Run Away

So, I've decided to follow the lead of several of my favorite blogs.

Instead of being here, from now on, I'll be over there.

A Toast To Whiteray

Some time ago, I mentioned Roxy Music to a couple of co-workers, both older than me, one of them having spent ten years in the music industry.

That remark was met with a blank stare.

After spending ten minutes giving a rough history of the band, offering examples of their influence, and explaining their place in rock music, I realized my audience was unimpressed.

(with both Roxy Music and me)

There was a time when pretty much everyone in my orbit would have known of Roxy Music – whether they were fans or not. During my vagabond days working in record stores, the mention of Roxy Music would have prompted one friend to interject Brian Eno into the conversation.

The Drunken Frenchman would have regaled us with some tale – some more obscure than others - about Roxy Music, Brian Eno, or whatever artist that was the subject of debate and/or discussion.

(the experience of listening to rock and roll lore as told by The Frenchman was akin to what I imagine it to be like listening to an old mariner telling tales from the briny deep)

Sometimes passions flared, but it was a collective passion for music that was ever present.

Now, the deepest discussion I hear from co-workers about music revolves around some kid on American Idol performing Hallelujah with no knowledge of Leonard Cohen, who wrote the song, or Jeff Buckley, who put his indelible stamp on it.

It’s made the numerous blogs focused on music – and a wide variety of music – such a wonderful surrogate for a time when hour upon hour would be dedicated to similar banter among friends.

Which is why it’s disappointing to read that Whiteray, author of the wonderful Echoes In The Wind, is on, what I hope, will be a brief hiatus.

Like JB over at The Hits Just Keep Comin’ (as well as the other destinations to which I've provided links on your right), Whiteray has a knack for chronicling the music that has meant so much to him, doing so in a manner that is engaging, amusing, and informative.

It isn't even necessarily the music about which he wrote that made me a faithful reader. Though the music sometimes doesn't connect with me, his affection and enthusiasm for his subject matter is like listening to one of my friends from back in the day.

So, here’s hoping to read something from you soon, Whiteray. Morning coffee won’t be the same without you.

Here are some songs that were on Billboard’s chart this week in 1982, a time when my own love of music was taking root…

The Go-Go's - Vacation
from Vacation

The title song for The Go-Go's follow-up to their massive debut Beauty And The Beat is giddy beyond repair (even if it does detail the end of summer). Fittingly, the first time I heard it was blaring from the car radio on a family vacation.

Years later, I'd interview Go-Go guitarist Jane Weidlin which was a true highlight of my music journalism endeavors (such as they were).

Elton John - Blue Eyes
from Jump Up!

Sir Elton's output post-'70s has been a bit erratic. Of course, how could anyone have been expected to match the heights he did during his heyday?

I don't think I cared for Blue Eyes at the time, but, nearly three decades later, I never tire of hearing John croon this simple, uncluttered ballad.

Jackson Browne - Somebody's Baby
from Fast Times At Ridgemont High soundtrack

Fast Times At Ridgemont High was the movie for me and my friends in 1982 and was endlessly quoted. It also provided Jackson Browne with a song that was always on the radio late that summer.

Eddie Money - Think I'm In Love
from No Control

Eddie Money never aspired to reinvent fire. Instead, you knew that he was going to offer up straight-ahead, no-frills rock and roll, but, when he nailed it, he nailed it.

Few songs sounded better on the radio during the late summer of '82 than Think I'm In Love

Even Rock Stars Need A Hug Sometimes

It surely doesn’t suck to be a rock star.

You get to travel to exotic locales, demand waffles at any hour, and stay up as late as you want, as often as you want.

You also get a helicopter.

Having had the chance to meet or speak with some successful musicians, it’s still an abstraction to me to think of them dealing with the things – trivial or not - that we mere mortals must.

But even successful musicians, obviously, do have friction in their lives.

In 2002, I had the opportunity to interview Louie Perez of Los Lobos, coinciding with the band’s then new album Good Morning Aztlan. It was the perennially critically-acclaimed act’s third straight album on a different label.

Mammoth Records, which was issuing the release, would fold a couple years later.

Los Lobos had fifteen years separating them from their brief period of mainstream success with the music from the bio-pic La Bamba.

