beatles
26. In The Year 2525—Zager and Evans
27. Spinning Wheel—Blood, Sweat and Tears
28. Baby, I Love You—Andy Kim
29. Going In Circles—Friends Of Distinction
30. Hurt So Bad—Lettermen
31. Green River—Creedence Clearwater Revival
32. My Cherie Amour—Stevie Wonder
33. Easy To Be Hard—Three Dog Night
34. Baby It's You—Smith
35. In The Ghetto—Elvis Presley
36. A Boy Named Sue- Johnny Cash
37. Baby, Baby Don't Cry- Smokey Robinson and The Miracles
38. Only The Strong Survive- Jerry Butler
39. Time Of The Season- Zombies
40. Wedding Bell Blues- Fifth Dimension

Not bad, considering The Man was out to bust our music, but a helluva lot worse than, say, 1966. There is some well crafted Pop (Fifth Dimension, Friends Of Distinction, Tommy James, Lettermen, Zombies), Rock (Stones, Creedence) and Soul- including the initial stirrings of Funk (Isleys, Jerry Butler, Sly, Temps) mixed in with the Bubblegum (Andy Kim, Tommy Roe, Archies) and Pap (Oliver, Zager & Evans.) Still, it didn’t have to be this way. In the world of The Secret Museum, an alternate playlist of top 40 radio, circa 1969, would consist of something like this (listed alphabetically):

Acid Gallery- Dance ‘Round The Maypole
The Association- Goodbye Columbus
David Axelrod- A Little Girl Lost
Kevin Ayers- Girl On A Swing
Edgar Broughton Band- Out Demons Out
Dr. Strangely Strange- Frosty Mornings
Brigitte Bardot- Je Voudrais Perdre La Mémoire
Captain Beefheart- Old Fart At Play
Bubble Puppy- Hot Smoke & Sassafras
Can- Outside My Door
Dave Clark Five- Maze Of Love
Cowsills- Love American Style
Gal Costa- Meu Nom E Gal
Fleetwood Mac- The Green Manalishi
Free- Woman
Free Design- 2002- A Hit Song
Serge Gainsbourg- 69 Année Érotique
Gandalf- Can You Travel In The Dark Alone
Bobbie Gentry- Seasons Come, Seasons Go
Iron Butterfly- Filled with Fear
The Kinks- King Kong
Love- Always See Your Face
MC5- Ramblin’ Rose
Mott The Hoople- Rock & Roll Queen
The Move- Curly
Nazz- Take The Hand
New Colony Six- Come And Give Your Love To Me
Roger Nichols & The Small Circle Of Friends- The Drifter
The Open Mind- Magic Potion
Os Mutantes- Dia 36
Pink Floyd- Daybreak
The Pretty Things- what’s Good For The Goose
Procol Harum- A Salty Dog
Terry Reid- Superlungs My Supergirl
Catherine Ribeiro- La Solitude
The Stooges- 1969
The Troggs- Evil Woman
Turquoise- Mindless Child Of Motherhood
Caetano Veloso- Irene
Wendy and Bonnie- The Paisley Windowpane

Some of these artists were winding down their careers by 1969; some were just getting started. Half didn’t even release any singles that year. All, however, put out fine LPs in 1969 and are worthy of a listen, at the very least to see how they rate against The Archies. Jim and I shall be revealing the Unheard Music of 1969 on Saturday, June 20 at Taosound Tape & CD. If it’s anything like the last couple of weeks, where we learned a thing or two from local Rock Lifers (including the likes of Clement, Greenberg, MacLean, Reid, Romero, Torres and Yaravitz), this week’s session could be a scorcher.
-Michael Mooney
loftholdingswood.blogspot.com



Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

The splintering of Rock Music into numerous sub-categories was in full force by the end of '69. While folk-rock and acid rock had "flowered" between 1965 and 1967, it was 1969 that gave us the first big hit of jazz-rock via Miles Davis, Blood, Sweat & Tears and the Chicago Transit Authority. Blues-rock was almost over, as evidenced by the deaths of Cream, Blind Faith and John Mayall breaking up his Bluesbreakers (for a jazzier sound). The Band came out from behind Dylan's shadow and brought a resurgence of "back to the earth" style traditional/acoustic music that saw everyone from Crosby Steals the Cash to Bonnie & Delaney promoting the rootsier sound of American music. It seems like the musicians at that time were tired of just playing good old pop or rock music. Experimenting with longer song structures and not even wanting a top forty hit were the new requirements for being a successful band. Disaster was coming for those who enjoyed a good tight, three-minute song with memorable hooks and a great melody. The purity of Rock music as the counterculture’s artistic expression, musicians as the "modern day painters" of the late twentieth century was changing. Moneychangers in the temple like David Geffen had corrupted everything down to simply dollars and cents. If all that weren’t enough, the cold wind of Prog arsery would soon be upon us all.

-Jim Webb-webbjuice@comcast.net

Arthur Lee & Love

THE SECRET MUSEUM

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

Overt self-promotion:
The Secret Museum will be this week’s presenters at Taosound’s “Psychedelic Saturdaze” beginning at 5:30 on, um, Saturday, June 13 (Taosound: 314 Paseo del Pueblo Norte.) The first hour will feature a selection of Arthur Lee’s finer (and occasionally rarer) moments; the second is devoted to Forever Changes. There will be a Q & A period in between. Jim and I have already prepared the questions.
-Michael Mooney

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike –

What did you think of Michael Stuart-Ware's book Pegasus Carousel, detailing his time as Love's drummer during their "classic" 1966-69 period? The book varied wildly in my opinion between being a fascinating read into Love and the L.A. music scene circa 1967-68, and Ware reliving too many dull moments in his daily routine. He really takes leader Arthur Lee down a few pegs with various stories detailing Arthur's flakiness in canceling big money gigs at the drop of a hat, and his chronic / caustic put downs of other band members and fans. I think Ware was pissed off that everyone looked at Love as only being "Arthur Lee", and that the other guys didn't really matter regardless of how much they contributed to the songs.

Stuart-Ware seems to either think Love leader Arthur Lee’s talent and musical legacy will somehow be diminished by exposing a sarcastic, rude side to his personality or this is just a big payback for all of the drummers’ problems with Arthur. I’m not condoning any arrogant behavior by Arthur toward his band mates or fans, but it is obvious to me the drummer hasn’t gotten over the fact that he didn’t become rich and famous with Love. The drummer feels unappreciated (your kidding!), and thinks it was the collective strength of the musicians in the band that brought them to their peak.

After Love’s masterpiece Forever Changes was released in November1967 the band started to go though numerous personal changes. Drugs, specifically heroin and LSD, have been reported as a contributing major factor in the band becoming dysfunctional. Lee, guitarists John Echols, Ken Forssi and the other main songwriter in the band Bryan MacLean were all using drugs on a regular basis. Lee had an unusual arrangement with their record label Elektra where all royalties went to him, which also created a lot of tension within the band. Stuart-Ware writes about the ongoing financial issues, where they were promised money that never appeared. MacLean left in 1968 and Love was never really the same.

Love never became a big concert draw outside of California. They did some weekend tour dates in the rest of the country, but it was only in their hometown of Los Angeles or in San Francisco that they played regularly. A stable income from concerts would probably have helped the band weather some of their personal changes. Changing band members seemed almost routine for the big L.A. groups in 1967/68. Neil Young quit The Buffalo Springfield, Gene Clark had already left and David Crosby was fired from The Byrds in ’68. The rock scene was so new and continually changing that everyone thought their “next” lineup or group would be even bigger than what they were leaving (ultimately true for Crosby & Young). Big ambition coupled with big egos created a volatile music scene, and Love was no different than the rest of the aspiring groups of that era. Personality conflicts between members, poor management and drugs were three key areas’ that could help break a band apart, and Love had its share of all three.

