Classic rock

Tell it like it is

Posted on March 14, 2026March 14, 2026 by Mike

At last. At long, fucking last.

KISS Legend Gene Simmons: Celebrities Shouldn’t Lecture Americans About Politics
Legendary KISS bassist Gene Simmons continues to serve as a voice of common sense and reason in an entertainment industry currently experiencing an epidemic of Trump Derangement Syndrome. I already count myself as a huge fan of the band, and I got the opportunity to see them on their last tour, which ended up becoming my son’s first concert experience. Imagine your first show being a KISS concert. What a time to be alive.

Actually, it just so happens that MY first show was a KISS concert as well: in 1976, that was, the CLT date on the band’s Destroyer tour. Somewhere around here, I should still have my advanced-ticket stub from that show, resplendent with the world-famous KISS logo and the price clearly visible underneath: a whopping six (6) bucks. Back over to Gene for more of this incredible story.

The KISS co-founder launched into his rebuke after TMZ asked how he felt about actor and director Ben Stiller calling out President Donald Trump’s White House for allegedly using a clip from one of his movies in a “propaganda machine.” The interviewers then asked the bassist with the world’s longest tongue what he thought about Hollywood stars criticizing Trump. In true rock star fashion, he didn’t hold back.

“Yeah, because everybody in the world should listen to what actors and comedians say — because they’re so qualified,” Simmons said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He then offered some pretty solid advice for stars in the entertainment field that they would do well to heed. “Basically, shut the f**k up. Do your art and shut up.”

Amen, brother! Look, celebrities can have their opinions on issues of the day. But when you work for the public — and they do — you should keep those thoughts to yourself and the people in your inner circle. Otherwise, you alienate your fanbase and hurt the work you’re trying to produce. We don’t need to hear your opinion on everything. Shocking, right?

Simmons then doubled down on his take, saying, “Nobody’s interested in your opinions — that includes me. Who the f**k do you think you are?”

The rocker added, “People in America work hard for their living and they don’t want to be lectured to by people who live in mansions and drive Rolls Royces.” This. So much this. The vast majority of celebrities are filthy rich and want for nothing. The rest of us “normal” people—the ones who form the spine of the country—have to work ourselves to death just to get by. We don’t want, nor do we need, out-of-touch celebrities telling us who to vote for or which issues matter. We already understand that.

“It’s time for everybody in the entertainment industry to shut their piehole and just do your art,” Simmons said. “Nobody cares what you think — I don’t.” Before the interview wrapped up, Simmons again mentioned Kylie Jenner and actor Mark Ruffalo with dripping sarcasm, highlighting how irrelevant their worldviews are to the public.

Well said, Mr Simmons, sir. The very last word, in accordance with Gene’s stated wishes.

I well remember that frabjous Thanksgiving day: the East Gaston High School band froze its collective keister off marching in the Carolinas Carrousel Parade, a seriously big deal for us in its own right, then everybody made a mad dash to get back on the buses, change back into street duds before we even got rolling, and scrambled on back to the dear old alma mater so we could race to our personal cars and zip back over to the big KISS concert at the old CLT Coliseum, for which the doors opened at 8PM.

Yes, you could fairly say KISS blew me away that night, why do you ask? 😉

Fare thee well

Posted on October 16, 2025October 17, 2025 by Mike

To Ace Frehley. founding member and for many years lead guitarist of KISS.

KISS founding member Ace Frehley dead at 74
KISS founding member reportedly suffered from a brain bleed last month

Jeezum H CROW, 74?!? Can that POSSIBLY be right? He’s actually, like, 35 or so, isn’t he?

KISS founding member Ace Frehley has died after suffering injuries from a fall last month. He was 74.

Frehley’s family confirmed his death to Fox News Digital.

“We are completely devastated and heartbroken. In his last moments, we were fortunate enough to have been able to surround him with loving, caring, peaceful words, thoughts, prayers and intentions as he left this earth,” the statement from his family said.

“We cherish all of his finest memories, his laughter, and celebrate his strengths and kindness that he bestowed upon others. The magnitude of his passing is of epic proportions, and beyond comprehension. Reflecting on all of his incredible life achievements, Ace’s memory will continue to live on forever!”

