Ain't superstitious, but these things I've seen...
Innerworkings and hiddentrappings of a mind left waiting at the intersection of Life and Music.
"Okay, Todd, you go right ahead and enjoy that stick and coffee can."
What better way to welcome back the working week (after a long weekend and a Bears loss) than with a little bit of rhythmic anarchy?
Todd Rundgren's "Bang on the Drum All Day" is, by all accounts and measures, a pretty damn kitschy song, but taken in its entirety every now and again - it can be rather fun. It's pretty much permeated the sports world since its release, becoming celebratory music for both NFL and NBA teams during games. I heard rumors that it was actually used by the Green Bay Packers to such an extent that it became an unofficial anthem for the team.
This disheartened me so much that I nearly gave up on posting the song.
It also found its way into hundreds of television and radio commercials throughout the 1980s and 1990s, and why not, it's a catchy song, and if you wanna call him a sellout, fine - I'm sure he'll take it well, sitting on the piles of cash the sale must have brought in.
I just like it because I think it's hilarious.
Pushing aside toys and candy as a toddler for a stick and coffee can and running home from work to air out aggression on a jerk of a boss? I think we can all relate. But the best part is, hands down, the second verse.
When I get older, they think I'm a fool
The teacher told me I should stay after school
She caught me pounding on the desk with my hands
But my licks were so hot, I made the teacher want to dance...
That, my friends, is what it's all about. Besides creating an entertaining-as-hell visual, who among us has not wanted to exact that kind of sweet revenge at some point in their lives?
The track fell into the 7 spot on Rundgren's 1983 album , which rather pointlessly included a cover of the Small Faces' "Tin Soldier.
" Rundgren should get mega points for conceding Small Faces fandom there, though it might all be lost in the blasphemy of believing it was a worthwhile exercise to outdo the Small Faces treatment, let alone Steve Marriott's vocal.
But at least it had "Bang on the Drum All Day." I wanted to make sure I wasn't relenting any musical credo by putting this song up and declaring my love for it, so I asked my friend John what he thought of the song.
He answered in a typically hilarious fashion.
"Maybe I liked it when I was 8," he said. "But now I just can't help but think how irresponsible the whole premise is.
"
Point taken. But it must be noted that he said this after complaing about having to go back to work today. So come on, John.
..
PS - I got notice that the links for the Traveling Wilburys' "Nobody's Child" and Gladys Knight and the Pips' "It's Time To Go Now" were not working for some readers, most likely on account of the apostrophes in their titles screwing up the links.
I've reupped them without apostrophes in the file name, so if you couldn't get them before, you can scroll down and get them now. If you could get them before..
. then why'd you keep reading this postscript?
I spent a lot of time growing up doing my best to reject Steely Dan.
My father, like everyone's father, loves Steely Dan, and considering his unshakeable preference for "road trip" vacations while my sister and I were growing up, it meant that a lot of the time in the car was spent absorbing , and , whether we liked it or not.
My sister still hates Steely Dan and has been all the more disappointed in me since I relented and crossed over to the dark, prog jazz side shortly before I left for college. I don't remember exactly what the catalyst was, I know it's not that I woke up one morning and said, "I like Steely Dan now," but I might be able to pin it on Old Navy.
Believe it or not, Old Navy's been instrumental in quite a few important musical discoveries in my lifetime, and I think I'll pay due to that in another blog post sometime. I don't know that I was shopping for myself (I hardly ever was in high school), or if I was just along with some girls for a Saturday out. But I remember being in Old Navy and "Peg" was played over the store's sound system.
Now, I'd heard that song countless times before on the roads that stretched from Chicago to Tampa to Pensacola and back again, but for some reason, Old Navy just made that song make sense. I stood there, looking at performance fleece, and listening to this story about a flash-in-the-pan starlet and her lovesick devoted man clinging on to her letters and encouraging her on. "F*cking brilliant," I remember saying to myself.
Ever since, I've been one of the band's biggest proponents.
Despite my dad's huge love for Donald and Walter, he's never managed to see them live - so 1995's was kind of a big deal for him because it gave him a vague idea of what the band sounded like live..
. albeit pouring out of the speakers of his Chrysler LeBaron convertible. This cassette - yes, we had it on cassette, cos cars with CD players simply didn't come along to our family until about 1999 - quickly got added to the road trip play list, and as this was prior to my Old Navy conversion, I found it to be another rather annoying collection, though there was always one tune I managed to tolerate.
"Book of Liars" actually made it's first debut on Walter Becker's 1994 solo outing, , which was - incidentally - produced by Donald Fagen (who was returning the favor to Becker for producing his own 1993 solo outing, ). It's appearance on the 1995 live album meant that it was the first official Steely Dan release to feature a track with Becker on lead vocal - he'd make his "studio" debut for the band in 2003, taking lead vocal on "Slang of Ages" on Everything Must Go. The song caught my attention for the line "Santa Claus came home late last night, drunk on Christmas wine," which I thought was just the most fabulous image.
It wasn't until after my Steely Dan conversion that I went back to give the track my full attention, and it's really a beautifully bittersweet track about a relationship that's falling apart, and despite the woman's suspected infidelties (I think) and the man's own drinking problems, there's still a concerted effort to make the kids happy:
Santa Claus came home late last night, drunk on Christmas wine
fell down hard in the driveway, and hung his bag out on the laundry line
You know he's got a Cobra Gunship for his golden boy
and there's a Hello Kitty for his pride and joy
I don't know. Maybe it's tragic, but I think it's great. And Fagen's piano solo is pretty wonderful too.
'Tis the season...
.
If you haven't already heard, is a good one.
