RADIO HANNIBAL

Some Everly Brothers to keep you warm

Phil Everly died on Friday.  I spent the weekend listening to my collection of Everly Brothers material before diving into the massive collection on Spotify.  And I haven't had enough.

Over my musical life I've gone from being a casual fan of the Everly Brothers to a big one.  I'd heard most of the singles over the years but it was in 1980 that I began to delve deeper.  What spurred on the mining was Nick Lowe and Dave Edmund's short-lived band Rockpile.  Their album Seconds of Pleasure came out that year and has become, in my estimation, one of the great albums of all time.  The LP came with an EP which contained four Everly Brothers covers.  

Five years later, in 1985, I was at the Rubber Bowl in Akron watching Bob Dylan with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers and The Grateful Dead.  When the Dead left the stage the music of the Everly Brothers played while the stadium emptied.  I moved closer and closer to the stage as Phil and Don's soothing harmonies washed over me.  I was hooked.  I was lucky enough to see one of their reunion shows at the Front Row Theater a few years later.

If you've always been just a casual fan of the Everly Brothers, as I was, I'm hoping this might spur you on to dig deeper as well.  

Here's the boys early on singing one of my personal favorites, "Take A Message To Mary" and their first hit "Bird Dog".

And here's another early TV performance.

Finally, here's the famous 1983 reunion show at Royal Albert Hall in London. 

    

Paying honor to the departed, not being ghoulish

When a musician of note (pun intended) dies I post it on Facebook and Twitter.  Some say it makes me appear ghoulish while others dismiss it as too cliche. 

In my mind that's not the case at all.  I want to make people aware of the person's passing and help pay respect by remembering the music they gave us.  The music that will live on beyond their mortal years.  It's my way of honoring them. 

I bring this up because over the past week we lost Richie Havens and George Jones.  Two musicians who couldn't have been more different.  One was focused on the world, trying to make it a better place. The other was focused on himself, filled with self-destruction.  But I don't want to be the judge of character.  I want to remember them for the great music they created.  I want others to recall those songs with fondness too.  And maybe send up a little prayer. 

 

40 minutes of Richie Havens in concert

I hadn't realized just how well respected Richie Havens and his music were to people.  His passing yesterday showed an outpouring of appreciation from national media to local Cleveland musicians. 

On the NBC Nightly news Brian Williams called him an elegant man.  How perfect an adjective. 

Local musicians posted their respects on Facebook.  Matt Sobol had this to say, "The opening act...fantastic and who knew what was to follow. I think he was the third song on my uncle's Woodstock album...which I played a lot but the young me was too young to get what it was. God got a good one for the bill tonight."

Brent Kirby, Scene Magazine's singer of the year, who's been hiking the Grand Canyon posted
"Listening to Richie Havens as we head down from the Arizona mountains into Phoenix. We had already listened to him twice on the drives earlier this week. RIP Richie."  A nice coincidence that he and his hiking companion and producer were listening to Havens just recently.

Many other local musicians commented on Havens passing.  Enough to surprise me as to his impact on them.  Though he wasn't a particularly strong songwriter his voice and guitar styling went straight to the heart.  Listening to Havens' music warms the chilliest of souls.   

Here's a 40 minute compilation of some lost TV broadcasts that Havens had done. 

The day that Elvis died, 35 years ago today

It was the summer between the end of high school and the start of college for me.  It was a good summer.  Aren't all youthful summers good with little responsibility other than a temporary job. 

That summer of 1977 I delivered auto parts at Westgate Auto across from Westgate Mall.  They're both gone now.  I drove a beat up pick up truck until one day I was instructed to go down the street to Ed Stinn Chevrolet.  I figured it was to pick up a part.  Instead I was handed the keys to a brand new white El Camino. 

The rest of the summer I tooled around the western suburbs of Cleveland, dropping off brake pads, exhaust pipes and the like to repair shops.  The El Camino had no radio so I always brought along my radio. 

I've had a radio by my side as long as I can remember.  At this point in my life I'd moved from an AM transistor to a Panasonic FM/AM model with a large speaker.  It was a precursor to the boombox.  Here's what it looked like.

I'd walk the two miles to work, the radio slung over my shoulder.  It had a strap for this purpose.  I'd get the first delivery and load it into the back then place the radio next to me on the bench seat.  Back then you didn't need to scan the dial.  All radios were tuned to WMMS. 

When certain people die you remember where you were.  So it was on August 16, 1977 when Kid Leo told us that Elvis Presley had died.  The great thing about WMMS and their unique format was that paying tribute to Elvis through his music didn't really sound out of format at all. 

I wasn't a huge fan of Elvis at that time.  His latter day career with it's flambouyant jumpsuits covering an overweight body made it easy to dismiss his past glory.  Still, I knew his impact on rock and roll and Kid Leo honored it throughout the afternoon.  He was only 42, and the shockwaves were stronger than I'd ever imagined. 

Some musician friends of mine were talking one day and Elvis came up.  One of them dismissed him.  I think he even said Elvis sucks.  Some of us shook our heads, feeling sorry for his naivete.  If you're a musician and you don't have a little Elvis in you then hang it up. 

I made a playlist consisting of four songs from my favorite Elvis Presley album, From Elvis In Memphis along with numerous songs about Elvis from other artists. 

A Spotify musical tribute to Elvis, who died 35 years ago today

Adam Yauch's passing hits gen-xer's hard

As I sat in the audience at the Rock Hall induction ceremony last month and listened to Michael Diamond and Adam Horovitz give their acceptance speech, reading a letter from the absent Adam Yauch, I had a feeling things weren't looking good for the missing Beastie Boy.  It made his words, read by his band mates, all the more touching.   