Well, if I have anything to say about it it damned sure will. Nothing personal here, but you can keep your Bruce Kulicks and your Vinny Vincents for all me—there’ll never be any other KISS lead guitarist but ACE as far as I’m concerned.

Inline update! Notice, if you will, at several points in the above solo Ace goes to the low-E string and it’s gotten so badly out of tune (flat, I mean) that he has to start pulling it hard sharp to make it sound right. Only a seriously good player would even think of such a stratagem in the heat of a high-pressure onstage moment. Which, Ace really WAS a much better guitarist than he ever got credit for being; there are quite a few clues to this home truth for those of us who know how to spot ‘em. In fact, only a seriously good player would be irritated enough by that one out-of-tune string to even think it needed addressing by anyone other than his guitar tech, after the solo and the song were over.

Farewell, Paul “Ace” Frehley, and thanks for everything.

Update! Annnnnd straight down a KISS rabbit hole I go.

Rabbit hole update! Yep, it’s a rabbit hole awright. A fun one, at least.

It’s always annoyed the hell out of me, how, whenever Ace goes into the solo, these cameramen cut to Paul Stanley and just sit there like knots on a friggin’ log. Never have understood that one, but they do it all the time, with just about every good band.

Which reminds me: a cpl-three days ago I ran across an interview with Bon Scott, wherein the interviewer asked him about AC/DC’s upcoming tour with KISS. Bon obliged, although he forgot the hell out of Gene Simmons’ name, calling him “Clint” or “Cliff” or some such. It was funny as all hell, I’ll have to see if I can’t dig that one up and attach it to this post.

Better days update! CARL Neiher Cliff nor Clint; it was Carl, dammit.

Pretty rarified circles the Bonny boy traveled in before dying too young, I must say.

Icky update! So I switch back over to the classical stream, click on “Play,” and what do I hear firsr thing but an ad for an upcoming show extolling the unbearable cacophonist Philip Glass and his amazing infuence on orchestral music. UGH! No sale, pally, it’s back to the KISS vids for me, thanks.

Not entirely wrong

Posted on September 4, 2025 by Mike

In the process of commending the Chicago video below to our attention, Lakeside Joe notes:

FYI: Jimi Hendrix thought Terry Kath of the band Chicago was a better guitarist than he was after seeing them perform at Whisky A Go Go in 1968.

Far be it from me to gainsay Jimi’s own considered opinion on the matter; I’ll content myself with saying it’s a tough call between two of the verymost badass guitarists of all time, and just leave it at that.

As is easy to tell from the vid, Kath, like all of the true greats, was an absolute tone MONSTER: knew all about what good tone was, where it came from, how to dial it up at will, and how to keep himself and his audiences luxuriating in it. Such a damnable shame that he, like so many others, had to leave us so soon.

Fare thee well

Posted on July 22, 2025July 23, 2025 by Mike

RIP to the incomparable Ozzy Osbiourne.

Black Sabbath legend Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness, dead at 76
Ozzy Osbourne, the legendary Prince of Darkness and one of heavy metal’s most iconic stars, has died. He was 76.

He died “surrounded by love,” his family said in a statement to The Post Tuesday. “It is with more sadness than mere words can convey that we have to report that our beloved Ozzy Osbourne has passed away this morning. He was with his family and surrounded by love. We ask everyone to respect our family privacy at this time. Sharon, Jack, Kelly, Aimee and Louis.”

News of Osbourne’s death comes more than five years after he announced his Parkinson’s disease diagnosis in January 2020.

Born John Michael Osbourne in Birmingham, England, on Dec. 3, 1948, he was nicknamed “Ozzy” in primary school.

He had a challenging childhood, but music provided him with an outlet.

Learning was difficult for him due to dyslexia, and the future Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee claimed to have been sexually abused by bullies when he was 11. He also recalled attempting suicide as a teen.

Osbourne credited The Beatles and their 1964 song “She Loves You” for inspiring him to pursue a music career.

Ozzy sold over 100 million albums as a solo artist and a member of Black Sabbath.

Here’s a 1970 vid in which Black Sabbath demonstrates what performers mean when they talk about leaving absolutely everything they have on the floor of the stage.