39 years after Procol Harum topped the singles charts with "A Whiter Shade of Pale" - a track both critics and I agree is one of the greatest ever - Matthew Fisher wants a songwriting credit. Fisher played the distinctive organ that essentially makes the track, but Gary Brooker, Procol Harum's frontman and now lone original member, said that not only was the track written before Fisher joined the group, the music - and organ part - is based on "Sleepers Awake" and "Air on a G String," both pieces by Johann Sebastian Bach, anyway.
Fisher left Procol Harum three years ago over continued argument between him and Brooker - though both say that the argument never was specifically over "A Whiter Shade of Pale," more just that the two never really liked each other that much anyway.
36 years as a member of Procol Harum, and not once do you say, "Hey Gary, how about giving me my dues for coming up with that organ lick?" You wait until three years after you leave the group and 39 G.D.
years after you recorded the song to make it an issue? Dude, whether you wrote it or not, 1969 was probably the last year you could've still made a case worth fighting for. Or maybe 1995, when Annie Lennox had minor success .
But that'd still be 28 years of forgetfulness. And probably a transparent attempt to cash in on its popularity.
But I guess it also makes for an interesting argument over songwriting credit distribution.
Let's say - theoretically - that the organ part on "A Whiter Shade of Pale" is Fisher's. Now, as much of a dealbreaker as it is to the song, if you take it away, you still have the words, melody, and basic structure. Fisher plays a great part on the song, but let's say for an instance that Fisher wasn't hired, and instead Procol Harum brought in Ian McLagan, Billy Preston, Al Kooper or Ray Manzarek to do the part.
Each one would've played it distinctly differently, but each one probably would've been told by Brooker "I'm thinking of this Bach piece, do you know it?" He probably would've hummed it or shown it to them, and then said "Something like that." While each would've put their own stamp on it and made the song in their own way, are they deserving of the credit?
If you said yes, consider this. Al Kooper got no writing credit on "Like a Rolling Stone," and for as great of a song as it is, and as great as the lyrics are, I think we can all safely say that the organ part is the defining factor in that song and that the version is the one that defines all others. Robby Kreiger gets the predominant songwriting credit to "Light My Fire" - Morrison added a lyrical verse - but Kreiger gets sole music credit, but everyone - even the Doors themselves say that it's Manzarek's carnivalesque organ intro that defined the song.
The snaky lead guitar riff on the Rolling Stones' "The Last Time" is played by Brian Jones, and while that's that song's defining factor, only Mick and Keith get the songwriting credit. I'm sure you can think of more examples.
All these musicians were adding their own touches in a framework that was already established.
By and large, the songs were written. They weren't finished - but they were written.
Anyway, the "Whiter Shade of Pale" case continues in England where yesterday, Fisher actually for the court.
Can you imagine? Fisher explaining to the high judge how he effortlessly managed to pinch Bach? I wish Bach were still alive.
And there. So he could call him a cheeky bastard.
Then today, he told the court that , and that if he could go back in time, he would join another band.
Dude, you played one of the most famous parts ever on a number one song. Critics are still defining it today as one of the greatest songs ever. Even if you didn't write the f*cking part, you can still brag to all your computer programming friends every time it comes on the radio.
And you know they'll all go home and tell everyone they know about how they work with the guy who played organ on "A Whiter Shade of Pale."
The first time I heard the track was - I believe - live in 1998, when Brooker was part the then-incarnation of Ringo Starr's All Starr Band. Best incarnation ever, I might add, with Brooker on keys, Ringo sharing drumming duties with Simon Kirke, Peter Frampton on guitar and Jack Bruce on bass.
When the band played "A Whiter Shade of Pale" I sat in the audience stunned, going, "What is this glorious track that I've never before heard?" And it wasn't because of an organ part (which incidentally was easily played by Mark Rivera). It was because of that soaring chorus.
Here's from that tour. I'm not shown.
I have no idea what the fantastic nonsensical lyrics mean, but as they often do, the "scholars" over in England have put together a .
Here it is in all its original glory.
Buy
November is a holy little month, innit?
All Saints' Day goes right into All Souls' Day and if I were as good a Catholic as my mother, perhaps I would've been at church those two days, but I'm not.
Then today is somewhat of a holy day across the pond, though certainly not one of obligation - more of a party. Nov. 5 is Guy Fawkes Night in England (and also in, I believe, New Zealand, South Africa, Newfoundland and Labrador) - a remembrance of the Gunpowder Plot in 1605, when a bunch of angry Catholics decided that King James I - a protestant - wasn't a good dude to have in charge.
So they decided to fill the Houses of Parliament with gunpowder and ignite the sucker when the king and rest of parliament were in session, but were found out before they could light the fuse. Read about the fascinating little story .
To this day, they celebrate it in the aforementioned countries with fireworks and bonfires.
I didn't learn about all this until recently, and it was quite a revelation to me because it finally made me understand the conclusion of this song.
You can imagine my frustration at never understanding the song's last line when I tell you that this is my favorite solo Lennon song. From the fantastic album, the song features just Lennon, Ringo and Klaus Voorman pounding away while Lennon's meditates on the frustrations of youth.
It's the simple piano that always gets me. Lennon would never top this album - no, not even with .
And since we're on a little religious kick, how about we go with.
..
This is really the only standout track on the 1978 album .
Don't get me wrong - it's a good album - "Rock and Roll Fantasy," "Permanent Waves" and the title track are all great, but this tongue-in-cheek ode to white boys' fancy of reggae music and British race relations in the 1970s is not only typical-Ray-Davies in its lyrical savvy, but it also has a helluva groove and sets the high water mark for the LP. It also never really gets mentioned among Davies' best. Granted, there's a lot to choose from, but I think this one deserves some consideration.
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