Since their last album, three years earlier, band member Cesar Rosas’ wife had been abducted and murdered.

As I interviewed Perez, he was courteous and pleasant, giving well-considered answers, but something seemed not quite right. I think I flat out asked him if he was OK.

He noted some of the adversity that the band had endured.

He sounded worn.

“But you’re in Los Lobos, man.”

(I think I actually said “man”)

“How cool is that?”

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” he agreed, seeming to be re-energized at the thought.

It’s not every day you get to cheer up an integral part of a truly great band.

Impossible to pigeon-hole, here are a handful of songs that hardly scratch the surface of the breadth of Los Lobos' catalog...

Los Lobos - Will The Wolf Survive
from How Will The Wolf Survive?

I remember knowing of Los Lobos through the glowing reviews when How Will The Wolf Survive? was released in 1984. And I remember hearing Will The Wolf Survive on Q95, an album-rock station which was among my staples at the time.

I didn't get it.

(some years later, I would finally catch up)

Los Lobos - Kiko And The Lavender Moon
from Kiko

Children of immigrants, Los Lobos cut their teeth, in the words of All Music Guide, "playing parties, wedding receptions, restaurants, bars, and anyplace else where someone might pay them for a gig" for a decade before finding success.

Drawing on the music of their Latino heritage, the band incorporated traditional folk, country, R&B, and rock into the mix with virtuoso musicianship.

In 1992, Los Lobos released Kiko, their collaboration with noted producer Mitchell Froom, and proved that they could do experimental rock as well as any of the modern rock bands of the period.

Los Lobos - Tony Y Maria
from Good Morning Aztlan

Before the grown-ups crashed the economy, the humans were hopping mad over illegal immigrants. Of course, there would be no work for illegal immigrants if the CEOs of companies hiring them would be held accountable, but that won't happen.

(now, of course, there's no work for anyone, so we're on our way to solving the illegal immigrant issue)

The lovely Tony Y Maria details the struggle of those illegal immigrants on a micro level and if you're not moved by the song, you're probably one of the multi-millionaire CEOs whose company exploits the cheap supply of labor from South of the border.

Los Lobos - The Word
from Good Morning Aztlan

Good Morning Aztlan found Los Lobos working with producer John Leckie, known for his work with bands like XTC, Radiohead, and Stone Roses. Not that the soulful The Word would remind a listener of any of those bands.

Instead, The Word simmers and soars, conjuring up the spirit of the socially conscious music of Marvin Gaye and Curtis Mayfield in the '70s.

It's intoxicating, thought-provoking, and altogether glorious.

Joe Theismann Has Never Made Me Want To Set Fires

I happened upon an NFL pre-season game on which Joe Theismann was doing commentary. I know that Theismann was quite the irritant for several friends during his years as part of ESPN’s Sunday night broadcasts.

I was mostly indifferent.

Sure, he’s a bit of a pompous blowhole, but spending three hours listening to his proclamations, once a week, actually held a certain charm to me.

However, one friend was so apoplectic over Theismann's broadcasting style that he once declared a desire to set him afire.

I found that to be a bit drastic.

Meanwhile, yesterday, I stole down to the parking lot for some quiet and a cigarette. I was thinking of some poll I’d read which questioned people as to what superhero power they’d most want to possess.

(I think invisibility and super strength were most cited)

I looked up to the fifth floor of our building and I thought how the superhero power I most wanted to possess was the ability to start fires telekinetically.

Apparently there is a tiny fire bug living inside me.

And, apparently, the stress of my job has done what Joe Theismann could not do and driven me to thoughts of pyromania.

Graham Parker - Get Started, Start A Fire
from The Mona Lisa's Sister

I know that Graham Parker is fairly well-regarded and I own a handful of his albums, but I've just never found his stuff to be all that memorable.

That said, I love Get Started, Start a Fire. Maybe that explains why, to Paloma's bemusement, I've inadvertantly bought three copies of The Mona Lisa's Sister on vinyl over the past year.

Shawn Colvin - Sunny Came Home
from A Few Small Repairs

I pretty much ignored A Few Small Repairs when it briefly made Shawn Colvin a superstar. It wasn't intentional.

