All posts by Stephen Macaulay

Bed(rock): A Cultural Quiz

Here’s a quiz.

What do the following groupings have in common beyond all of them being, well, musical:

  • “This Land Is Your Land” by Woody Guthrie
  • “How High the Moon” by Les Paul and Mary Ford
  • “Respect” by Aretha Franklin

==

  • “Crazy” by Patsy Cline
  • At Folsom Prison by Johnny Cash
  • “Roll Over Beethoven” by Chuck Berry

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  • “Stormy Weather” by Ethel Waters
  • “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” by Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs
  • Nevermind by Nirvana

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  • “Dancing in the Street” by Martha and the Vandellas
  • “That’ll Be the Day” by the Crickets
  • “Straighten Up and Fly Right” by Nat “King” Cole

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  • “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones
  • “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes
  • “Wildwood Flower” by The Carter Family

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  • “Call It Stormy Monday But Tuesday Is Just as Bad” by T-Bone Walker
  • “Tracks of My Tears” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles
  • “Oh, Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison

==

  • “Boogie Chillen’” by John Lee Hooker
  • “At Last” by Etta James
  • The Who Sings My Generation by The Who

==

  • “Dear Mama” by Tupac Shakur
  • “Radio Free Europe” by R.E.M.
  • “Coal Miner’s Daughter” by Loretta Lynn

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Doesn’t Feel Too Festive

Lana Del Rey headlined both Fridays.

Tyler, the Creator headlined both Saturdays.

Doja Cat headlined both Sundays.

And there were some 143 other acts that performed at this year’s two-weekend Coachella at the Empire Polo Club in Indio, California.

Some people suggest that this, the 23rd Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival, doesn’t portend well for the future of festivals because rather than selling out in a jiffy like recent concert tours have of late, approximately 20% of the ~250,000 available tickets weren’t sold. This is not a boo-hoo situation for the event organizers because it is still the major festival in the U.S., but it could portend unhappy times ahead for other music festivals.

Two days after the lights were shut off at this year’s Coachella, on April 16, on the other side of the planet, the organizers of the 2024 Caloundra Music Festival, which is held in Queensland, Australia, was pre-emptively canceled after a 17-year run.

Festival director Richie Eyles told ABC Business (as in the Australian outlet, not the one that shows “The Golden Bachelor” and “Dancing with the Stars”), “People are doing it tough, disposable income is not there, and ticket sales, concerts, festivals are one of the first things to go.”

Yes, when given a choice between, say, paying the rent and catching an act, guess what is likely to win (at least for the largest percentage of people)?

Continue reading Doesn’t Feel Too Festive

Phish &: Aces Full of Kings

Phish isn’t exactly a sizzling topic on GloNo. I just ran a search and discovered that there are 20 pieces that mention the band, and in some instances a mention is pretty much just that. And while I am indifferent to the band and, overall, its genre, it probably deserves a bit more mention.

(After all, Thin Lizzy has 10 mentions, and while I know that Phish still exists—with essentially two member changes, addition of keyboardist Page McConnell in 1985 and the departure of guitarist Jeff Holdsworth in 1986—despite plenty of time searching (including on what claims to be “The Official Thin Lizzy” website, which has on offer a live album that is the band “at the absolute height of their powers”—recorded in 1977), I can’t figure out whether Thin Lizzy exists in any form, and even when it did, members changed as frequently as Cher did dresses on “The Sonny and Cher Show,” which also appeared in 1977.)

A couple years ago, when John Hodgman was still answering the questions in The New York Times “The Ethicist” column, he was presented with:

My fiancé, Steve, wants me to go to a Phish show—he has been to more than 60—but every time he turns on Phish, it puts me to sleep. I don’t want to pay for an expensive nap. Please order that he stops asking me to go to his hippie festivals.

To which “Judge” Hodgman replied, in part: “before you get married, you should know the law: in heterosexual marriages, every wife owes her husband one Phish show.”

It is not later revealed whether Rachel and Steve were wed or if she became well rested during a lengthy performance.

Continue reading Phish &: Aces Full of Kings

Marx, Monks & Music

“Morris believed passionately in the importance of creating beautiful, well-made objects that could be used in everyday life, and that were produced in a way that allowed their makers to remain connected both with their product and with other people. Looking to the past, particularly the medieval period, for simpler and better models for both living and production, Morris argued for the return to a system of manufacture based on small-scale workshops.”

That is from a essay by the Victoria & Albert Museum describing Willam Morris and his contribution to the Arts & Crafts movement, which grew in the U.K. in the mid- to late 19th century. It was in large part a reaction to the industrialization of production of goods of all type. There was a belief among many that the manufactories that were becoming part of the landscape of commerce—which certainly provided a benefit for regular people in that objects being made in mass quantities were less expensive than those that were produced for the rich—were stifling the artistic aspects of people, replacing it with undifferentiated commodification. This was not a total reaction against making things such that they would be accessible. As John Ruskin, who was an important commentator on what was going on in his time, wrote: “Life without industry is guilt, and industry without art is brutality.”

