I have posted this before and will probably post it again.
This song says in a few short words what my blog is trying to say in a bunch of long words over an extended period of time at a rate of about twice a week.
Music -for the people, by the people and of the people. (sorry and thank you to Ben Franklin or whoever wrote that first)
And by people –I mean all people-even people that grow up with the stain of privilege like Mr. Turner. (Seriously dude, Eton college with Prince William?) Not the expected training for a post-punk folk revival demi-saint of music. But -So What, welcome and thank you!
Here is a Father’s day photo of my youngest son and I at the site of the original Woodstock Stage. Yes, this is where Jimi played the Star Spangled Banner and Janis sung her heart out. And yes, this was a great trip to take!
I will write more and add it to my list of Rock n Roll wonders but for now I will enjoy the rest of Dad’s day with my great family!
A city can’t just proclaim itself worthy of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and become the real home of Rock Music and its history…just like that…something out of nothing….Going all Kevin Costner in Field of Dreams-“just build it and they will come”
Can it?
Isn’t the audacity to proclaim yourself something and then go out and do it-the whole point of Rock Music!!!
In 1951, when it did not have a name, this upstart disk jockey Alan Freed on ClevelandWJW radio named Rock and Roll. It may not have been birthed in Cleveland, but that is where it got packaged so it could take over the world. This new name rebranded R&B music and opened the door to all American kids in a big way.
Ian Hunter is not just a good Rock musician; he has gone beyond that and become the thing itself. He never got so big that he lost himself and never got so small that he became irrelevant. Endlessly skating away on the thin ice of rock music, day after day and year after year until he has produced an ocean of work. The closest example I can think is George Jones in country music because I would hear that said about him-“George is Country!”
So when Ian Hunter says Cleveland rocks-Cleveland Rocks!
Cleveland is not a glamour city and the same could be said for Liverpool –and if you go deeper, the same for a lot of the cities and places that serve as incubators for the disgruntled youth that gravitate to the outlet of rock music. Cleveland rocks.
Mott the Hoople with Ian Hunter put out one of the most iconic songs in Rock music-A David Bowie song known as “All the Young Dudes”. There is a part at the end of the song where he picks out a young dude in the audience and brings him down to the stage. The only criteria for this selection- this young dude in question must be wearing glasses.
I (self proclaimed rock blogger) as a young dude went to see Ian Hunter and had good seats along with the required eye wear (which I have worn my whole life)…And when he got to this part, he pointed me out of the audience and said “You there-with the glasses- I want you” then he smiled a smug smile and kept on rocking.
I, on the other hand was frozen like the proverbial chipmunk in front of a tree. (To my European readers who have never seen this little animal freeze when approached as if that somehow makes them completely invisible and safe, when in fact, it reveals them as cute and funny little creatures…forget Disney Land and shopping at Walmart-for a taste of America-go find yourself a chipmunk!)
Anyway, that was my reaction as I became part of a rock song for one brief shining moment in time while my buddy says to me…”Hey Wayne, he’s pointing to you”.
Yes- I did a cartoon…caveoffame.com
I am making The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame a Wonder
When you look at the entire list of inductees-this place gets it right most of the time. And this place willed itself into existence from nothing. What more can you ask from Rock n Roll?
English: The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Cleveland, Ohio; architect: I. M. Pei (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Jim Morrison, lead singer of The Doors. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Making my way through the Wonders of Rock music I decided I did not want any grave sites but one nudged its way in anyway.
The grave of Jim Morrison in Paris has become a phenomenon. And is Wonder #4
It is not only rock music fans, but all get drawn to a place that holds a strange type of cultural and mystical attraction.
Why some things set fire to the imagination can’t always be explained.
The fascination that the Doors and Jim Morrison continue to hold by casting a spells on fans in different generations is operating on a different plane of consciousness than just good music.
The Doors were the first band that I went back in time to get hooked on.
I did not grow up with them. And I am not alone in this.