Rest easy, Ozzy. The world has never known another quite like you, and almost certainly never will again.

There’s good rockin’ tonight

Posted on July 3, 2025July 4, 2025 by Mike

Another blast from the musical past, this one starring the incredible Leslie West singing and playing lead guitar on his own original classic, which revolves around probably the tastiest rock guitar riff of all time.

I will forever be haunted by two (2) terrible regrets from my NYC years: 1) Never checking out Leslie West at any of the frequent small-club gigs he played in NYC aprés his illustrious career fronting Mountain, and 2) Likewise never troubling my sorry butt to go out and pay due and proper homage to pioneering guitar icon Les Paul at his own weekly NYC appearances at the Iridium, to which premises proud Les Paul owners from all over the world would tote their axes and form up in surprisingly orderly out-the-door-and-down-the-block queues to have Les personally sign the back of the body, the top, the pickguard, the back of the neck, the headstock, basically any surface roomy enough for him to write his name—no-charge autograph sessions on which Paul graciously spent long, wearing hours after wrapping up his set, making nary a murmur of complaint the whole while.

For further info and bare-knuckles analysis on how profoundly the Leo Fender/Les Paul competition reshaped our world, do yourself a HUGE favor and check out this tome: “The Birth of Loud: Leo Fender, Les Paul, and the Guitar-Pioneering Rivalry That Shaped Rock ‘n’ Roll.” I’ve had the ePub version on my phone ever since it first became available on Amazon Kindle, and have read it e-cover to e-cover way more than just once. If a well-written chronicle of the little-known, behind the scenes story of the guitars, the amplifiers, the brilliant men who created them, and how the fortuitously-timed confluence of those three factors transformed a musical genre derided in its infancy as just another teenybopper fad which would have no lasting significance into a cultural juggernaut whose powerful, pervasive influence gives every indication of being permanent is of even passing interest to you, you won’t go wrong by giving “The Birth of Loud” a read your own self, I assure you.

I offer no excuses for my unforgivable lassitude re: those aforementioned two regrets. Another fascinating chapter from the Mountain man’s eventful biography:

The story of Leslie West’s jam session with Jimi Hendrix
The guitarist Leslie West was a fundamental part of Mountain‘s sound, one of the most influential bands from the late 60s and early 70s. With famous songs like “Mississippi Queen” and “Never In My Life” they were the American response to the incredible Hard Rock movement that was happening in the United Kingdom.

During his career the guitar player had the chance to meet many incredible musicians, including Jimi Hendrix, who died in 1970 at the age of 27.

West recalled this incredible experience in an interview with Classic Rock, after releasing his final album “Soundcheck” in 2015. “Jimi came into this nightclub in New York at, like, one in the morning. I happened to be there to see Steve Miller, who had finished and left. I’d already met Jimi in the studio at the Record Plant – we were doing Climbing! and he was doing Band Of Gypsys – so we knew each other. He came over to me and said, ‘Wanna jam, man?’ Just like that. We didn’t have any equipment there, but we had a loft about 13 blocks away, in a real deserted part of Manhattan, 36th Street, 11th Avenue.”

“So Jimi said, ‘Well, let’s get in my limo.’ My road manager lived in the loft, so we woke him up at two in the morning. He came down and opened the door and who’s standing there but Jimi Hendrix. He nearly had a heart attack. We went upstairs and we jammed, Jimi was playing bass and I was playing guitar. We just seemed to hit it off. But I think Jimi could have played with anybody. He just loved playing, and he was so cool as a guy. That’s my favourite memory of him.”

West covered a few Hendrix tracks during his career, including “Red House”. Mountain was formed in Long Island, New York back in 1969 by Leslie West, Felix Pappalardi, Steve Knight and N. D. Smart.

The article includes a video embed of said “Red House” cover—always one of my absolute favorite Hendrix tunes, which if I remember right may have been a cover its own self, an old blues chestnut copped by Hendrix and reimagined as only James Marshall Hendrix could bring off. Although this post says I’m all wet on that one.

Update! Oh, what the heck was I thinking, not going ahead and including this one also after mentioning it in such glowing terms?