While it is somewhat inconceivable for us to imagine what things were like in the 19th century, when Blake’s “dark Satanic Mills” rose up and those who had been working in crafts jobs became cogs in the machinery.

As Marx wrote in 1848 in The Communist Manifesto:

“Owing to the extensive use of machinery, and to the division of labour, the work of the proletarians has lost all individual character, and, consequently, all charm for the workman. He becomes an appendage of the machine, and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and most easily acquired knack, that is required of him.”

The issue that Marx identified was the estrangement of the worker from the work (although let’s face it: there were and are plenty of jobs that lack any “charm”); the thing that Morris and his colleagues were trying to do was to reestablish, at least in the realm of artistic endeavors that would be a part of everyday experience, some semblance of that charm.

Throughout history—before the 19th century and to this day—the development of applied technologies have caused there to be a leveraging of human capabilities such that the machine can do the job more efficiently than a human. If you’ve ever seen an illuminated manuscript that was carefully created by monks back in the Middle Ages there is a wondrousness visible that is entirely lacking from the printed pages that Gutenberg started cranking out in 1454. Those artisans were displaced and went on to other activities that were probably less engaging, like mucking out the stables.

Continue reading Marx, Monks & Music

What Stories Will the Superfans Have?

A friend and former colleague is someone I consider to be a Deadhead*. The number of shows he’s seen of the Dead and its subsequent variants is in the double figures. Which strikes me as more than passing interest.

He would regale me with adventures—not mere stories—of his attendance at various venues, with everything from blotter acid to grilled cheese sandwiches to hitchhiking to a show to looking for water.

It always seemed somewhat ironic to me that he, the type of guy who is essentially a Chamber of Commerce Republication when such things existed, is such a fan of the band, something that’s completely analogous to the Harley riders who show up each year in Sturges and then go back to their lives as doctors, accountants, and school board superintendents.

Last week I was in a conversation with a group of what I describe, for lack of a better term, “business people.” Or perhaps “professionals.” People who work more with their minds than their hands, have a mortgage and (probably) a two-car garage. One of them mentioned that he is going this week to Riviera Maya, Mexico, with his wife to attend My Morning Jacket’s “One Big Holiday” event. That will put the number of times he’s seen the band into the high 40s.

Before COVID, the notion of working from home was not something a whole lot of people, outside of, say, day traders, had. Which explains, in part, why I heard so many stories of Dead shows.

Continue reading What Stories Will the Superfans Have?

House of Wax

When I was younger than I can imagine ever being, my parents took my brother and me to Niagara Falls for vacation. I remember that my dad and my brother were able to take the trip on the “Maid of the Mist” boat that allows you to “Hear the roar of 600,000 gallons of water crashing down around you every second!” I suspect that they went because he was older than me and had disaster struck, at least my mom would be left with someone. Not exactly a bonus, I think in retrospect.

Another place I remember going to was the Tussaud’s wax museum. Instead of being interested in seeing the celebrities that didn’t seem more life-like than the mannequins in the flagship J.L. Hudson’s department store in downtown Detroit (once the tallest department store in the country, at 440 feet; closed in 1986, imploded in 1998, and being turned into a mixed-use building that is to open this year), my brother and I spent our time wide-eyed at the scary exhibits (e.g., the guillotine and related headless individual).

Until I started writing this I had always thought that we were at the Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum. But my memory was dashed as though 600,000 gallons of water came tumbling down.

Turns out that it was the Louis Tussaud’s Waxworks. Louis was a great-grandson of Marie Tussaud (a.k.a., “Madame”). Apparently he saw that great-grandma was doing well, so he opened his own shop in London in 1890. Unfortunately it burned down six months later. But he preserved (obviously) and now there are outlets not only in Canada, but in India, Thailand and elsewhere.

Evidently a global interest in faux people.

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“Something”

It would seem as though writing about someone who just (March 17) turned 80 would be somewhat uncharacteristic in this space. But given that so many of those who are certainly distinctive and formative creators of the entire rock and roll sphere (Dylan. . .Jagger. . .Ono. . . Page. . .), it is, well, not out of the ordinary, but is becoming something that is rather regular. We should all hope we have similarly long runs.

In this case the person of interest is Pattie Boyd, one of the quintessential figures of the Swinging ‘60s in the U.K., a model first (she was on the cover of Vogue four times) and foremost (then) who made her way into photography (later).

What makes Boyd more famous than, say, Cynthia Powell, John Lennon’s first wife, is that she was married to George Harrison from 1966 to 1977 and then, two years later, married Eric Clapton. Their marriage lasted until 1989. (Looking at those dates it seems as though at about the 10-year mark things become unraveled.)

Harrison wrote “If I Needed Someone” (1965), presumably to woo Boyd. And he also wrote “Something” (1969), presumably with Boyd being the object of the pronoun.