Maybe there is something to the 4 year old witnessing death on the highway and feeling the spirit of the Shaman enter his body. (This is in that realm of -did this really happen or did something close to it happen and the memory gets twisted and tweaked over time until the by-product drives you over the edge?… Reaching god-like superstar status just before falling off the face of the earth) I am no psychologist but writing about Jim Morrison makes you think about altered states of mind.
I will suffer Paris to visit this place.
This does not seem like a nice relaxing stroll in a friendly charming city. I see Paris as teeming with tourists combined with local residents that could care less if we tourists help subsidize the quality croissants that they consume and will not help us find. It is going to be a fight through crowds in order to spend about 15 seconds at the resting place of the most romantic and wounded spirit of Rock Music. Rock stars may not go to Paris to die but poets and artists do and Jim Morrison was all of these.
English: Jim Morrison’s grave in Paris, France. Dansk: Jim Morrisons grave Paris. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I am having one of those weeks when I feel the need for a good alternative agnostic power-popgospel song with some killer guitar. I don’t want to get into a big religious debate in the cave-I just want to say that there are times when we all look for the stuff that got us this far and hope that it still works when we need to get a little farther down the road. This song always hits me that way…the opposite of R.E.MLosing My Religion.
A simple repeated chord progression that anyone can play:
Too simple? To twist a quote that Mozart used in Amadeus “What notes would you like to add?” This Da, Da, Daa can be understood by anyone and explained to anyone. Rock music comes in so many different flavors that you sometimes need the source to show what it is all about-A lighthouse of a song to let you find your way home through all the complications of haze and confusion. Find me a rock guitarist who has not evoked the great spirit of rock n roll by playing this…it even works if you play it as a joke…you are connecting yourself to the life-force of rock music.
A true story:
It is based on a “stupid with a flare-gun” burning down the place where Deep Purple was set to record.
Smoke on the water-fire in the sky. It does three of them in the chorus! And the “stupid” with a flare gun burned the place to the ground. That would take care of earth but they were not done yet and brought in a hero of Funky Claude who saved the day by pulling kids to the ground.
The biblical story of “no room in the inn” – go find another place:
Most of the song is about the struggle to find a location to perpetuate the awesomeness of making rock music. This story has been retold through generations over and over and it probably started when mankind started painting cave walls.
That picture in a picture thing that goes forever:
You know those pictures of somebody looking in a mirror and in that mirror image-you have the mirror image of that dude looking in a mirror in a mirror and on and on to an infinity of the same dude looking in a mirror!!!!
Well this song has that…because it is a song about making a song and writing a song about a true event that is still unfolding and part of creating the song itself…it goes on and on into infinity –just like this song.
Maybe that is why you can’t kill it…Infinity just keeps going and going.
Da…Da…Daa…da, da, dada… Da…Da…Daa..dadada.
Not to mention iconic performances by Ritchie Blackmore on guitar and Ian Gillan on vocals…and didn’t rock stars who followed all try to make up names that sounded as rockstar-ish as this?
I still am not sick of this song and I have heard it at least 8 zillion times!
And I am going to YouTube me up a couple more versions right now!
Five Finger Death Punch is everything you want in a metal band. They are honest, self-righteous and melodic- as a bonus you can understand the words. They are less interested in changing the world and more about how things are as they see it. You may not like them but at least you know where they stand…it’s refreshing in a hammer to wall kind of way.
Coming off a birthday weekend- here is another relic from the cave. I saw this band many moons ago in their natural habitat of a bar. Cracker is kind of “angst in a plaid shirt” for guys that still like stuff like beer and football….And by football; I mean football on both sides of the Atlantic because it is the same type dude that likes whatever version is played in their country. Football hooligans in Europe are close to football nuts that paint themselves in team colors in the U.S.A. (Maybe not exact replicas but definitely falling out of the same fanatical tree). And the guy that yells at the T.V and grumbles about personal moves like he could run the team better is exactly the same in any country. I think in Canada this guy is probably a hockey fan? So here’s to Football, the N.F.L, Cracker and me for my birthday.
Cave of Fame 