This is the version I grew up listening to, off the album I had when I was but a wee bairn. There are lots of excellent live versions out there too, but I still like this rendition most. For one thing, having played and replayed the song myself so danged many times, on record and guitar both, hearing Jimi stray from the exact notes I’m accustomed to hearing him play during the opening solo is the aural equivalent of a Sykes-Fairbairn knife through the eardrum at this point.

Which, at least in all the Yew Toob vids of live “Red House” performances I’ve seen to date, the man never played that bit the same way twice; it’s different each and every time.

D-Purp RAWKS!

Posted on April 15, 2025April 15, 2025 by Mike

For some bizarre reason, Doof elected to embed the milder, tamer studio version of Deep Purple’s crowning achievement, “Highway Star.” This inexplicable lapse has forced my hand; there’s nothing else for it but to showcase the best-EVAR version, from the greatest live album in rock ’n’ roll history: the incomparable, nigh-flawless Made In Japan.

I find this video double-plus awesome because the guy had gumption enoughl to take a stab at syncing up the Made In Japan audio track with video footage from the Live In Copenhagen DVD, which he did a bang-up job of too, IMHO. Regarding the Made In Japan album, what’s there to say? It still brings classic 70s hard-rock aficionados nearly to tears of joy with every successive listen. No overdubs whatsoever; recorded on a half-assed, el cheapo recording/mixing lashup (8 track? Dude, SRSLY?); an apathetic, indifferent attitude towards the project from the band members—who could possibly expect anything remotely good to come of this incipient disaster?

Then the album dropped, and a waiting world hardly even knew what hit it. Check it:

The band had mixed feelings about the album. Gillan was critical of his own performance, yet impressed with the quality of the recording, while Lord listed it as his favourite Deep Purple album, saying, “The band was at the height of its powers. That album was the epitome of what we stood for in those days.” “It’s still probably the best live rock ‘n’ roll album ever made,” declared Paice, who suggested that the shows were some of the group’s best. “And that’s putting everything Led Zeppelin have done, anything Black Sabbath may have done, Bad Company, Free… As a tour de force of innovation and living on the edge and great playing with a fantastic sound, nothing comes close.”

The response from critics was favourable. Rolling Stone’s Jon Tiven wrote that “Made in Japan is Purple’s definitive metal monster, a spark-filled execution … Deep Purple can still cut the mustard in concert”. Subsequently, a 2012 readers’ poll in the magazine declared the album to be the sixth best live album of all time, adding the band have performed “countless shows since in countless permutations, but they’ve never sounded quite this perfect.”

Recent reviews have been equally positive. AllMusic’s William Ruhlmann considered the album to be “a definitive treatment of the band’s catalog and its most impressive album”. Rock author Daniel Bukszpan claimed the album is “widely acknowledged as one of the greatest live albums of all time”. Goldmine magazine said the album “defined Deep Purple even as it redefined the concept of the live album.” Deep Purple author Dave Thompson wrote “the standing of Deep Purple’s first (and finest) live album had scarcely diminished in the quarter-century since its release”.

Myself, I bought …Japan at my uncle’s drugstore in 1974, when I was all of 14 years old. I loved it then, I still love it now, and across all the intervening decades (!) have neither stopped playing it nor gotten tired of hearing it. Drop the needle anywhere you like, you won’t be disappointed; there’s not a dud song or performance to be found. Incredibly, the allocated recording budget for D-Purp’s magnum opus was a measly $3,000, which trifling sum translated to £49,995 as of 2023.

As time rolled ever on, a major label would blandly shell out a few hundred G’s just to have an upper-tier band hump their gear into the tracking room without so much as batting an eyelash. Now, with the lightning-fast proliferation of PCs, digital recording, and affordable home-studio equipment, the music-biz landscape has undergone yet another radical shift.

As for Made In Japan, all in all it’s pretty dang impressive for an album that still enjoys brisk sales today, as it has throughout the 50-plus years since its initial release. Looked at from that angle, “impressive” doesn’t even BEGUN to cover it, wouldn’tcha say?

Short and Sweet for The Last Day of 2024

Posted on December 31, 2024 by Barry

No comment needed
Beauty in Australia

America Pie in your eye

Posted on August 22, 2024August 22, 2024 by Mike

Don McLean likes these red pills very much, thanks.