And while those two Harrison compositions are considered to be his best, Boyd also was the object of what is arguably Clapton’s most famous, “Layla,” which was released (1970) while Boyd was still wed to his pal. (“I tried to give you consolation/When your old man had let you down/Like a fool, I fell in love with you/You turned my whole world upside down”) The two musicians co-wrote and performed on “Badge,” which appears on Cream’s Goodbye album (1969), with L’Angelo Misterioso being used in place of Harrison’s name, given that the Beatles and Cream were on different labels. If nothing else, given the two songs appearing within about a year of one another and the tripartite dynamics of the people involved, there is certainly something to be said for the emotional spur to creativity. (And when Clapton sings, “And I’m thinkin’ ‘bout the love that you laid on my table,” who might the person be?)

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Steely Dan Meets Shawn Fain

Although Donald Fagen evidently thinks otherwise, since the demise of Walter Becker who died of esophageal cancer in 2017, Steely Dan has ceased to exist. On the Steely Dan official website (which is remarkably hacky for a vaunted band) on the home page, two of the four images are large photos of Fagen and Becker.* There is no red X through Becker’s visage.

And it goes on to detail how the two started out as session musicians, including being members of the backup band for Jay and the Americans.

Then in 1972 Steely Dan was formed with Fagen and Becker joined by Denny Dias and Jeff Baxter on guitars and Jim Hodder on drums. On the Can’t Buy A Thrill album, the group’s first, the lead guitar on “Reelin’ in the Years” was played by Elliot Randall. The vocal on “Dirty Work” was by David Palmer.

And that was just the start. A quintessential characteristic of the band has been its amorphousness as regards membership. There has been a vast array of session and independent musicians as part of the crew over the years, including, but not limited to, Jeff Porcaro, Michael McDonald, Royce Jones, Peter Erskine, Tom Barney, Drew Zingg, Warren Bernhart, Bill Ware. . . .

The thing that stayed consistent was the duo.

And for some seven years the duo has been done but somehow it still presented, perhaps because of the IP associated with the brand, as “Steely Dan.”

But this isn’t one in series of my existential/economic screeds on bands that seem to exist only to continue to rake in the take. Rather, it was caused by two events from last week, which got me to consider session musicians. Without question Steely Dan is one of the preeminent employers of those players.

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“There’s 1 for You, 19 for Me”

Historically—with that history being also what we’re living in today—British music has pretty much defined what “music” is for many of us.

There is no band that has definitionally described “music” in a way that the Beatles did.

While some may point to Elvis or Dylan as American analogues, did either of them really change things in a way that they continue to be changed? Wasn’t Elvis something of Bill Haley’s successor or Dylan Pete Seeger 2.0? And didn’t the Beatles perform songs that would have been perfectly comfortable in the contexts of those two musicians?

What American band can be pointed to as being as influential as the Beatles? The Beach Boys? The Doors? The Eagles? Aerosmith? The Doobie Brothers? I think not and it would be arguable that the Rolling Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and Fleetwood Mac could be stood up against them.

The point of this is not to make the “who is better than whom” argument but to say that it seems that there is better care, feeding and concern for musicians in the U.K. in a way that is lacking in the U.S.

This week (on March 6), the U.K. Chancellor of the Exchequer, Jeremy Hunt, will be presenting his budget. (This is a different situation than in the U.S., where the president presents and Congress refuses.)

Like in the U.S., there are trade associations that lobby for the protection of their constituents. In the U.K. there is one that has a straight-up name—UK Music—and a clear-cut mission: to serve as “the collective voice of the UK’s world-leading music industry.” On the political front it “promotes the music industry as a key national asset to central, devolved and local governments and Parliaments, as well as other relevant policymakers, stakeholders and influencers.”

So UK Music has asked Jeremy Hunt to include something in his fiscal calculations: cutting the tax that consumers pay on tickets to musical performances.

Continue reading “There’s 1 for You, 19 for Me”

The Show that Apparently Never Ends

Emerson, Lake & Palmer first (“officially”?) broke up in 1979. That means 45 years ago.

Keith Emerson died in 2016. Greg Lake also died that year. Carl Palmer is still alive, age 73. Oddly, on his website in a post dated April 26, 2023, it says:

“This morning, Carl underwent a successful Ablation procedure to restore sinus rhythm as he was previously in Atrial Fibrillation.

“Carl would to thank his Consultant Cardiologist, Dr. Tushar Salukhe, who performed the procedure, and all the wonderful attending staff on the Sir Reginald Wilson Ward at the Royal Brompton Hospital in London who have been looking after him today.”

There are several pictures of post-op Palmer, with the patient grinning and giving a thumbs up, presumably indicating not only that the team at Royal Brompton Hospital did a first-class job, but that he is ready to rock with ELP.*

“But wait,” you think. “It says at the top that not only did the band break up decades ago but that two thirds of the members are dead. Does this mean that he is out there with two other people who conveniently have surnames that begin with an ‘E’ and an ‘L’?”

No, actually the two guys that are standing on stage with him for “Welcome Back My Friends, 50, The Return of Emerson, Lake & Palmer” are Paul Bielatowicz on guitar and vocals and Simon Fitzpatrick on bass and “Chapman stick.”

Continue reading The Show that Apparently Never Ends