A Giant Sucking Sound? What will become of Rock and Roll?

In 1992, presidential candidate Ross Perot warned Americans about the “giant sucking sound” of U.S. jobs fleeing to Mexico if NAFTA passed.  It did, and – for reasons probably having nothing to do with NAFTA – the U.S. went on to have eight years of rapid growth.   Maybe this example of exceeded expectations is reason enough to be slightly optimistic about what will happen to rock and roll once the current wave of aging rockers crashes into a shore of social security, nursing homes and…cemeteries. 

But one could be forgiven for having a slightly bleak outlook.

Just one look at the Chicago area concerts this summer gives reason for concern.  Consider the following acts:

Jimmy Buffet , Paul Simon, Rush, Styx, Bob Segar, Peter Gabriel, Steely Dan, Robert Plant and Journey.

The average age of those acts – not including Styx’s and Journey’s young replacements – is about 61.  Paul Simon will be turning 70 this year.  Jimmy Buffett?  65.  And then there are other aging bands coming to the area: Foghat, Asia, Yes, Nightranger, Motley Crue – the list goes on and on.

In ten years, when all of these acts are gone, what will fill the void?  Sure, there are plenty of popular young musicians on tour this year: Kate Perry, Taylor Swift, R Kelly, Rihanna, Josh Groban, Carrie Underwood…but you have to wonder whether in twenty years people will be willing to shell out wads of cash to see – say – an aging Lady Gaga.

And this really isn’t a knock on today’s artists; there are plenty of bands today that excite me.  But times have changed, and the age of long-lasting rockers with huge followings could be over, replaced instead by musicians who are compartmentalized by geography or niche genres. 

Gone are the days of the nurtured band who’s allowed to grow and audience over time, gaining allegiance and hard-core fans who can name the deep tracks.  Record companies can’t afford to do this anymore, and we as listeners have adjusted the way we listen to music, withholding the devotion, patience and money that music careers so often require. 

Purchasing a song on iTunes for 89 cents doesn’t really ensure a long career or even a follow-up album.  Have you heard anything recently from Daniel Powter?  Do you even know who he is?  Billboard Magazine named Powter the last decade’s top one-hit wonder.  “Bad Day” might have been a huge hit five years ago for Powter, but he couldn’t sell out an arena today, partly because few people actually purchased his album; they purchased his song, and a song does not an arena band make. 

Of course, there have always been one-hit wonders, and one can hope that the Foo Fighters, Kid Rock, The Counting Crows, Kings of Leon, Dave Matthews Band can hang in there for a while and hold down the fort while other acts build an audience.   I’ve no doubt that new performers will rise to the challenge. 

But it could be a couple of ugly years.

Something Old, Something New: Yes at the House of Blues

Here’s something to consider about the current incarnation of the prog-rock group, Yes, who played on March 19 and March 20 at the Chicago House of Blues: its two newest members, Benoit David, just one of a growing number of lead singers who’ve ousted their famous predecessors (think Styx, Journey and now – so I’m told – Boston), and Oliver Wakeman, son of Rick, who takes nepotism to a whole new level (thanks Dad!), are both – get this – OLDER than any of Yes’s band members were when I saw them perform in Milwaukee’s Mecca Arena in 1984, a full fifteen years after the band’s debut album.  With that iteration of Yes, Jon Anderson was the most senior member of the band at age 39, no doubt reveling in the comeback story of the year, as Yes transformed itself into a modern day force, achieving the commercial success that had eluded them since the early 70s.  “Owner of a Lonely Heart,” the most recent song the band played last weekend, reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 in January of 1984, ousting Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson’s “Say, Say, Say.”  Not bad for a group that had only three years earlier disbanded in the wake of major personnel changes.

Now the band is back, and its two youngest members – both 39 or over – have breathed new life into the performances, begging the question of whether two-fifths of this band could eventually evolve into a very good tribute band once its old-timers call it a day. 

Chris Squire, Steve Howe and Alan White (only one of whom is an original member, though the latter two have been mainstays since 1971 and 1972, respectively) can still wow the audience with their obvious virtuosity, especially Howe, who I’ve never seen play more expertly.  His acoustic version of “To Be Over” never gets old, and it harkens back to a time when Yes’s creativity reigned supreme. 