Later, when I actually listened to Sunny Came Home, I was blown away.

It's safe to say that neither Joe Theismann or my office building would still be standing had Sunny been around.

Rolling Stones - Play With Fire
from Out of Our Heads

I freely admit that The Stones have been phoning it in for so long now that it has affected my view of them. And that makes it all the more astounding when something pre-Goats Head Soup pops up on the iPod.

Play With Fire is menacing which is something that The Stones once did as well as any band ever has.

The Thorns - I Set The World On Fire
from The Thorns

Matthew Sweet, Pete Droge, and Shawn Mullins - The Thorns had some alternative credentials individually when they got together for one lone album in 2003. The first song I heard from it was I Can't Remember and the obvious comparison was Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.

If I recall, the album didn't cause as much of a stir as I thought it might (or, more likely, had hoped it would). Too bad as it's well worthwhile.

Me And Bob Dylan

I think it was my friend Bosco introduced me to Bob Dylan.

(the music, not the man)

Bosco was the first of my friends to express an interest in Dylan.

The stations I had listened to as a kid were Top 40, album rock, and then modern rock. I don’t remember hearing Dylan on the radio in the first years I was listening to music.

I knew Dylan’s name from reading it in music magazines (though I was pronouncing it Dye-lan).

The first music I remember hearing from Dylan was when Infidels came out in autumn of 1983. 97X, which was my station of choice at the time, was playing Neighborhood Bully.

I think, then, I had little feeling one way or another about the song. It was Bob Dylan, this legend I had read about, but I was far more excited to hear 97X play Talking Heads’ Burning Down The House or Siouxsie & The Banshees’ cover of Dear Prudence.

Bosco often mentioned Dylan and Infidels. I’m not sure if he had previously been a big fan, but I imagine now it was Mark Knopfler’s involvement – Bosco was a big Dire Straits fan - that was the hook.

It must have been a couple years later, maybe our senior year, that Bosco apparently spoke to Dylan on the syndicated call-in show Rockline. I don’t recall what he asked Dylan, but it did pertain to some well-documented moment of his career.

I do remember what Dylan’s reply supposedly was.

“Well, I’ll tell ya, it’s been so long, I don’t remember.”

Meanwhile, the parents of another friend of ours claimed to have known a young Mr. Zimmerman, attending school with him, during his short stint at the University of Minnesota.

I haven't seen Bosco in twenty-five years, but I have listened to much more Dylan during those years. I don't have a subscription to Isis, but I have a far greater appreciation of the man and his place in history.

Bob Dylan - It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
from Bringing It All Back Home

Somber, bitter, melancholic, beautiful, haunting - It's All Over Now, Baby Blue is as hopeless as hopeless gets.

The song reminds me of Paloma as she turned me on to Roky Erickson and the 13th Floor Elevators' Easter Everywhere with their version of the song - simply titled Baby Blue - which Dylan has supposedly noted as his favorite.

Bob Dylan - Hurricane
from Desire

Hurricane is a riveting tale and a potent call for justice. For whatever reason, when I think of the song, I immediately hear Dylan howl, "He could have been champion of the world."

Bob Dylan - Jokerman
from Infidels

The first time I ever saw Bob Dylan live, it was at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. He walked out and his band immediately launched into Jokerman.

Afterwards, I bumped into a friend who had seen Dylan three-dozen times. He said it was the best performance of his that he'd ever seen.

I've always thought that evening - everything seemed to align - to be one of the more fortuitous things I've experienced.

Bob Dylan - Series Of Dreams
from The Bootleg Series

Dylan teamed with producer Daniel Lanois for 1989's Oh Mercy. It was the first album Dylan had released during my years as a music fan that resonated with me.

Series Of Dreams is a surging anthem that supposedly Lanois had hoped Dylan would put on Oh Mercy. It didn't make the cut, but it was released a few years later on The Bootleg Series.

I'd name it as one of my favorite Dylan songs.

Let's Make Money, Let's Grow Hair

Sally Struthers used to show up on my television, waddling amongst throngs of starving children in Third World countries. She also used to appear to inform me that we all want to make more money.

Aside from discovering oil (a la Jed Clampett), getting a government bail-out, or sitting on the board of Haliburton, there seems to be one thing that would make anyone wealthy beyond their wildest dreams...