I’m not knocking Michael Stuart-Ware’s ability as a drummer; I just think he needs to be more realistic about what made Love’s music so unique. It was always the songs that made Love special, and without song writers Arthur Lee and Bryan MacLean the band would never have been heard from. Arthur still wrote some great stuff after Michael left, all Stuart-Ware did was supposedly turn down Neil Diamond to drum on a summer tour of his. I did enjoy the book though, because The Pegasus Carousel gave us some interesting anecdotes about Love, and a musician’s view of the Los Angeles music scene in the mid to late sixties. I’m riding with Arthur though on the question of who was the driving force in creating such timeless and varied music for Love. Arthur wasn’t just an above average musician like the other members in Love; he was also an extremely talented songwriter. What made Arthur Lee great was his ability to meld different strands of folk, rock and rhythm n’ blues together into a new beautiful whole. Love’s enduring musical legacy will always be directly associated with him.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

Definitely a case of sour grapes on Michael Stuart’s part, though I don’t know if the Love story could have ended any differently. While Arthur Lee appears to have been fond of playing mind games on both his audience and band mates, it’s doubtful he was capable of playing the music game under any circumstances. Despite the remarkable beauty of his music, Arthur’s work is too full of idiosyncrasies to ever appeal to the mainstream. Still, Forever Changes transcends its time and place, and remains a benchmark Rock recording.
-Michael Mooney

mooney@taosnet.com

_______________________________________________________________
RAW POWER AT TAOSOUND:
Too bad! You missed it. About a dozen people showed up last Saturday for Peter Greenberg’s DJ set at Taosound, a whirlwind blitz of the finest 60s Garage Punk. Peter had the joint rocking with two hours of classic cuts (Seeds, ? & The Mysterians, Trashmen, Rivieras, Elevators, Moving Sidewalks, Sonics, Remains) along with mega-obscurities (Jolly Green Giants, Alarm Clocks, Bad Seeds), all prime examples of America’s Greatest Art Form. Those in attendance got a breathtaking refresher course in Rock 101: Greenberg is the Professor of the Blazing Decks; he’s the North Shore Shaman- dropping 7-inch Sound Neutrons over Paseo Norte every 2 minutes, 5 seconds in an awesome display of turntable pandemonium.
-Michael Mooney

Public Service Announcement

Lucinda Williams/ The Flatlanders

THE SECRET MUSEUM

June 1st / Paolo Soleri Amphitheater, Santa Fe

Jim Webb wrote:

The highlight of the evening was a superb seventeen song set uncorked by Texas natives Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock (a.k.a., The Flatlanders). There must be something in the water for Lubbock to have so many great singer/songwriters hail from that “flat” part of West Texas. Their first album together was recorded in 1972, and then it only took them another thirty years to get the follow up release finished. In between all three established solo careers, and tonight was one of their infrequent concert appearances.

Joe Ely, who is known as The Lord of The Highway due to his never ending tour schedule, is the real deal in working class authenticity. Jimmie Dale Gilmore sounds just like - no one, except Jimmie Dale Gilmore. His high, lonesome tenor I’m sure made any coyotes wandering down nearby arroyos feel at home. Butch Hancock was just in Santa Fe this past February for a solo show at Gig Performance Space, and you can also occasionally hear him when he accompanies over night raft trips on the Rio Grande River at Big Bend National Park in Texas. Together they take turns on lead vocals, and asking who the best songwriter is among them is like trying to pick mint chocolate chip ice cream over double chocolate chunk or rocky road.

The only knock on their solo careers is that each studio release always has two or three really good tunes, but the rest tend to be just average. What do they sing about? Their styles as writers are somewhat similar in that they all have a sharp eye for detail in making people’s daily lives and their relationships more important than anything else. They are a throw back to the classic country writers of the forties, fifties and sixties. Their song writing bloodlines run from Hank Williams to Willie Nelson, and special reverence is reserved for their departed guru - the legendary Townes Van Zandt. So far this was easily not only the set of the year, but as good an American roots music set I’ve heard since I saw Emmylou Harris in 2005. Being fifteen feet from their three mike stands didn’t hurt (no brag, just fact).

After playing tunes from each of The Flatlanders four cd’s Jimmie Dale Gilmore’s classic song Dallas was turned into a honky tonk rave-up and it ended their one hour set on a triumphant high note. They encored with Van Zandt’s White Freight – Liner and the nearly full Paolo Soleri crowd roared in appreciation.

Lucinda Williams and her band Buick 6 came out about twenty minutes later and went right to work playing selections from throughout her thirty year catalogue of music. She is one of our most gifted songwriters, as well as a powerful singer. The only complaint I have in her first forty minutes was that it was loaded with her more introspective material. Coming right after The Flatlanders spirited set, it made these songs seem even quieter than usual.

There are two different sides to Lucinda’s writing, the smoldering poet, and her razor sharp rockers that could musically and lyrically slash anyone apart who’s done her wrong. I prefer her hard stuff myself, but we got a large helping of both last night. Drunken Angel, Concrete and Barbed Wire, Metal Firecracker and Joy came from her 1998 Car Wheels on a Gravel Road release. Blue, Essence and Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings were also played during her hour and twenty minute performance. Her most recent cd Little Honey gave us the up tempo Honey Bee, Real Love and a surprising set closing rendition of AC/DC’S – It’s a Long Way To The Top.

A solid show, but a little bit of a spark seemed to be lacking at times. She is a better songwriter than any of The Flatlanders (and that’s saying quite a lot), but their stage presence and overall exuberance gave them the upper hand in my opinion. I think Lucinda Williams only problem last night was that she got knocked off stride by a West Texas storm that blew in from Lubbock, and never really recovered.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive

THE SECRET MUSEUM:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney


Jim Webb wrote:

Mike –

I have found myself again prowling around the back catalogue of famous bands, listening to their albums that didn’t have the big hit. A couple of these tracks got some airplay, but this was the last decent BTO sandwich before it all went to hell.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive- Head On (1975)

I have to confess that in the 1970’s I was not a BTO fanatic. Never saw them live and didn’t own an album of theirs. You basically didn’t have to buy their stuff because it seemed like it was played nonstop on the radio. My only credentials would be that whenever they did come on the radio, I would instinctively reach for the volume dial to turn it up. Let it Ride, Takin’ Care of Business, You Ain’t Seen Nuthin’ Yet, and Roll On Down The Highway are still classic road rock tunes for driving around.