Don McLean Claims ‘American Pie’ Predicted ‘Woke Bulls—’ Culture
Don McLean has no time for what he describes as “woke bullshit,” adding that it’s the kind of societal issue he conveyed in his 1971 classic “American Pie.”

“The song really does open up a whole historical question about what happened in the ’60s and assassinations and the history that forms the backbone of the song as it moves forward,” the rocker explained during a recent interview with Metro. “This song talks about the fact that things are going somewhat in the wrong direction, and I think that they’re still going in the wrong direction. I think most people looking at America now kind of think that too.”

The rock legend then went on to draw a line between the issues portrayed in “American Pie” and the current climate in the U.S.A.

“I mean, we certainly have a wonderful country, and we do wonderful things, but we also are in the middle of all this woke bullshit,” he declared. “All this other stuff that there is absolutely no point to, as far as I can see, other than to undermine people’s beliefs in the country. That’s very bad.”

It’s a short article, of which you should read the etc. The Tunedamage embed here couldn’t be more obvious, I shouldn’t think. CF greybeards probably think you’ve heard the song enough times and to spare by now, but give it a listen anyway, all eight and a half minutes of it—I betcha you’ll find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would, tapping your toes and singing along before the second damned verse is finished. You young whippersnappers who wandered in here by mistake and haven’t heard it, on the other hand, need to get your ears on and learn a little something worth the knowing, by Gad.

Seriously wonderful stuff, whatever McLean’s politics might be. Regardless of how many times I’ve heard it (to this day I still have every word of the lyrics memorized, you do the math) it still tightens my throat up in spots.

NOTE: Now crossposted at Bill’s place as well, for reasons which shall become obvious if you click on over there.

The end of an era

Posted on August 4, 2024August 4, 2024 by Mike

Aerosmith draws the line.

Aerosmith Retires from Touring After Steven Tyler’s Permanent Vocal Cord Damage
LOS ANGELES (AP) — Aerosmith says Steven Tyler’s voice has been permanently damaged by a vocal cord injury last year and the band will no longer tour.

Last YEAR? My God man, have you ever even heard the band? Tyler’s whole career has been nothing but one long vocal injury.

The iconic band behind hits like “Love in an Elevator” and “Livin’ on the Edge” posted a statement Friday announcing the cancellation of remaining dates on its tour and provided an update on Tyler’s voice.

“He has spent months tirelessly working on getting his voice to where it was before his injury. We’ve seen him struggling despite having the best medical team by his side. Sadly, it is clear, that a full recovery from his vocal injury is not possible,” the statement said. “We have made a heartbreaking and difficult, but necessary, decision — as a band of brothers — to retire from the touring stage.”

Tyler announced he injured his vocal cords in September during a show on its Peace Out: The Farewell Tour. Tyler said in an Instagram statement at the time that the injury caused bleeding but that he hoped the band would be back after postponing a few shows.

Tyler’s soaring vocals have powered Aerosmith’s massive catalog of hits since its formation in 1970, including “Dream On,” “Walk This Way” and “Sweet Emotion.” They were near the start of a 40-date farewell tour when Tyler was injured.

“We’ve always wanted to blow your mind when performing. As you know, Steven’s voice is an instrument like no other,” the band said in Friday’s statement to fans.

“It has been the honor of our lives to have our music become part of yours,” the band said. “In every club, on every massive tour and at moments grand and private you have given us a place in the soundtrack of your lives.”

I was fortunate enough to see Aerosmith back in my misspent youth around ’78-’79 or thereabouts, playing at the Old Coliseum I was gassing interminably on about the other day. In those days, Tyler and Joe Perry were known as the Toxic Twins, a moniker they earned many times over across their drinking, drugging, and womanizing days. As great as the music they churned out was back then, it must be said that some of Aerosmith’s very best work was achieved in the years after the Twins had kicked their multifarious bad habits, culminating in the chart-topper I once heard called by an Aerosmith documentary narrator “Steven Tyler’s masterpiece,” to wit:

And of course, when you read my opening line, you just KNEW what was coming, din’tcha?