...finding a cure for hair loss in men.

Aside from pills to abate maladies like restless legs and dry eyes, there is also an endless array of remedies bandied about by late-night television hucksters to achieve this end. Is such an elixir truly out of the grasp of modern medicine?

Hey, I'm no scientist (even though I do have a lab coat which doubles quite nicely as a robe), but it's 2009. How difficult can it be to grow hair?

It seems inconceivable when I think about my years as a single male and the times when I have had male roommates. In such situations, I have seen amazing things grow in unbelievable settings.

Seriously, a bachelor's living quarters is a science experiment onto itself.

I remember waking one morning in college, bleary-eyed, and stumbling into the kitchen for some Cocoa Puffs. Above the kitchen cabinets, a dark cloud of gnats flew in formation. I clambered onto the counter and peered above the cabinet to discover the source of their interest.

I found a large blob of brown matter which I ascertained had, in a previous life, been a bunch of bananas.

Another time, foraging for sustenance, I foolishly opened the bottom compartment of our refrigerator. There was nothing there but a two-inch thick colloid that could best be described as black Jell-O.

I went hungry.

OK. So reducing potassium-laden fruit to inedible bio hazard or creating a jiggly substance that would cause Bill Cosby to recoil isn't exactly splitting the atom, but it should illustrate my point - somewhere, in the wilds of some apartment inhabited by single men, hair is growing on something.

I know it.

All it takes is someone with the vision and intestinal fortitude to search - possibly in a kitchen, perhaps in some dank shower - for an item sprouting fuzzy, hair-like follicles where none were before.

Once such a miracle of life is uncovered, it's simply a matter of reverse engineering, submitting a patent application, and slapping a marketable name on your snake oil.

It's certainly a more direct path to amassing a small fortune than relying on a late-night infommercial degree in welding (no matter what Sally Struthers might contend).

The Who - Cut My Hair
from Quadrophenia

America - Sister Golden Hair
from Hearts

The Heads (with Ed Kowalczyk) - Indie Hair
from No Talking, Just Head

Everclear - Short Blonde Hair
from Songs From An American Movie, Vol. 2: Good Time For A Bad Attitude

I Suppose That You Had To Be There

There’s been a lot of hullabaloo regarding the 40th anniversary of Woodstock and there's been no shortage of fascinating stuff to read and view. Personally, I wasn’t even walking, yet, when the boomers threw that bash.

Until I was nine or ten, Woodstock was a bird, a Sundance Kid to Snoopy’s Butch Cassidy.

It was in the late ‘70s - maybe on the 10th anniversary - that I saw the documentary of the festival. I was only beginning to care about music, but I had little knowledge of the performers. I might have known the name Jimi Hendrix.

(and, given that admission of ignorance I am inclined to not belittle the cops in Jersey who had no idea that they had apprehended Bob Dylan, but, then again, what kind of cultural vacuum do you have to be living in to not know who Bob Dylan is?)

Anyhow, I do remember coming across Woodstock (the film) surfing through the half-dozen or so channels one Saturday night as a kid. Like Soylent Green, it was tagged with some kind of “mature audiences” disclaimer which, to state the obvious, made it must-see viewing.

(I suspect that whoever thought that those disclaimers would protect the children from potentially perilous material most likely wouldn’t be able to pick Bob Dylan out of a line-up)

So, I watched the movie and I might as well have been watching a National Geographic special on the indigenous people of New Guinea. No one really looked like anyone I knew and the music was equally inscrutable to my young ears. Through the years that followed, I learned more about the lore of Woodstock and the acts that performed that weekend.

But Woodstock never really connected to me. As for the legacy of the festival and what it all meant, there are folks far more qualified to comment on that subject.

I suppose, like most things in life, Woodstock was something for which you had to be there (and I wasn’t).

Here are a few songs by acts that were invited to perform but, for various reasons, weren’t there, either.

The Doors - Break On Through (To The Other Side)
from The Doors

The Byrds - So You Want to Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star
from Younger Than Yesterday

Bob Dylan - Maggie's Farm
from Bringing It All Back Home

Joni Mitchell - Woodstock
from Ladies Of The Canyon