1975 had a glut of guitar bands from Foghat and Ted Nugent to Aerosmith, Blue Oyster Cult and ZZ Top blasting away with stacks of amps all pointed at our heads. Bachman –Turner Overdrive had been selling out arenas since 1973 and was starting to be looked at as yesterday’s hard rock heroes. Selling tickets to their concerts wasn’t a problem, but leader Randy Bachman was getting a little bored with their never changing two guitars, bass and drums sound. Head On still has the wall-to-wall heavy sound in rockers like Find Out About Love, and Wild Spirit, but also slipped in to the mix is an early proto type Power Ballad titled Woncha Take Me For a While. You know that style from the eighties - when long haired, emotionally challenged singers break down and pledge their undying love to the women in their life for the first time publicly, with a slow crescendo of guitars building in the background to a frenzied peak. Fred Turner does his best on making that vocal believable, but Randy still wasn’t done tinkering under the hood. Lookin’ Out For #1 was a full fledged cocktail jazz workout that you could expect to hear at any nondescript Holiday Inn lounge buried in the Midwest. The song does have a great melodic guitar solo from Randy that would have made jazz guitarists Joe Pass or Jim Hall proud. Bachman had a brief moment of clarity and knew that the end was coming somewhere up ahead and wasn’t quite sure what to do. He just wanted to change the formula a little bit, it was time to put down the beer and maybe have a glass of Chablis for a change. Fred Turner basically told him to f**k off and that he ain’t no wine sipper, he was going to ride their classic rig as long as he could. Randy left in 1977 after the Freeways release, he had put too much time and energy into building BTO to want to be around when it finally ran out of gas. Fred parked it in 1980 and the legal battles between Randy and his two younger brothers that wanted to continue using the name started. It has been claimed that Head On was mostly leftovers from the two previous albums. That sounds about right to my ears because a lot of older BTO riffs seem recycled on tracks like Average Man and Down To the Line. If you are tired of your BTO Greatest Hits cd, this wouldn’t be a bad pickup. Even with a couple of softies, it mostly rocks with solid riffs and production.

Music critics, non-fans, and mellow James Taylorites from the seventies all claimed that a hundred apes locked in a room with musical instruments for a hundred years would ultimately sound just like BTO. Why do I like an occasional blast of Bachman –Turner Overdrive? It’s simple really, sometimes I just feel like an ape.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

I’m a fan. Randy Bachman is responsible for some of Rock’s most-enduring riffs. He’s a totally underrated guitarist (just ask Neil Young.) Tuneful and Jazzy, he can also rock with the best and make it seems effortless.

I first caught BTO during their initial arena tour in 1974, opening for Black Oak Arkansas and Foghat (though it might have been Ten Years After and the J. Geils Band- ...pity youth, etc.) at the Spectrum (aka Rectum) in Philly. Bachman-Turner Overdrive II had just been released, and Let It Ride was getting lots of airplay (I don’t think Taking Care Of Business had hit yet- it would be massive later that summer.) BTO held their own against the big guns: Fred Turner was no Peter Wolf or Jim Dandy, and Randy wasn’t flashy like Alvin Lee (or Rod Price for that matter), but their workmanlike approach won over the typically fickle Philadelphia audience.

Bachman-Turner Overdrive II was a big record in Philadelphia that year, blasting from every suburban kid’s Pioneer car speakers- via 8-track tape of course- and no sooner had it begun its descent from the charts when Not Fragile appeared, cementing Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s reputation as the working man’s Rock Machine. Spearheaded by Roll On Down The Highway and You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet (check out John Otway’s version from 1982, flipside to his take on Roy Orbison’s In Dreams- both songs are must-hears), this was BTO’s biggest album, and the perfect soundtrack to working class keg parties circa autumn, 1974.

I was able to study Randy Bachman’s guitar technique up close when BTO reconvened for a new LP (self-titled, 1984) and club tour in 1985. The Music Machine in LA was the perfect venue for the group. It had a good PA system, and was neither too big that the sound would get lost, nor too small to constrain the volume. BTO delivered. This wasn’t just a greatest hits machine playing by numbers. Randy had the fire that night, and seemed almost surprised by his own playing. Not a lot of movement on stage (they kind of bopped in place- like Rush Limbaugh- and that didn’t stop the stage floor from sagging a little; these were some seriously large guys), but BTO rocked furiously. In a sense, they reminded me of Television- just stand there and let it burn. It was a stunning show.

Randy Bachman’s touring with Burton Cummings this summer (Canada only), but there’s talk of a Bachman-Turner reunion (literally Randy and Fred so far.) If they manage to appear at a Casino showroom, State Fair or biker rally within 3 hours of Taos/Santa Fe, The Secret Museum will be there.

-Michael Mooney
loftholdingswood.blogspot.com

More Monochrome Set; Jorge Reyes

THURSDAY, MAY 21, 2009

More Monochrome Set; Jorge Reyes
The Secret Museum
By Michael Mooney and Jim Webb

THE MONOCHROME SET

Back during their heyday in the early 1980s, I recall reading in the NME or Melody Maker a review of Eligible Bachelors, the third LP from the Monochrome Set, in which the critic stated that the music was suitable listening for housewives only: hummable tunes, inoffensive content, perfect for doing the washing up or hanging clothes on the line; all others beware. Apart from that blatant bit of sexism, it’s clear that the reviewer, typical of most writing during the waning days of both of these once-great English music weeklies, barely gave the record a single spin. Eligible Bachelors is a great album, as are the Monochrome Set’s first two, Strange Boutique and Love Zombies. The Monochrome Set is responsible for some of the finest subversive music of the late 20th Century, similar in that sense to the magnificent Microdisney, but minus the inferiority complex (and wearing a smaller smirk.)

Self-reflexive beyond compare- sample song titles: The Monochrome Set (I Presume), B-I-D Spells Bid (Bid’s the singer), The Weird, Wild And Wonderful World Of Tony Potts (the group’s resident filmmaker/visual consultant), and Lester Leaps In (showcase for guitarist Lester Square)- The Monochrome Set were also capable of withering satire (Whoops! What A Palaver, Silicon Carne, Alphaville, I’ll Scry Instead), pointed social commentary (Apocalypso, The Jet Set Junta, which may have predicted the Falklands/Malvinas Conflict by some six months), a few rather brazen observations of a physiological nature (Fat Fun, The Mating Game, The Lighter Side Of Dating, On The Thirteenth Day, Love Goes Down The Drain), outright absurdity (10 Don’ts For Honeymooners, Ein Symphonie Des Grauns, Martians Go Home), occasionally all four in the same song (Ice Les Enfants), and rarely, none of the above (the heartbreaking Goodbye Joe.) Bid’s a one-of-a-kind vocalist, though hardly an acquired taste; Lester is the unsung guitar hero of the post-punk era. The Monochrome Set sound like no one else, and they’re better than every single English group of the last twenty-five years.

Recommended listening:
Strange Boutique (1980)
Love Zombies (1980)
Eligible Bachelors (1982)
Colour Transmission (1992) combines Strange Boutique with Love Zombies in one convenient set.
Volume, Contrast, Brilliance… Sessions & Singles (1983)

There are 6 or 7 further LPs of original material (all good), beginning with 1985’s The Lost Weekend, plus tons of compilations.
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com



JORGE REYES - The Shaman Has Left the Building

In 1990 I bought my first Jorge Reyes CD on the recommendation of a record store owner in Silver Spring, MD. I have purchased, played, and ultimately sold literally thousands of discs since then, but have never gotten rid of any Jorge Reyes. All of his releases are difficult to locate, having been released on various small Mexican and European record labels; some of them I’m still searching for.