Squire, whose large frame and tight pants offered a less-than-agreeable sight for the audience of approximately 500, can still dazzle with his trailblazing bass riffs, but he clearly struggled through the runs in “Machine Messiah,” the opening track from 1980’s Drama, an album which had been ignored in concert for nearly 30 years largely due to Jon Anderson’s pushback.  Still, there is no denying Squire’s greatness, though he never seems to tire of his very predictable shtick during “The Fish” and “Starship Trooper.”  I’ve seen the band six times in the last decade, and he does the same thing every time, hamming it up with the audience that supplies the adoration he so unabashedly craves.

Benoit’s vocals are pitch perfect and strong, and he exudes the enthusiasm befitting someone who just three years ago was singing in a tribute band.  Imagine one day being a minor novelty on Youtube, and the next touring with an iconic band.  The guy clearly has lots to be thankful for, and he commanded the stage with grace, never fretting even during those moments when he couldn’t hear himself.  A more reserved Wakeman was still fun to watch, and moreso than when I saw his father play in 2004, who by that time appeared to be phoning his performance in.

Yes’s set list has become a little less adventuresome on this tour, shelving the previous showstoppers, “South Side of the Sky,” and “And You And I,” as well as the more obscure, “Onward.”  And after watching Alan White pound his heart out for two hours, appearing spent by the end of the show, one gets the feeling that more adventurous songs like “Awaken,” “Perpetual Change” and “Heart of the Sunrise” might be forever relegated to archival footage from tours past.  The one track that surprised was the opening song, “Parallels” from Going for the One, a tune that hadn’t been played for over a decade (if memory serves).

Yes fans are a whole different breed, and I enjoyed meeting a few while waiting for the doors to open.  I met a man whose wife was clearly taking one for the team that evening, celebrating her husband’s birthday.  And a guy named Chris, who sported a shirt commemorating his favorite Yes album, Relayer, informed me that not only had he attended seven shows from Rush’s last tour, he even appeared in last summer’s documentary on the band.  It was good to meet you, Chris, and I’ll take up your band recommendations in the near future.

As for the House of Blues, it’s a terrific venue to watch a show, and I regret not having taken full advantage of this resource since moving to Chicago a decade ago.  This error in judgment will be corrected over the next decade.

In Defense of 80s Music (part two)

Like the 60s, the first three years of the 80s were really just an extension of the decade that preceded it, and for fans of more traditional rock and roll, these years alone might justify the entire decade.  During the first half of 1980 the albums from late 1979 dominated radio playlists: Pink Floyd – The Wall; Led Zeppelin – In through the Outdoor; The Charlie Daniel’s Band – “The Devil Went Down To Georgia” (but without the “son of a bitch” on AM).  But I distinctly remember hearing “Spirit of Radio” by Rush in the car one day along with “The Cradle Will Rock” by Van Halen – both 1980 releases – and you could do a hell of a lot worse than starting off a decade with those two.

In no particular order, allow me to rattle off a few albums that brought in the 80s not with a whimper, but with a bang (and yes, I fully admit up front that my white, suburban upbringing is the lens through which I view music).  You might not like all of these albums (I don’t) but there’s got to be something in this list that appeals to you.  These are all releases from 1980 to 1982.

The Cars – Panorama

Steely Dan – Gaucho

Bruce Springsteen – The River, Nebraska

Van Halen – Women and Children First, Fair Warning, Diver Down

Rush – Permanent Waves, Moving Pictures, Signals

Cheap Trick – All Shook Up

Peter Gabriel – Peter Grabriel III (or Melt)

