Saturday, June 18, 2011

Clarence Clemons (1942-2011)


"It is with overwhelming sadness that we inform our friends and fans that at 7:00 tonight, Saturday, June 18, our beloved friend and bandmate, Clarence Clemons passed away. The cause was complications from his stroke of last Sunday, June 12th.

Bruce Springsteen said of Clarence: Clarence lived a wonderful life. He carried within him a love of people that made them love him. He created a wondrous and extended family. He loved the saxophone, loved our fans and gave everything he had every night he stepped on stage. His loss is immeasurable and we are honored and thankful to have known him and had the opportunity to stand beside him for nearly forty years. He was my great friend, my partner, and with Clarence at my side, my band and I were able to tell a story far deeper than those simply contained in our music. His life, his memory, and his love will live on in that story and in our band." --BruceSpringsteen.net

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Another Beatle Fantasy

Have you ever heard "A Toot and a Snore in '74," the bootleg of the only post-Beatles recording of John and Paul playing together? God it's awful. They were probably stoned (hence the title).

The fantasy--which will never happen, but still could--is for Paul and George Martin to break into the vault where John's solo masters are stored, and re-produce them, adding Beatlesque harmonies and more tasteful instrumentation. That would be some good music.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Beggar's Banquet



The reissue of Exile on Main Street has me revisiting the Stones and their great four album run from 1968-1972. Beggar's Banquet, the first of the quartet, might just be the best, and is certainly the most important. Is it too much to say that, coming fast on the heels of the Beatles White Album, it reinvented rock and roll? Nothing before ever sounded remotely like "Sympathy for the Devil," which succeeded in transporting Robert Johnson's spirit to the rock idiom. "No Expectations," which came next, is stylistically different, but texturally identical. That texture, a vocal and instrumental rawness, cut like the real world. The Stones could never match Dylan for blind genius or the Beatles for shear beauty and variety--no one could--but with this album and the three that followed, Mick, Keith, and Co. paved the road for all the lesser immortals who followed. RIP Brian Jones.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Adams Raps Dylan


Back in 2007, Ryan Adams was acting a little weirder than usual, and one day he put out something like 24 albums worth of material on his website, under names like Sad Dracula, Warren Peace, The Shit, and DJ Reggie. It was mostly original songs, in all sorts of styles, tossed off with no polish and little effort. I didn't pay any attention to it, because even though I think Adams (above, with Mrs. Adams) is as close to the Second Coming as we've gotten since Springsteen--well, I mean, the Beatles "You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)" wasn't worth listening to either, right?

Cut to 2010--today, actually--I was reading about a rap from one of the DJ Reggie records, titled "Isis," and how freaky great it was, so I thought I'd give it a listen. Took me five minutes to find and download, and about three seconds of listening to realize it was a rap version of Dylan's song from the 1976 album Desire. It wasn't exactly my kind of thing, but it was interesting, so I scanned the rest of the song titles and found "You're a Big Girl Now," which my rocket scientist brain told me was another Dylan cover. And now I share them with you, because that's the kind of guy I am.

As for the covers... Freaky: yes. Great: you decide.

Isis

You're a Big Girl Now

Saturday, July 4, 2009

The Beatles Reunion


It was just a matter of time. It would have happened. If John hadn't been killed. If George hadn't died. Maybe at Live Aid. Maybe at Live 8. Maybe for something like the Anthology series. But it would have happened. The Beatles would have gotten back together.

I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what it would have been like. I have reached some conclusions. They would have gotten haircuts. They would have played mostly songs from their later albums. They would have been brilliant.

Here's the setlist they would have performed if it was up to me:

  1. Got to Get You Into My Life
  2. Revolution
  3. Get Back
  4. Come Together
  5. Something
  6. Here, There, and Everywhere
  7. Rain
  8. Here Comes the Sun
  9. Blackbird
  10. Norwegian Wood
  11. Yesterday
  12. Help!
  13. Eleanor Rigby
  14. With a Little Help From My Friends
  15. Strawberry Fields Forever
  16. Penny Lane
  17. Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds
  18. Lady Madonna
  19. Taxman
  20. All You Need is Love
  21. Let it Be
  22. A Day in the Life

Encores

  1. While My Guitar Gently Weeps
  2. In My Life
  3. Hey Jude


Wednesday, July 1, 2009


Top Thirty Dylan Songs of the Last Thirty Years (1979-2009)
...what's missing?

  1. Mississippi
  2. Brownsville Girl
  3. Blind Willie McTell
  4. Red River Shore
  5. The Groom's Still Waiting at the Altar
  6. Trying to Get to Heaven Before They Close the Door
  7. Every Grain of Sand
  8. Cross the Green Mountain
  9. Most of the Time
  10. Things Have Changed
  11. Sweetheart Like You
  12. High Water (For Charlie Patton)
  13. Jokerman
  14. Dark Eyes
  15. Caribbean Wind
  16. Series of Dreams
  17. Tight Connection to My Heart
  18. Ain't Talkin'
  19. Slow Train
  20. When the Night Comes Falling From the Sky
  21. Not Dark Yet
  22. Trouble in Mind
  23. Dignity
  24. Tell Old Bill
  25. The Man in the Long Black Coat
  26. When He Returns
  27. Shooting Star
  28. Nettie Moore
  29. Precious Angel
  30. Forgetful Heart

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

New Morning - Bob Dylan (1970)


Listening to the remastered version of Bob Dylan's New Morning, I am struck by how lovely the album is, and how light--it feels like it could up and float away at any second. For that reason it feels inconsequential, unsubstantial. The substance it lacks, it seems to me, is longing, be it romantic ("Boots of Spanish Leather"), philosophical ("A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall"), spiritual ("Mr. Tambourine Man"), or even vengeful ("Like a Rolling Stone"). Who wants to pay good money to hear someone else rhapsodize about their happy life? That's why "Sign on the Window" feels like such a cold gust of truth:

"Her and her boyfriend went to California
Her and her boyfriend done changed their tune
My best friend said 'Now didn't I warn ya
'Brighton girls are like the moon
'Brighton girls are like the moon...'"

The yearning in those lines refutes all the blissed-out platitudes that come before and after them. Listen close and you can hear the "Idiot Wind" howling in the distance.