Jorge Reyes was born in 1952 in Michoacan, Mexico and died of a heart attack in February 2009 while in a recording studio. His life ended abruptly, but I’m not surprised that he was making music right up to his final breath. He started off playing in various bands during the late 60’s, but became established as the leader of Chac Mol, a progressive Mexican rock band that released five albums in the seventies. After a period of traveling and recharging his creative batteries Jorge decided around 1983 to concentrate on his love of pre-hispanic music. He started to accumulate and play on a large variety of clay pots, flutes, and other native instruments that The Mayans have used for centuries. What made his music so unique was that he combined the indigenous tribal sounds of Michoacan, with state of the art recording technology. Native hand percussion with chanted vocals from local villagers was blended with electric keyboards and synthesizers to create a new modern sound world. His music was mostly instrumental, and had a spiritual or trance like quality to it. Spiritual in his need to reconnect with the Ancient, and he frequently based releases on Mayan themes such as The Jaguar, Dreams or Death. It is hard to categorize his work. New Age music has no soul, so where does that leave the most soulful of experimental electronic artists? Tribal /ambient is a phrase that has been used most recently in describing his work. Meditative at times, longer pieces use repetition as a way of inducing a hypnotic like state in the mind. His music is not for everyone; in fact it can be unsettling in its celebration of obscure rituals and tribal power. There is a fine line between quality trance work, and something bereft of ideas that is simply boring. Jorge was never dull for me, but I like long instrumental passages in music. If you have enjoyed some of Brian Eno’s or Steve Roach’s work he is a kindred spirit but in a heavier, darker vein. This is not an Enya/Yanni / JohnTesh, Sunday morning with coffee artist; Reyes’ music comes alive after dark when the animals and reptiles leave their daytime hiding places.

So sadly, another man done gone. One of the beauties of any musicians recorded legacy is that you can go back and take the same aural journey that he created and was once on. Thank you Jorge for your music, and wherever you’ve gone, it just got a little more interesting.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Orchestral Maneuvers In The Dark, Killing Joke; The Dead

The Secret Museum

By Jim Webb

After briefly raving about The Monochrome Set last time, I’ve continued my early 80’s U.K. listening revival with Killing Joke and Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark. Both bands were favorites of the legendary Brit radio DJ John Peel, and were recorded for his program many times between 1979 and 1983.

O.M.D. was the anti-punk band of the late seventies who, with Gary Numan and The Human League, spearheaded the synth-pop movement. Melding pop songwriting hooks and commercial-sounding synthesizers, with a simple drum machine keeping an upbeat rhythm, O.M.D. were the next evolutionary step to such 70s bands as Kraftwerk, Roxy Music and Sparks. They had a handful of Top Twenty British singles, including Enola Gay and Electricity, before running out of steam in the late 80’s. Their closest reference is Soft Cell, though minus Marc Almond’s implied decadence. If you absolutely hated Tainted Love, then take a pass on O.M.D., but if, like me, you think Tainted Love was a good pop song that unfortunately got played to death, you’ll probably like Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark.

Killing Joke are much simpler and direct than Orchestral Maneuvers. They’re a straightforward guitar/ punk band that didn’t vary (at first) their unusually dense sound too much. By the late eighties and into the nineties, however, they started becoming a little too bombastic for my taste. Keep in mind 1980 Killing Joke is definitely “of the period”, meaning three-chord guitar nastiness that is satisfying in its striped down assault. If there’s a knock to be leveled against them it’s that now their late 70’s/ early 80’s output sounds a little dated. Not much melody in the songs, but hell – you could say the same about a lot of groups of the era.

Whomever John Peel promoted on his program was guaranteed to provide interesting listening. Peel’s been gone a few years now, and is still greatly missed. It would take a lifetime to catch up with all his recorded BBC sessions. His tastes were wide-ranging and impeccable.


The Dead- Pepsi Center, Denver
May 7, 2009

Mike-

Good show, mind-bending drive from Santa Fe to Denver (as usual.) I don't know if any group is "worth" driving twelve hours roundtrip, but in the end I couldn't miss it. The Dead (minus Grateful, because it ain’t the same without Jerry, man) now has Gov't Mule/ Allman Bros. guitarist, vocalist Warren Haynes on board for this tour. Warren thankfully doesn't try to mimic every guitar line Garcia created, but follows him respectfully at times, while adding his own signature sound. A nearly full house at The Pepsi Center was pumped to the max for the first Dead tour since 2004. Bob Weir, Phil Lesh, Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzman aren’t just still alive and well, but seemed revitalized after their five-year hiatus, and played for two and a half hours. The first set featured classics like Casey Jones, Easy Wind, and Loser, while the second set opened with an acoustic Deep Elem Blues, then Me And My Uncle, before Phil sang Whiskey In The Jar. For thirty-plus years now I have never been able to get into the drums/space portion of the show, where the drummers bang around for ten minutes before the full band joins in on a freeform jam that goes nowhere. This gig was no exception. A nice ending with Not Fade Away and an encore of Ripple. Only The Dead could range from a traditional Irish tune to Buddy Holly in one evening and somehow make it work. The World's Greatest Bar Band is back, and Jerry's kids are still happily soaking it all in.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Mick Jones' hair; The Monochrome Set; Music Television

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Mike -

Buried in a feature on Mott The Hoople in the latest Mojo, there’s an accompanying picture of Hoople fan Mick Jones at about 18 years old with his hair down to his arse. No one in the history of rock music has ever lost more hair between the ages of twenty and fifty-five than Jonesy. I think it says quite a lot about how bad he wanted to "make it" in a rock group that he would chop off his beloved Samsonesque locks in order to be accepted as a true punk rocker. Does the incriminating photo now and forever disqualify him from the Punk Rock Hall of Fame and labeled a poseur from this day forward? Or is he just Jonesy being Jonesy, and the tired old game of “I was a punk before you were a punk" means nothing, to be sadly buried alongside John Mellor.

About three weeks ago I was overcome with a sudden craving for The Monochrome Set and realized I currently had none. After re-procuring their first two LPs, I’ve come to the conclusion they are the second most underrated band (after Doll by Doll) circa late 70s/ early 80s UK. They are smart, popish, fun, unpredictable and top it all with tight, razor sharp guitar playing. They are everything Talking Heads wanted to be but couldn’t pull off. Dave Byrne took his exalted Heads down a predictable radio friendly dead-end that ultimately led to everyone in the group arguing over money and other "high-brow" interests. Meanwhile, The Monochrome Set kicked out some classic three minute tunes that never got the time of day from our side of the pond. It’s odd that Byrne became revered as one of the Kings of "Pop Art", while others far more worthy are long forgotten.
-Jim Webb


Jim-

There are a number of great bands from the 70s/80s cusp worthy of another look, including the Monochrome Set’s Cherry Red label mates Five Or Six and The Nightingales (and, obviously, old-timer Kevin Coyne.) I’ll ready a full-blown appraisal of the Monochrome Set for the coming weeks. Meanwhile, newcomers are directed to Volume, Contrast, Brilliance, an excellent starting point.

Talking Heads: I found them enjoyable as a trio opening for the Ramones at Max’s in ’76, but, apart from the first album and the song about keeping the baby awake, they did nothing for me. I much prefer Tom Tom Club.

To Mick Jones’ credit, he had quite the Paul Stanley poodle-do going on by the time of Give ‘Em Enough Rope. But you’re right- Jonesy lost his pelt in a hurry. Maybe we didn’t notice because of all the stupid hats he wore during the B.A.D. years.
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com


I Don’t Want My MTV

Once upon a time music videos were on the cutting edge of new technology, and the Big Corporate Record Labels spent more money on a song’s video production costs than the actual recording studio budget. We all remember what the result of that new infatuation brought us: the vacuum of the 1980’s music scene. MTV wound up in bed with the big labels, and popular music became dominated by Duran Duran, Kajagoogoo, Culture Club, A Flock of Seagulls, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and numerous other haircut bands. These groups had absolutely nothing to say, though they all looked great on the tube, where their videos were played every hour in heavy rotation.