John Lennon – Double Fantasy

Tom Petty – Hard Promises, Long After Dark

Rickie Lee Jones – Pirates

Talking Heads – Remain in Light

Journey – Departure, Escape

King Crimson – Discipline, Beat

Donald Fagen – The Nightfly

Rolling Stones – Emotional Rescue, Tattoo You

Elvis Costello – Get Happy!!, Trust, Imperial Bedroom

Joe Jackson – Beat Crazy, Jumpin’ Jive, Night and Day

Yes – Drama

Roxy Music  - Avalon

Paul Simon – Hearts and Bones

AC/DC – Back in Black, For Those About it Rock

Dire Straits – Making Movies, Love Over Gold

Prince – Dirty Mind, 1999

Michael Jackson – Thriller

The Police – Zeynatta Mondatta, Ghost in the Machine

Genesis – Duke, Abacab

Fleetwood Mac - Mirage

Heart – Bebe Le Strange

Pretenders – Pretenders I, Pretenders II

Billy Joel – Glass Houses, The Nylon Curtain

Don’t forget Devo also put out three albums to start off the 80s, Graham Parker kept up his prolific output, Supertramp released one album (Famous Last Words…), Squeeze put out three albums as did The Cure, The Replacements made their stunning debut, and oh, there was a little band from Ireland making a splash with the albums Boy and October.  Hell, even Paul McCartney put out one of his best albums, Tug of War, during this time period. 

Not a bad start to a decade. 

“Now wait a minute,” you might say.  “Let’s get to the heart of the decade.  You know, thin ties, bad hair, synth pop, pseudo-metal bands with big hair.  Surely, nothing good came out during this period.”

Or so our memories might have us believe.  One reader of my last blog entry commented that because the 80s included the start of MTV, the images planted in our brains from this time period are often visual.  I think that’s right on.  When I think 80s, I have a visual image of a thin-tied, feathered haired guy playing a keyboard.  But these years have so much more to offer.

Without further ado, here again in no particular order are just some of the many albums released from 1983 to 1989.  These might not be the albums that we think of when we think of the 1980s, but maybe they should be.

Paul Simon – Graceland

U2 – Unforgettable Fire, The Joshua Tree, Rattle and Hum

REM – holy crap.  Get a load of this output: Murmur, Reckoning, Fables of the Reconstruction, Lifes Rich Pageant, Document, Green

John (Cougar) Mellencamp – Uh-Huh, Scarecrow, The Lonesome Jubilee, Big Daddy

The Replacements – Let It Be, Tim, Pleased to Meet Me, Don’t Tell a Soul

Dire Straits – Brothers in Arms

10,000 Maniacs – In My Tribe, Blind Man’s Zoo, Our Time in Eden

BoDeans – Love & Hope & Sex & Dreams

Tinita Tikaram – Ancient Heart

Simple Mind – Once Upon a Time (perhaps my vote for album of the decade)

The Police – Synchronicity

XTC – Skylarking, Oranges and Lemons

Rickie Lee Jones – The Magazine, Flying Cowboys

Big Country – The Crossing, The Seer, Peace in our Time

Joe Jackson – Big World, Blaze of Glory

They Might Be Giants – They Might Be Giants, Lincoln

Randy Newman – Trouble in Paradise, Land of Dreams

Talking Heads – Speaking in Tongues, Little Creatures, Naked

Bruce Springsteen – Born in the USA, Tunnel of Love

King Crimson – Three of a Perfect Pair

Yes – 90125 (I’ll skip Big Generator)

Prince – Purple Rain, Around the World in a Day, Sign o’ the Times

Tom Petty – Southern Accents, Full Moon Fever

Van Halen – 1984, 5150, OU812

The Bears – The Bears, Rise and Shine

Graham Parker – The Mona Lisa’s Sister

Genesis – Genesis

Robbie Robertson – Robbie Robertson

The Cure – Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Disintegration

James Taylor – That’s Why I’m Here, Never Die Young

The Pursuit of Happiness – Love Junk

Elvis Costello – Punch the Clock, King of America, Blood & Chocolate, Spike

Sting – Dream of the Blue Turtles, Nothing like the Sun

Paul McCartney – Flowers in the Dirt

Peter Gabriel – Peter Gabriel IV (or Security), So

Bruce Hornsby – The Way it Is, Scenes from the Southside

Rush – Grace Under Pressure, Power Windows, Hold Your Fire, Presto

After I compiled this list, mostly from memory, I looked up the 100 greatest albums of the 1980s by Rolling Stone Magazine.  I think I mention 40 of the albums they put on their list, but you might want to scan what they consider the best of the decade (two of which came out in ’79.  What’s with that?).  They include artists that fall under synth pop and big hair bands that I purposely avoided, only because they already define the decade.