Holy crap, is that one of those plastic Dan Armstrong pieces o’ crap Perry is playing in lieu of his habitual Les Paul Black Beauty or BC Rich Mockingbird in that one?

And my kids they just don’t understand me at all

Posted on July 31, 2024July 31, 2024 by Mike

The subject of today’s guitar lesson for my friend’s son is a rendition of a classic Jagger-Richards tune I still like well enough to feel it’s worth dropping in here.

Update! As I’m fond of saying, one great old KISS song deserves another.

One of the least-appreciated KISS facts I know of is that they were one of the very finest purveyors of catchy, tuneful pure-pop confections like the above since the glorious heyday of Tin Pan Alley. If you’re at all interested, the original studio version of “Let Me Know” closes out with a thrilling moment of barbershop quartet-style harmonizing that, for some odd reason, none of the live versions I’ve come across includes. Passing strange, that omission is, seeing as how flawlessly competent they’ve proved themselves to be re four-part close harmony over lo, these many years.

I fall to pieces

Posted on June 1, 2024June 2, 2024 by Mike

Had a phone convo with the ex-wife earlier, wherein I inquired whether she might have any thoughts or feelings on this fantastic song.

Like her former hubby and our amazing daughter (15 in August—FIFTEEN!—Heaven help me, has it really been that long?), Suzie is also a hugely talented multi-instrumentalist, hence my curiosity regarding her opinion of the tune, if any. Never having been much of a CSN fan herself (she’s a lot younger than me, I mean a LOT, so it was well before her time), she couldn’t really remember it, so I sung a few lines over the phone for her, thereby unveiling the powerful emotional effect it’s had on me since the very first time I heard it, back when it was originally released in the late 70s/early 80s.

Y’know, when dinosaurs ruled the Earth. In days of old, when knights were bold, and condoms not invented.

See, whenever I hear “Southern Cross” on the car-raygia, I crank the volume way the hell up and sing along with the low-tenor part of the arrangement, as sung by…who, Steven Stills, maybe? Or Graham Nash? DEFINITELY not scraggly old David Crosby, I know that much. Which works out just fine and is a lot of fun, right up until they/we get to the “I have my ship/And all the flags are a-flying/She is all that I have left/And Music is her name” stanzas.

And that’s when I always just lose it completely: my throat closes, my eyes sting and burn, I feel my heart shatter inside my chest, and I have to struggle mightily not to burst into tears and sob like a itty-bitty baby—sometimes successfully, usually not—every single last time, even after all these years. Don’t ask me why, I’ve never understood it myself. Admittedly, there are a few others that hit me deep inside hard, make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and raise goose-bumps on my forearms, and can even choke me up like that sometimes, particularly certain Classical and Romantic-era pieces. But for whatever reason, “Southern Cross” is by far the worst of the lot, and has done it to me Every. Single. Time.

Such was the case day before yesterday, when I heard it played again for the first time in I don’t know when. I halfway thought that, being older, presumably wiser, and out of the music-biz game altogether for nigh on a decade now (which beggars belief for me, I must say), I might have developed an at least partial immunity to falling completely apart at those lines by now. WRONG-O, boy-o! I tootled along with nary a hitch when, all of a sudden-like, at “She is all that I have left,” the same old feeling of overwhelming sadness and inexpressible grief flew all over me again.

It being a glorious day out—warm but not hot, cloudless sky, low humidity, gentle breeze—I had my windows cranked all the way down, as did the girl sitting next to me at the stoplight. So naturally, the poor dear gawped in affrighted wonderment and concern at the bizarre spectacle of this broken-down, crippled old relic at the wheel of the bashed, smashed, ’n’ trashed Burick Grampamobile© flivver alongside her in the right lane, going all kerblooey for no apparent reason as he attempted a sing-along with some stupid Oldie-but-Mouldy she’d never heard the likes of before in a cracking, wavering, old-man warble—what, something-something about a ship, and flags, and an ocean, and some islands or some other such ancient tripe-o-la. Mighta been a long-gone lover in there with the rest of it too, who knows. Or cares.