The only purpose of the major record label is to make money. The “biz” consistently attempts to either create new profitable fads, or jumps on existing trends (once they think they’ve got them figured out) in order to squeeze out maximum profits. In the late fifties/ early sixties we already saw the concept at work, when the likes of Fabian, Connie Francis, Pat Boone, Frankie, Annette, Bobby Vee and other bland, well-groomed boys and girls dominated the top 40 airwaves. The Beatles were to soon change all that, and their contrasting sound shows how truly terrible the pop music scene had become.

The British Invasion cleared the deck of all those “nice” pop stars and turned them into has-beens overnight. It took the Brits to remind us that Little Richard, Gene Vincent, and Chuck Berry were still the real deal, not Dick Clark’s Bandstand kiddie sound. The Monkees were another example of an executive boardroom creation, though the musicians involved should at least be credited for producing some pretty decent stuff for a change. Later in the 60s that same marketing strategy later turned into huge money by way of The Archies and various bubblegum fakeries. The seventies had its share of prefabricated nonsense, including David Cassidy and the Bay City Rollers. The only good thing to come out of such corporate manipulation is the inevitable backlash. From 1974 to 1976 great bands like The Ramones, Television, Sex Pistols, The Clash, Graham Parker, even early Springsteen, were the antidote to the tired sounding superstar groups and instant pop stars that had poisoned the living connection between musicians and supporters.

Once the initial excitement of a 24-hour music channel wore off, MTV offered very little of substance, apart from the odd weekend and/or late-night specialty program (120 Minutes, Yo! MTV Raps, and Headbanger’s Ball), plus a few clever art-inclined videos during the early nineties (coinciding with the rise and plummet of Nirvana.) Otherwise, it’s all reality programming, TRL, the occasional Hippity Hop vid , and the culmination of all that Corporate America has learned in creating profits from packaging: Spice Girls, ‘N Sync, Backstreet Boys, O-Town, Jonas Brothers and myriad disposable dolts (Disney’s Hannah Montana is just the latest music/TV fabrication to funnel the kids money into the Corporate bank account.)

In 2009, we are now close to the same kind of bottoming out that paved the way for The Beatles 45 years ago. MTV’s Top Twenty this week includes the same old rhyme patterns (that always sound to me like grade school kids jumping rope), with the usual dozen dancers in the background doing the same clichéd moves Michael Jackson used for Thriller. It’s frustrating to see a great idea- 24-hour music television- reduced to a promotional tool for such dull and predictable product. And whether or not it’s MTV’s or the Corporation’s fault, it seems that very few people these days are interested in learning to become a good musician or songwriter- they just want to be rich and famous. It’s too much of an effort to learn how to play an instrument. Practicing eight hours daily to perfect a skill seems ridiculous in an era when you can simply follow the Paris/ Lindsay example (just make sure you hire a great press agent.) Do I expect another earth-shattering miracle like 1964? No, but considering the hollow celebrity sweepstakes the masses have been fixated on recently, a year-zero musical upheaval is officially overdue.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Forty years on from Woodstock: U2’s 2009 Summer of Greed

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb

"It's a tough life being a pop star. You know, at the end of the day when you've paid all the bills and put the kids through college and that, you know, there's only enough left for a small island off the South Pacific."-The drummer from U2

Rock concerts have evolved, from 1969’s epic gathering in upstate New York of like- minded souls with similar musical and lifestyle choices, to being nothing but a money producing ATM machine for the celebrities onstage. Former London School of Economics student Mick Jagger and his debauched cronies invented the rock concert as modern-day train robbery, but Bono’s U2 have perfected the “Art” of hauling cash out of your pocket and putting it into theirs.

Has anyone noticed that U2’s last half dozen CDs all sound the same? They’ve become just another band that have creatively run out of gas, but still charge premium prices at the pump (turnstiles.) Bono feels so guilty about becoming a mega million “brand” name, like Exxon or Budweiser, that he parades around the world in his private jet asking for debt forgiveness to the poor. I’m not against giving anybody an extra hand up, but it’s laughable that Bono doesn’t think we can see through his charade. His wish is to be credited as a contemporary Robin Hood- nice idea, except that he is the Rich, and became so by overcharging for tickets, t-shirts and recordings. I wish the American concert-going public would send him a message by picking one of his shows this summer to boycott. We shouldn’t put up with bands continuing to gouge us, particularly during these challenging economic times. They don’t care about you, and never did. It’s always been about building name recognition, then reaping the rewards.

U2 certainly aren’t the only ones over the last forty years who have jumped on the Rock and Roll gravy train and milked it for all it’s worth, though it is beyond absurd that they continually try and package themselves as different from the rest every time out, committed to the common man. I have more respect for Jagger, because he’s at least upfront about running a for-profit circus. Bono wants the same customers and their cash, while attempting to make it seem like he really cares about the elephants in the show. If there is nothing left culturally from the music scene in 1969, we can at least respect the memory of what could once be had. I know things will never go back to how they “used to be”; we’re all choking now on what happened once music got taken over by Big Business. In the late seventies, before they got plowed under as U2’S ‘biggest influence’, The Clash sang: “They think its funny, turning rebellion into money.” Joe Strummer was more prophetic than he could have imagined.

In 2009, it’s fitting to remember what was written about the original gathering of tribes forty years ago:

We are stardust, we are golden
We are caught in the devil’s bargain
And we got to get ourselves back to the garden

Instead of going to a U2 show this summer, call 1-800-FLOWERS and have a nice bouquet sent to the old Yasgur’s farm, c/o General Delivery, Bethel, New York.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Roger Miller; Acid Mothers Temple

The Secret Museum

Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

"If I had my life to live over I wouldn’t have time."

Forget Chug-A-Lug, bobbies on bicycles, and maple surple. Despite winning eleven Grammies during one two-year period (1964-66), plus a 1985 Tony Award for Best Musical (Big River), Roger Miller will be remembered, like Ray Stevens and Jerry Reed, as a quirky Pop-Country singer with a penchant for novelty songs. This description isn’t fair to Roger (or to Ray and Jerry, for that matter), because Roger Miller was a brilliant tunesmith and a master of the lyrical device, including literary consonance, blank verse, personification, simile, exposition, onomatopoeia, metaphor, alliteration, and irony. Also, he’s not funny; he just appears to be. For proof, perhaps we should have a look at that maple surple:

Well here I sit high, gettin' ideas
Ain't nothing but a fool would live like this
Out all night and runnin' wild
Woman sittin' home with a month old child

Just settin' around drinkin' with the rest of the guys
Six rounds we bought, and I bought five
Spent the groceries and half the rent
I lack fourteen dollars, havin' twenty seven cents

They say roses are red and violets are purple
Sugar's sweet and so's maple surple
And I'm the seventh out of seven sons
My pappy was a pistol 
I'm a son of a gun

Dang me, dang me
They oughta take a rope and hang me
High from the highest tree
Woman would you weep for me?

Not wildly hilarious, is it? And that’s what makes Roger Miller brilliant- appearances are always deceiving. Take this finely honed declaration of resentment:

I hear tell you’re doin’ well,
Good things have come to you.
I wish I had your happiness
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do

They tell me you’re runnin’ free,
Your days are never blue.
I wish I had your good-luck charm
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do.

Yeah, I see you’re goin’ down the street in your big Cadillac,
You got girls in the front, you got girls in the back,
Yeah, way in back, you got money in a sack,
Both hands on the wheel and your shoulders reared back

I hear tell you’re doin’ well,
Good things have come to you.
I wish I had your happiness
And you had a do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do-wacka-do.