I’ve no doubt left off some great albums.  You might have noticed a dearth of female and African American artists.  An injustice, no doubt.  Set me straight.  Comment below and mention some of the artists and albums that I overlooked, and together, we can defend the 80s!

Since We're Talking About the 80s...the Retirement of a Musical King

I was going to bring you part two of my defense of the 80s this week, but then an 80s icon changed my plans.  On Saturday, musician Phil Collins announced his retirement, which is a funny thing for a musician to do.  It’s not as if there’s a need to make these things official; there wasn’t an impending tour to consider, and as far as I can tell, no one was exactly waiting with bated breath for his next release.  I suspect news of his retirement provoked about the same response as his release of Motown covers last year – a mere shrug of the shoulders.  But there’s no denying his past mastery of the pop music genre.  Even if his song “Susudio” makes you grimace, or if the ballad “A Groovy Kind of Love” makes you cringe, you’ve got to give it up for the man who reigned as Musical King during the 1980s.

One need look no further than Milwaukee’s own US Cellular Arena, known as MECCA back in the 1980s, to get an understanding of just how dominant Collins was back then.  MECCA was the place in Wisconsin for arena rock shows at the time: Kiss, ABBA, Rush, Van Halen, Queen, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen – they all came to MECCA back in the day.  And so did Phil Collins.  In fact, in 1983 alone, Collins graced the stage in Milwaukee three times: in February as a solo artist, in August as the drummer for Robert Plant’s first solo tour, and in November as the lead singer and drummer of Genesis – three shows with three different acts in the same calendar year, a mindboggling feat.  I don’t know if this had ever been done before or if it’s ever been done since, but one gets the feeling that Collins’s ex-wives might have had a strong case in their divorce settlements; the guy was clearly not home often.

In the 1980s, when Collins wasn’t recording, he was touring. When he wasn’t singing, he was drumming or producing.  In ten years, Collins gave us five Genesis albums and four solo albums. He recorded drums with Robert Plant, Peter Gabriel, Howard Jones and Paul McCartney, produced records for Phillip Bailey, Eric Clapton and Adam Ant, and contributed to three movie soundtracks, garnering two Oscar nominations.  He even helped to create a “signature sound” that others emulated for years: the now-classic gated-drum popularized in the song, “In the Air Tonight.”  And in 1985, Collins performed at Live Aid on two different continents in one day: first in London, and then – courtesy of the Concorde airliner – in Philadelphia, including a set as drummer for Led Zeppelin. 

In short, Phil Collins ruled the decade. 

His current health woes, which include nerve damage in his hands and a dislocated vertebra, have prompted him to finally leave the stage.  But as Brett Favre has shown us, retirement can be a fickle thing, and no more-so than with musicians.  After all, I attended Elton John’s farewell tour – in 1984.  Two years earlier I watched The Who’s final concert on HBO.  Who knows – Phil may be around again before it’s all over, whether we ask for it or not. 

But in the meantime, I wish Phil Collins a happy retirement, and if it IS indeed a permanent one, here’s hoping that one day Celine Dion does the same.

In Defense of 80s Music (part one)

Hold on to your seats.  This is a long entry.

When recalling the music of the past six decades, a span that includes rock and roll in all its permutations, certain artists probably come to mind.  The 1950s might conjure up images of Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, The Coasters and Jerry Lee Lewis.  The 1960s would have to include The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, but might also include Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, The Supremes, The Temptations, and the like.  The 1970s – my favorite decade by far – is a bit trickier: sure, it was the decade of Zeppelin and The Who (and the Stones, again), but also Elton John, Billy Joel, Joni Mitchell and James Taylor.  Or was it the decade of Yes, Genesis, ELP and Jethro Tull?  Or maybe all you really need to say is Stevie Wonder.  Or Fleetwood Mac.  And let’s not forget the influx of new talent in the latter part of the decade: The Cars, Elvis Costello, The Clash, The Police, Rickie Lee Jones, Van Halen, Joe Jackson, etc.