There's plenty of the over 50 crowd who think of the Beastie Boys as some sort of novelty act.  That's understandable, given that their cartoonish debut and monster hit "(You Gotta)Fight For Your Right (To Party)" was insanely over the top.  But these three boys from Brooklyn had much more to say as they matured.  And while Yauch and the others rallied around serious causes they still kept that irreverence and buffoonery intact.  Truly an achievement in itself. 

I was talking with a friend last night about Yauch's passing and how it's had quite an impact on generation-x.  Many have said his death has touched them like no other had before, not even Kurt Cobain. 

That's because Cobain's death was self-inflicted.  There's others who've passed due to drug use and the like, but Yauch died of something beyond his control.  And that has brought a real sense of mortality to the generation right behind me.  

Reading message boards filled with memories and personal takes on what Yauch meant to these fans is very interesting and insightful.  As much as I was a fan of The Beastie Boys, having seen them warm up for Madonna on the Like a Virgin Tour at the same venue in which they were inducted, they weren't a touchstone for me.  Not in the way they were and still are for so many. 

As a late period baby boomer I say to these gen-xer's, welcome to the club.  You see now that our time is short here on earth.  Make the most of it and cherish every day. 

 

This Monkee's gone to heaven, a tribute to Davy Jones

I was in the San Juan airport when I opened up Facebook on my iPhone and saw that Davy Jones had died.  I don't know if it'll be one of those moments when you can recall where you were when you heard the news, but I was crushed at the moment. 

Someone said that Davy Jones' passing had upset them more than they'd expected.  That's because for men (or women) of a certain age it's a loss of innocence and our youth.  And if anyone epitomised youthful innocence it was Davy Jones.  Take a look at his screen test for the Monkees.

Now I regret even more the fact that the Monkee reunion was cut short last summer leaving me, and other Cleveland fans, with useless tickets.  I don't know if Davy was involved in the infighting that caused the reunion to crumble.  I find it hard to believe him to be anything but lovable.  I'll keep it that way.

Davy Jones was the first to record a Harry Nilsson song which enabled Nilsson to quit his day job and concentrate on music.  Here's that song.

Back in the late 90s U2 was on their Popmart tour.  Every night the Edge would take lead on a cover of The Monkees' "Daydream Believer".  One night, in Los Angles, Davy showed up to sing along with the masses. 

Davy Jones was a song and dance guy.  He played the Artful Dodger in a Broadway version of Oliver.  In fact he performed on the Ed Sullivan Show the same night that The Beatles appeared.  There's a bit of kismet.  Here he is showing off his talents in a scene from the psychedelic movie Head.

I'll finish the tribute with my favorite song that he sang lead on.  Oh, I love "Daydream Believer" too but this Neil Diamond penned song isn't as well known but should be. 

 

 

Schneider and Burrell, Two Producers, Two Obituaries That Music Fans Should Not Overlook

I was reading the New York Times yesterday and saw two obituaries that may be wrongfully overlooked by music fans.  They were two influential figures from diverse areas of the industry. 

Bert Schneider was mostly known for his work as a movie producer, most notably for Easy Rider and the anti-Vietnam War documentary, Hearts And Minds.  It was his early foray into film production that had an impact on music though. He was working in New York for Screen Gems, a division of Columbia when he came up with the idea for The Monkees.  If you read this blog then you know my passion for The Monkees.  Schneider was 78.

Philip Burrell died of a heart attack on December 3 in his hometown of Kingston, Jamaica.  Burrell was a record producer who fought hard to keep the roots reggae flag flying after the death of Bob Marley. 

When dancehall threatened to bury classic reggae music Burrell worked with artists like Half Pint, Luciano and Ini Kamoze to keep the spirit alive.  It was not just the beat but the positive vibration in the lyrics that Burrell was concerned with.  Burrell was only 57. 

 

Barry Feinstein, Rock Photographer Dies

One of the great rock photographers of the 1960s and 70's, Barry Feinstein, died yesterday at the age of 80.  Here's the obit from The LA Times, Barry Feinstein dies at 80; rock music photographer.

Feinstein photographed over 500 album covers as well as other iconic images in rock.  As they say, a picture paints a thousand words.  Here's some of his finest.

Rolling Stone Magazine's Tribute To Steve Jobs

My new issue of Rolling Stone magazine arrived a couple of days ago.  I've been a steady subscriber since I went away to prep school in 1974.  I remember my English teacher, Mr. Millar, declare the imminent death of the magazine when they secured it with staples.  Well, it still survives and I still enjoy it very much.  Particularly this new issue featuring a young Steve Jobs on the cover.

The feature story, "The Steve Jobs Nobody Knew, How an insecure hippie kid reinvented himself as a technological visionary and changed the world" is terrific.  It's just the kind of angle I'd expect from Rolling Stone.  

I'm also anxious to read authorized biographer Walter Isaccson's book Steve Jobs which comes out this Monday.  He'd been writing the bio for some years now.  This is no rush to print, slapped together account of Jobs. 

I've been playing my iPod on shuffle on occasion to recall the magic that Steve Jobs brought to my life.  Then I heard Bob Boilin on NPR's All Songs Considered do the same thing to kick off the show after Jobs passing.  It was totally random as the iPod began playing The Beatles "Free As A Bird".  That was just freaky.  Not only a perfect song for someone's passing but the whole Apple thing comes to mind.

Steve Jobs Changed The Way We Listen To Music

With the introduction of the iPod in 2003 Steve Jobs and his company, Apple, changed the way we listen to and purchase music.  His impact on music is profound.

Certainly we can bemoan the loss of quality in sound from an MP3.  What can't be denied is the fact that he turned people back on to music.  Peers of mine who all but abandoned the discovery of new music were drawn back in by the sleek and simple performance of a device so small you could put it in your pocket yet gave immediate access to one's entire music library.