Hardly a novelty song (who hasn’t felt that very same way at one time or another?), Do Wacka Do is as pure an expression of envy as anything by Rock misanthropes like Steely Dan, Micodisney, or Elvis Costello. Delivered as a casual, albeit gigantic, “fuck you”, it sounds, in true Punk Rock style, like it was recorded while he wrote it.

Much has been made of Roger’s predilection for (and colossal consumption of) amphetamines, and their influence on his lyrics. My Uncle Used To Love Me But She Died reached #58 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in 1966:

Who’ll bid me quarter, thirty cents for a ring of keys
Three sixty-five for a dollar bill of groceries
I’ll have me a car of my own someday but ’til then I need a ride
My uncle used to love me but she died

Hamburger, cup of coffee, lettuce and tomato
Two times a dime to see a man kiss the alligator
One more time around free on the Ferris wheel ride
My uncle used to love me but she died

Apples are for eatin’ and snakes are for hissin’
I’ve heard about huggin’ and I’ve heard about kissin’
I read about it free in a fifty cent illustrated guide
My uncle used to love me but she died

Well, my uncle used to love but she died
A chicken ain’t chicken ’til he’s lickin’ good fried
Keep on the sunny side
My uncle used to live me but she died

Are these lines merely the confused musings of a Hollywood/ Nashville pill head, or instead a levelheaded meditation on attempting to remain positive in a world fixated on money, power and sex? Miller’s songs are meant to be heard, not read, but the devil’s in the details. “I read about it free in a fifty cent illustrated guide”- this isn’t your run of the mill disposable lyrical pap. Further examples are found in Roger’s best-known hit:

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but..two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination: Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out suits and shoes,
I don't pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

I know every engineer on every train
All of their children, and all of their names
And every handout in every town
And every lock that ain't locked
When no one's around.

“…I ain’t got no cigarettes”, “I’m a man of means by no means”, “Third boxcar”, “...short but not too big around “, and “every lock that ain’t locked when no one’s around.” Show me another song that is loaded with such vivid narrative imagery. Okay, I’ll show you two:

Old friends, pitching pennies in the park
Playing croquet 'til it's dark, old friends
Old friends, swapping lies of lives and loves
Pitching popcorn to the doves, old friends

Old friends, looking up to watch a bird
Holding arms to climb a curb, old friends
Old friends, lord when all my work is done
Bless my life and grant me one old friend
At least one old friend

and


Two broken hearts
Lonely looking like houses where nobody lives
Two people each having so much pride inside
Neither side forgives

The angry words spoken in haste,
Such a waste of two lives,
It's my belief
Pride is the chief cause in the decline
In the number of husbands and wives

A woman and a man, a man and a woman;
Some can and some can't
And some can't.

Finally, Roger lists what you can and cannot do. Words of wisdom:

You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd
You can't take a shower in a parakeet cage
You can't go swimmin' in a baseball pool
You can't change film with a kid on your back
You can't drive around with a tiger in your car
You can't go fishin' in a watermelon patch

But you can be happy if you've a mind to
All you gotta do is put your mind to it
Knuckle down, buckle down
Do it.

-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Acid Mothers Temple: 21st Century Schizoid Band

Mike –

Japan’s Acid Mothers Temple is touring the States this April/ May in support of three new releases. Having seen them play in 2004 at the Festival Musique Actuelle in Victoriaville, Quebec, I thought I would try and describe what is about to be unleashed on my fellow Americans.

The group is the brainchild of lead guitarist Kawabata Makoto and was formed in 1995/96 with the purpose of becoming a “soul collective” with the common goal of creating music without boundaries. Numerous releases have followed. Makoto claims that he has personally not created anything, referring to himself as a radio receiver for the cosmos. Japan in 1995 experienced the continued stagnation of their economy. The country reeled from the Aum Shinrikyo Toyko subway sarin gas attacks that killed thirteen people. Creating a mystical, communal, psychedelic rock band during that time was an act of faith by Makoto. The official name of the group at the time was the Acid Mothers Temple & the Melting Paraiso U.F.O. The band is unabashed lovers of Krautrock, Hard Rock, Prog Rock, and Space Rock. At any time one can detect these influences, as well as a little Frank Zappa and some Japanese musical (Minyo) and cultural (Godzilla) references for good measure. Their CD titles might do a better job of explaining what you are in store for::

Troubadours From Another Heavenly World (1997)
Pataphysical Freak Out (2000)
Electric Heavyland (2002)
Minstrel in the Galaxy (2004)
The Day Before the Sky Fell (2006)
The Soul of a Mountain Wolf (2007)

Another release, Starless and Bible Black Sabbath, has a gloriously heavy bass line that churns throughout the 39-minute opening track. They’ve also recorded a version of Terry Riley’s minimalist classic In C.

Personnel changes have been constant factor throughout Acid Mothers Temple’s history. Cotton Casino is credited on early releases as contributing beer, cigarettes and vocals; she has since departed for a solo career. As the band changed, so did its name. Acid Mother Gong was a brief incarnation with Daevid Allen, and they once toured as Acid Gurus Temple with Mani Neumeier of Krautrock legends Guru Guru. Other names have been used, the most recent line up operating as Acid Mothers Temple & the Cosmic Inferno.

At Victoriaville, mellow washes of ambient guitar prefaced furious squalls of pure molten riffage, morphing into an impenetrable heavy wall of sound. In 2009, concert goers may get a Hawkwind-at-the-Roundhouse-1970 style Space Rock extravaganza, but when the music begins to sound like you are descending a deep tunnel on the Express Train to Gehenna, that’s not one too many Michelobs; you’ve just been caught in Sorcerer Makoto’s web of sound.

If you decide you want to go all in and purchase the entire Acid Mothers Temple catalogue, there are around fifty CDs to acquire (that’s BEFORE you get to Makoto’s 25+ solo/side projects.). Granted, long guitar jam/trance freak-outs are not for everyone. But if you want to indulge in the occasional psychedelic Japanese sea chantey or recreate the psilocybin experience without the mushrooms, this is your band. You can see them rampaging around the U.S. in April and May, but if you go, take my advice and be prepared for anything. Kawabata & band can pull you out of your comfort zone within the first eight bars of music, and on a great night will escort you to the other side of the sky.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Rock & Roll Cities (#2 in an occasional series)

Colorado City, AZ

By Michael Mooney & Jim Webb


Colorado City: population 4807 with 71.8% under the age of 25 and 65% living below the poverty line. Anorexic local former prophet Warren Jeffs hates us heathens, especially Little Richard and Tina Turner. This town needs some Rock And Roll. Suggested chronological mix to get the kids started:

Utah Mormon Blues- Phil Pavey
Rip It Up- Little Richard
Kissin’ Cousins- Elvis Presley
You Don’t Own Me- Lesley Gore
A Change Is Gonna Come- Sam Cooke
Don’t Look Back- The Remains
Break On Through- The Doors
Shape Of Things To Come- Max Frost and The Troopers
Tears Of Rage- The Band
You Could Be Born Again- The Free Design
Cease To Exist- Charles Manson
Big Sky- The Kinks
We’re Not Gonna Take It- The Who
What Goes On- Velvet Underground
Liar- Argent
Ave Lucifer- Os Mutantes
(Don't Worry) If There's A Hell Below We're All Going To Go- Curtis Mayfield
My God- Jethro Tull
Death May Be Your Santa Claus- Mott The Hoople
One Tin Soldier- Coven
Zion Higher- Burning Spear
Godbluff- Van der Graaf Generator
(I’m) Stranded- The Saints
Amazing Grace- Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers
Crazy Horses- Alex Harvey
Oh Bondage! Up Yours- X-Ray Spex
Pinhead- The Ramones
Family Album- David Allan Coe
Welfare Mothers- Neil Young & Crazy Horse
All We Ever Look For- Kate Bush
Fanatics- Minutemen
Rise Above- Black Flag
Religion- Motorhead
Kids Don’t Follow- The Replacements
Girls Just Want To Have Fun- Cyndi Lauper
The Warrior- Scandal
Better Be Good To Me- Tina Turner
Hello Cruel World- The Mekons
Dear God- XTC
Kidnap Yourself- He Said
Roam- The B-52’s
Throwing Back The Apple- Pale Saints
Double Dare Ya- Bikini Kill
Freedom- Tegan and Sara
Cast Me Out In My Hometown- Cathal Coughlan
I Get Out- Lauryn Hill
Beautiful- Christina Aguillera
Mr. Marx’s Table- Wire
Cult- Slayer
The W.A.N.D.- Flaming Lips
Prophet- Carbon/Silicon
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Mike-
I would like to add a few tracks to your music compilation for the members of the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints religious organization. These three songs are specifically dedicated to the imprisoned sociopath, fornicator and false prophet Warren Jeffs. My hope is that the Warden at the Purgatory Correctional Facility will read this and find a way to pump these tunes into Warren's cell 24 hours a day. Listening to the lyrics of these songs repeatedly might help Jeffs, the greatest spiritual con artist of the last hundred years, to realize the damage he’s caused to untold thousands of people, particularly women. If nothing else, constant exposure to Yoko Ono, Helen Reddy and The A's would be a pretty severe punishment. It could even be considered torture.

I am woman, hear me roar
In numbers too big to ignore
And I know too much to go back and pretend
'Cause I've heard it all before
And I've been down there on the floor
No one's ever gonna keep me down again

You can bend but never break me
'Cause it only serves to make me
More determined to achieve my final goal
And I come back even stronger
Not a novice any longer
'Cause you've deepened the conviction in my soul

I am woman watch me grow
See me standing toe to toe
As I spread my loving arms across the land
But I'm still an embryo
With a long, long way to go
Until I make my brother understand

Oh, yes, I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to
I can face anything
I am strong
I am invincible
I am woman

Oh, I am woman
I am invincible
I am strong



When a man lays his cards on the table
Trying to make a name
Looking for a miracle
Looking for something that he does not know
Walking the streets and there's nowhere to go
When a man's got to fight to keep on dreaming
And the whole world seems like it's plotted and see man laying odds
if he's gonna lose
He's gonna need the strength that comes from you

When a man's got to his bottom dollar
And his foolish pride fills with more than he can swallow
When it seems his shame is more than he can bare
And his hopes and dreams are fading into thin air
When a man finds he struggles in vain
And he's holding a losing hand playing a losing game
And he finds he's got his back to the wall
He needs you there to pick him up should he fall

You've got to love him
Squeeze him
Hold him in your arms, never leave him

A woman's got the strength
A woman's got the power



Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...think about it
Woman is the nigger of the world
Think about it...do something about it

We make her paint her face and dance
If she wont be a slave, we say that she don't love us
If she’s real, we say she’s trying to be a man
While putting her down, we pretend that she’s above us

We make her bear and raise our children
And then we leave her flat for being a fat old mother hen
We tell her home is the only place she should be
Then we complain that she’s too unworldly to be our friend

We insult her every day on tv
And wonder why she has no guts or confidence
When she’s young we kill her will to be free
While telling her not to be so smart we put her down for being so dumb

Woman is the nigger of the world
Yes she is...if you don't believe me, take a look at the one you’re with
Woman is the slave to the slaves
Yes she is...if you believe me, you better scream about it
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Jim-
A Noriega-style musical bombardment may help Warren’s rehabilitation, though I’d prefer some good old-fashioned blood atonement. Given the chance, one or more of the other residents of Purgatory will likely take that matter up eventually, and send him straight to Hell in a handcart.
-Michael Mooney

Kid Rock

St. Paddy's Day

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb & Michael Mooney



Kid Rock - The High Priest of Trash Tries Recycling

A few weeks ago I saw Kid Rock’s video for his song All Summer Long. Bob “Kid Rock” Ritchie popularized the Las Vegas White Trash Style (still manifesting itself on The Strip in 2009), and has been blending rap, rock, pop and country since the early 90s. On this song he hijacks the riff from Warren Zevon’s Werewolves of London and parts of Lynyrd Skynryd’s Sweet Home Alabama, adding his own lyrics into the blender to come up with this recent hit. The idea of Kid Rock taking old songs and weaving parts of them into new stuff is one I like. The two classic rock tunes he uses are better than the new final result, but I think his attempt at creating something new from the ashes of the old is praiseworthy, even if it is greater in concept than actualization. It will be interesting to see if other rock/pop acts follow his lead in recycling old songs into new. Rock Music is slowly dying from the twin effects of the short attention span of the digital download generation, and the domination of urban/rap top 40 radio across all youth demographics. Kid’s approach could help the younger crowd discover some past classics they missed firsthand. One of Pop Music’s traits has always been its disposability (“low art” trash); something new will be quickly taking over the airwaves and making last week’s hit obsolete. Is All Summer Long good trash or bad trash? Will the Eco-friendly/Green conscious youth decide this kind of song recycling is good for the planet and their iPods? Can we expect The Archie’s Sugar Sugar or other pop trash to be brought into the 21st century with a new body and facelift? When it comes to these questions, there’s only one thing for certain: Kid Rock will be partying near the front of the pack.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


Jim-

Given that the history of Rock is rife with blatant wholesale theft, it doesn’t surprise me that two-bit hustler Bob Ritchie ripped off a couple of the 70s lesser musical moments (neither songs contain a bridge) to earn (?) himself another empty-headed hit (I’m reminded of the Clash singing about ‘gimmick-hungry yobs digging gold from Rock and Roll’- Ritchie’s entire career is summarized in that line.) There aren’t many plundered songs in the Rock canon that have been improved by the thieves themselves. The Beach Boys’ Surfin’ USA- pilfered from Sweet Little Sixteen- comes to mind (and even that one’s debatable), but few others. What Ritchie is doing here is typical of his type: stealing from a creative source and calling it homage.

These are the first 10 songs from my iPod this morning (random setting):

1. Steve Hillage: U.F.O. Over Paris (Green- 1978)
Spacy (what else) riff over tight but funky rhythm section, dissolving into celestial
glissando coda. Trippy.

2. Can: Deadlock- Instrumental Title Melody (Soundtracks- 1970)
And sounding like the theme to an Italian horror flick (which it may very well be.)

3. Damien Dempsey: It’s All Good (Seize The Day- 2004)
One of the finest songs of this young century. Co-sung by Sinead O’Connor.
Mournful and beautiful, as is all the best Irish music.
“Love yourself today. OK, OK”

4. The Kinks: Strangers (Lola VS Powerman And The Moneygoround, Part One- 1970)
Possibly brother Dave’s finest Kinks moment, and certainly his best 70s track.

5. Sir Douglas Quintet: Lawd, I’m Just A Country Boy In this Great Big Freaky City
(Mendocino- 1969)
Doug Sahm’s hippie/redneck ode to San Francisco.

6. Microdisney: Idea (Everybody Is Fantastic- 1984)
Leadoff cut from an essential pop LP.

7. Adele: Je Ne Veux Plus d’Accordeon (Femmes De Paris, Volume 2- 2002)
Not the pavement chaser, rather an obscure Chanteuse from les sixties;
French Freakbeat waltz ends in tragedy for the aerophonist.