I mean, this girl clearly didn’t know whether to shit, go blind, throw rocks and head for the hills, or call for a fucking hearse to come sweep up the remains and cart ‘em off to the morgue where they belong. I laid off singing, smiled and waved cheerily at the startled young ‘un, then took off like a scared rabbit when the light finally went green again. When I was safely back home, I pulled up the vid on YewToob and started putting this post together.

Some things never change, I guess.

UNEXPECTED!

Posted on April 27, 2024April 27, 2024 by Mike

Okay, so I’ve never been much of a Rod Stewart fan, I do admit it. Even his supposedly legendary stuff with the Faces was kind of, ummm, meh for me. As for the Disco Rod era…well, the less said about that, the better. “Maggie May,” “Hot Legs,” “You Wear It Well” I like, maybe a couple others. The rest of it, not so much, frankly.

But after tonight, Rod Stewart is a-okay with me.

See, there’s a local FM radio station, 95.7 (The Ride), which on Saturday nights plays recent “Live In Concert” recordings by two, sometimes three artists. It’s almost always a good listen, even when I don’t really care for the band or artist in question. So it was with this evening’s broadcast, featuring Rod Stewart as the “headline” performer. Not so much for the music itself, as for the between-songs patter.

First, Stewart brought his old Faces PiMC (Partner in Musical Crime), grizzled guitarist Ron Wood—now sharing guitarslinging duties with Keith Richards as a Rolling Stone—to the center-stage mic to be introduced to the howling throng. This tour was by way of being Old Home Week for the pair, reuniting them after many years of not playing together.

So Wood makes a crack about his and Stewart’s famously-oversized schnozzes, to which Stewart shot back brilliantly: “Yeah, you’ll notice tonight that we always stay on opposite sides of the stage from each other. That’s because when we stand back to back, we look like a pickaxe.”

Love Stewart or hate him, that’s pretty dang funny right there. But wait, it gets better still.

A few tunes later on, Rod’s stage patter went as follows:

“I’d like to dedicate this next song to our wonderful military personnel all over the world. Iraq, Afghanistan, anywhere else: whether you think they should be there or not, they’re out there fighting for all of us, risking everything for us and for our freedom. God bless them all!”

I was gobsmacked. Also highly, highly impressed. IMNSHO, Rod Stewart expressed it about as perfectly as anyone possibly could have, without the sentiment either coming across as mindlessly jingoistic, condescending, or in any way just an obsequious pander to Mark-1 Mod-0 shitlib pseudo-peacenick pacifism, with which his concert audience just about had to be packed to the rafters.

A welcome change from the obnoxious Leftist sermonizing we’ve come to expect from entertainers these days, rock stars especially. Perhaps I’m full of shit, perhaps not, but the feeling I got from his words was sincere and heartfelt gratitude, and I gained a new respect for Rod Stewart as a result. So hats off to the man, I say. I still ain’t crazy about most of his musical output, but from here on out Rod’s all right as far as I’m concerned.

No Tune Damage embed, though; I got big plans for that later on, or mebbe tomorrow, we’ll see.

New band

Posted on March 12, 2024March 12, 2024 by Mike

Well, supergroup, really.

With an all-star lineup like this, how could they possibly fail to rocket to the top of every chart and stay there? Well, except for one sad impediment, as Glenn explains: “ONLY TWO OUT OF THE THREE CAN STILL REMEMBER THE LYRICS.” Heh. Indeed.

The greatest story ever told

Posted on March 9, 2024March 9, 2024 by Mike

When it comes to guitars, at any rate.

“So many people lost their guitars. I lost 44”: Peter Frampton recalls how he lost and recovered guitars through floods and plane crashes as he shows off his eye-watering gear collection on Gibson TV
Gibson TV has released its latest episode of The Collection – a web series that sees the firm sit down with big name players to pick apart their vintage guitar gear, and reflect on the stories behind each historic piece.

For its newest hour-and-a-half installment, Gibson’s Mark Agnesi visited Peter Frampton to explore the guitars behind some of his most iconic cuts – as well as recount the tales of loss and recovery that have defined the rock master’s collecting career.