But something funny occurs when the 80s is mentioned.  Often, what comes to mind is either synth pop bands like Erasure, Howard Jones, Uh-huh, The Eurythmics, Duran Duran, Madonna, etc., or the big hair bands like Ratt, Motley Crue, Poison and the like.  Of course,  Michael Jackson needs to be included in your 80s recap, and let’s not forget the two blockbuster movies that encapsulate popular music of this time period pretty well: Flashdance and Footloose. 

If you’re a fan of big hair bands and synth pop bands, then you likely rate the 80s as a very good decade for music.  Good for you.  For those that don’t, the 80s might be considered a decade to loathe, invoking images of synthesizers, drum machines, narrow ties, short hair and loads of eye makeup that induce a sort of gag reflex in some people.

But hold on, because I’m here to defend 80s music, and I think I can do so convincingly. 

After reviewing the Billboard hits of the past sixty years, it’s apparent to me that for reasons not entirely understood, our opinion of decades past is skewed unfairly away from the 80s and unjustly toward the 60s and 50s. 

Disagree?  Have you listened to an Oldies station lately?  I have, and what amazes me is just how much crap these early decades had to offer.  Forgettable songs by forgettable bands.  We might remember the cream of the crop, but for every Elvis, The Beatles and Chuck Berry, there was a Pat Boone, Petula Clark and Peter, Paul and Mary (sorry, not a fan).

Take a look at the top 10 Billboard songs for 1961 (according to the website xerraire.com):

1. Tossin' And Turnin' - Bobby Lewis
2. Big Bad John - Jimmy Dean
3. Runway - Del Shannon
4. Wonderland By Night - Bert Kaempfert
5. Pony Time - Chubby Checker
6. The Lion Sleep Tonight - the Tokens
7. Blue Moon - the Marcels
8. Take Good Care of my Baby - Bobby Vee
9. Calcutta - Lawrence Welk
10. Runaround Sue – Dion

Not exactly a resounding endorsement of the 60s, is it? 

“Now wait a minute,” you might say.  “Fast forward a few years and let’s see what the 60s REALLY has to offer.” 

That’s a fair point.  Let’s look at 1967: 

1. To Sir With Love – Lulu
2. Daydream Believer - the Monkees
3. Windy - the Association
4. Ode To Billie Joe - Bobbie Gentry
5. Somethin' Stupid - Nancy & Frank Sinatra
6. Groovin' - Young Rascals
7. The Letter - the Box Tops
8. Light My Fire – Doors
9. Happy Together - the Turtles
10. Hello Goodbye - the Beatles

A little better list, I think, but not exactly stellar.   Where’s the Hendrix?  Cream?  The Stones? 

How about 1969?

1. Aquarious/Let The Sunshine In - 5th Dimension
2. In The Year 2525 (Exordium & Terminus) - Zager & Evans
3. Get Back - the Beatles
4. Sugar, Sugar - the Archies
5. Hony Tonk Women - Rolling Stones
6. Everyday People - Sly and the Family Stone
7. Dizzy - Tommy Roe
8. Wedding Bell Blues - 5th Dimension
9. I Can't Get Next To You – Temptations
10. Crimson And Clover - Tommy James and the Shondells

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere, but still…this is 1969!  The year of Woodstock.  The year of Tommy, CSN’s debut album, Abbey Road, Let It Bleed. 

I think the bottom line is this: when we recall the great music of decades past, we don’t necessarily recall the hits (or at least the really big hits); we recall the songs that still resonate today, and by that definition, many of the greatest songs ever written end up rising to the top regardless of their Billboard chart performance.  That’s as it should be.

But with the 80s, I think just the opposite occurs.  It seems that we remember ONLY the hits, and if you’re not a fan of Michael Jackson, George Michael, Madonna and Lionel Richie, then you might cringe or wince at the music from the Reagan years.

But you needn’t.  There was so much more to the decade that began with the US Hockey gold medal and ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall.  Next week, I’ll offer a defense to the decade of my teens: the 80s.  I think you’ll be convinced that very often, it was something to revere, not revile.