8. The Zombies: Nothing’s Changed Backing Track (Zombies Heaven Box- 1997)
Hugh Grundy is one of Rock’s greatest drummers. Here’s proof.

9. Nelson Riddle: Batman Thaws Mr. Freeze or That’s The Way The Ice Cube Crumbles
(Batman Original Television Soundtrack- 1966)
Fun mashup incorporating Nelson’s classical vamps with Neal Hefti’s theme and the
great George Sanders (who sounds just like Otto Preminger.) Later sampled by
Juno Reactor.

10. NoMeansNo: Manic Depression (You Kill Me EP- 1985)
Heavy Hendrix cover version, far surpassing the original in both spirit and execution.
Touché!

And a little something for all you Micks (courtesy Fovea Hex):

"O Cormac, grandson of Conn," said Carbery, "what were your habits when you were a lad?"
"Not hard to tell," said Cormac.

"I was a listener in woods,
I was a gazer at stars,
I was blind where secrets were concerned,
I was silent in a wilderness,
I was talkative among many,
I was mild in the mead-hall,
I was stern in battle,
I was gentle towards allies,
I was a physician of the sick,
I was weak towards the feeble,
I was strong towards the powerful,
I was not close lest I be burdensome,
I was not arrogant though I was wise,
I was not given to promising though I was strong,
I was not venturesome though I was swift,
I did not deride the old though I was young,
I was not boastful though I was a good fighter,
I would not speak about anyone in his absence,
I would not reproach, but I would praise,
I would not ask but I would give...

for it is through these habits that the young become old and kingly warriors."

Happy St. Pat’s!
-Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com

Jim's First Ten

Secret Museum Files

The gods of fate have sent Jim and I on a mondo vision quest to deepest darkest Utah. If you see our wives, tell them we’ll be back next Sunday.

Kelly Clement’s Celtic and Beyond (one of two or three KTAO 101.9 programs worthy of your attention) played a block of Mellow Candle a few weeks back. How many other DJs can make that claim? Tune in Wednesdays 7 to 10 p.m. MST (streaming at ktao.com), and request your favorite Christy Moore, Horslips or Frankie Kennedy songs from The Man himself at: CelticAndBeyond@ktao.com
-Michael Mooney

Here’s Jim on his breakthrough year, 1975-

Diary of a Rock Fan

I started out just keeping the concert ticket stubs from shows I attended. At sixteen years there is no master plan about maintaining a record of anything, let alone the concerts you’ve witnessed. After about twenty-five stubs I began to document the shows in a small spiral notebook. Lately, I’ve wished that I kept a record of every book I read from the same date onward as that first concert- not out of vanity, but I have this vague notion now that, maybe if I could go back and review everything I’ve listened to and read, a pattern will emerge, some insight into what makes me tick, and help me to assemble and make sense out of my own personal puzzle. I know that’s asking an awful lot from a simple list of an evening’s entertainment through the years. The philosopher, wild game hunter, and occasional guitarist Ted Nugent said it best: “You’re born at point A, you’re going to die at point B, in between just kick ass.” Here’s where point A starts for me:

1.) Bad Company/ Maggie Bell

May 29, 1975 The Spectrum, Philadelphia

Bad Company on their first headlining tour played this enormous hockey/basketball arena. A near sell-out crowd, 17,000 in attendance, dance concert format. A huge pyramid stack of amps on either side of the stage. Bad Company kicked ass; Maggie Bell had good pipes, dull songs. I would’ve gotten down here sooner for my first gig, but didn’t have a driver’s license. I knew I would be back to this big airplane hanger and it’s exciting, dangerous vibe, and felt like I’d finally found my tribe after wandering in the desert for sixteen years.

2.) Lynyrd Skynyrd/ Elvin Bishop/ Wet Willie
June 19, 1975 The Spectrum

Elvin & Wet were decent enough, but no real magic during their sets. Skynyrd came out firing with their triple guitar attack and never let up. Free Bird was all it was meant to be.

3.) Yes/ Ace
July 23, 1975 Spectrum

I have no idea why a pub-rock band was opening for Prog superstars Yes. A great stage design by Roger Dean wrapped around the band members like a snake. The set mostly consisted of Relayer; Gates of Delirium featuring Patrick Moraz on keyboards was tremendous. I met the Hare Krishnas for the first time in the parking lot.

4.) Allman Brothers Band/ Muddy Waters
Sept. 18, 1975 Spectrum

Old Muddy sat on a stool in front of 18,000 and did his thing; the crowd dug him. The Allmans were touring on Win, Lose or Draw; Chuck Leavell’s signature tune Jessica among the highlights. Dickey Betts was in fine form.

5.) Aerosmith/ REO Speedwagon/ Ted Nugent
Oct. 5, 1975 Spectrum

Ted opened with his ten-minute-plus symphony Hibernation that took the paint off the walls. REO was just another faceless rock band. Aerosmith kicked tail with all the nuggets from Toys in the Attic.

6.) Blackmore’s Rainbow/ Argent
Nov. 15, 1975 Tower Theater, Philadelphia

Argent had a few FM radio staples that went down well. First solo tour for ex Deep Purple guitarist Ritchie Blackmore. Great drum solo by Cozy Powell. No Deep Purple songs. There was a huge rainbow above the musicians on stage that changed colors. Numerous problems with said rainbow (causing feedback from stage amps) stopped the show several times as the always-grumpy Blackmore stormed off with band in tow. The concertgoers booed lead singer Ronnie James Dio- five feet tall including platform boots; he was the only one left onstage.

7.) Allman Brothers Band/ Grinderswitch
Nov. 27, 1975 Madison Square Garden, N.Y.C.

Thanksgiving show at the Garden- rabid New York faithful out in force. Gregg opened with his standard greeting: “We’re gonna play everything we know”, which whipped the crowd into a frenzy before one note had been played. Great gig. One of the members of our road party had to be at work by 6 AM, and sadly we had to catch the last train back to Trenton. We left during Whipping Post. Very painful memory: the morgue-like silence of Penn Station as the Allmans wailed away upstairs haunts me to this day.

8.) The Who/ Toots & The Maytals
December 15, 1975 Spectrum

Toots literally got bottled off the stage, so intent were The Who fanatics to see their heroes. This was the final night of their North American tour and they uncorked a gem. An unbelievable laser show came alive during the Tommy medley half way through the set. Townshend had seven identical Les Paul guitars lined up on stands right behind him; he didn’t wait until the finale to start trashing them. Blazing sound, all the classics, and a righteous mauling of the drums by Keith Moon at the end. The amount of pure magic flowing from the stage was staggering. The band had 18,000 in the palms of their hands from the first note until the last chord faded away.

9.) Foghat/ Leslie West/ Artful Dodger
Dec. 18, 1975 Spectrum

Leslie rocked with Mississippi Queen, but this was Foghat’s night. Slow Ride, Fool for the City and a lot of smoking guitar.

10.) Bruce Springsteen & The E Street band
Dec. 29, 1975 Tower Theater

This was Springsteen at his best. Philly has always been one of his strongholds, and this was a very hard ticket to get. Born To Run had come out in September, and they played the whole damn thing, plus oldies like Quarter to Three. Loose and wild on stage just doing whatever he felt like. Superb.
-Jim Webb

West Bank is a Volatile Place

Music by Muslimgauze

Vandals- Anarchy Burger!

Tennessee Ernie Ford- 16 Tons

The Kinks- Dead End Street

John Mellencamp- Rain On The Scarecrow

Steppenwolf - Monster