As far as guitar collections go, Frampton’s is especially steeped in history. Not only did he effectively have to restart his guitar collection after losing 44 individual guitars – and numerous pieces of other gear – in a flood in 2010, he also experienced what has become one of the most famous tales of lost-and-found guitars in history.

To that end, the most notable instruments in Frampton’s episode of The Collection are the ones whose histories are interwoven with such stories.

The “Phenix”, for example, takes center stage. The mid-’50s era triple-humbucker Black Beauty Les Paul Custom needs no introduction: as seen on the cover of Frampton Comes Alive!, it is one of the most iconic Les Pauls of all time, and made its way on “just about every track [Frampton] recorded between 1970 and 1980”.

However, in 1980, the “Phenix” went down in a cargo aircraft – which crashed while taking off from Curaçao – and it was believed to have been lost forever. Miraculously, 31 years later, the Les Paul was reunited with its rightful owner after it had been picked up and played over the years by a local musician.

“It was just one of the best feelings in the world,” Frampton recalls of being reunited with the “Phenix”.

Yeah, I just bet it was at that. What a great, heart-warming story, eh? You gotta love it. Didn’t watch the vid, because I almost never do, but I have a sneaking suspicion I may be making an exception in this case.

(Via Lonesome Ed Driscoll)

On Buddy Preston and Billy Miles

Posted on October 4, 2023October 4, 2023 by Mike

In a comment to this post, AWM helpfully reminded me of something I already knew:

That’s Billy Preston, not Buddy Miles. I know, they all look alike…..

To which I responded with this:

Heh. Yeah, I was just kidding around with that one, hence the big buildup before the vid. I’d just been listening to some Buddy Miles earlier, and the strong physical resemblance between the two–especially the classic 60s/70s Nee-grow coifs and cool threads, duuuuude–kinda struck me as funny. No racial slurs or anything intended (this time–AHEM), they’re both fine musicians and I love their stuff, which in the end is all that matters to me.

My thanks to AWM, whose good intentions provided me with an unassailable excuse to repost this:

Man, ain’t never the wrong time to rock out on that fat, butt-rocking-good groove, if you ask me. One of the very best rock ‘n’ soul/jazz/R&B crossover hits the era ever gave us, in my opinion.

Them Changes is an album by American artist Buddy Miles, released in June 1970. It reached number 8 on the 1970 Jazz Albums chart, number 35 on the Billboard 200 and number 14 on the 1971 R&B albums charts.

Reception
Writing for Allmusic, music critic Steve Kurutz called the album “quite simply, one of the great lost treasures of soul inspired rock music…definitely worth the extra effort to try to locate.” Conversely, Robert Christgau wrote “His singing is too thin to carry two consecutive cuts, his drumming has to be exploited by subtler musicians, and the title cut is the only decent song he ever wrote.”

Yeah, well, y’know, Robert fucking Christgau. He always was a consummate bitch-ass little prick, according to all I’ve heard from people in a position to know firsthand. Now the NYT’s longtime lead music crit, Jon Pareles, on the other hand…

Pareles BPs

A-HENH! That blurb was just one of the first of quite a few favorable reviews Parales went on to bestow on us, from which you can easily discern that here was a man who knew what the fuck he was talking about.

Anyway, to press ”ESC” on the self-congratulory digression and get back on-topic: It just kills me how, given the way classic-rock stations keep spinning the same well-worn old tunes over and over and over—many of which I do love, mind, but I mean really now, COME ON!—somehow you never, ever hear this one. It’s as if programmers, DJs, and/or station managers are completely unaware that these great artists actually recorded and released a helluva lot more material than just the five or six all-too-familiar songs they’ve boiled entire careers’ worth of output down to and are even now running into the fucking ground. I just don’t get it, I really don’t.

Update! What the hey, one golden musical memory from my childhood deserves another, right?

Buddy Miles, as I’m sure y’all know, filled the pounding-skins slot for Jimi Hendrix (among other notables) for a goodish while there. Preston, for his part, worked the 88s for pretty much everybody who was anybody in the classic-rock days. Wrote or co-wrote a fair few hit songs recorded by other artists, too; pretty much anyplace you looked on the Billboard Hot 100 in the late 60s/early 70s, there ol’ Billy Preston would be. God bless ‘em both, sayeth I.

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