Showing posts with label Sting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sting. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

I Think About This a Lot: John Rzeznik in the Replacements Documentary



Gorman Bechard’s 2011 Replacements film, Color Me Obsessed, feels like a fans-only experience. It’s made for someone who cares enough to know where the title comes from (“Color Me Obsessed”, off 1983’s Hootenanny, a record underloved even by Replacements standards), which means a high percentage of the ‘Mats fanbase. If you like the Replacements, the lovable college rock losers famous for their ragtag music, appearance and performances, you’re probably a big enough fan for a two-hour oral history film about them. The band and their music never appear in the movie, but we get accounts from friends, fans and collaborators who've been touched in some way. If you care what people like Chicago's Sound Opinions critics Greg Kot and Jim DeRogatis think about the Replacements, you are going to love this movie.


But it’s not a moment from DeRogatis or Kot, or any of the film’s considerable cast—writers David Carr and Robert Christgau, actors Dave Foley and George Wendt, and producer Steve Albini among them—that I keep going back to. It’s the Goo Goo Dolls' John Rzneznik. The Goo Goo Dolls are one of many bands influenced by the Replacements (Rzeznik even co-wrote a Dolls song, 1993's “We Are the Normal”, with Replacements leader Paul Westerberg). But on the Color Me Obsessed web site they stand out among musician participants—“Hüsker Dü, Babes in Toyland, The Decemberists, The Hold Steady...and Goo Goo Dolls.” The Goo Goo Dolls are the only one of those bands with a platinum record or multiple Grammy nominations, plus the only one likely to get invited to perform at the Macy Day Parade, which the Dolls' Rzeznik and Robby Takac have apparently done three times. I don't know what the kids thought, but people who spent the 1990s in grade school seemed mostly startled by NBC anchors referring to “classic rock group” the Goo Goo Dolls, and/or Rzeznik's face, his heartthrob good looks now hardened by plastic surgery. They're the only band in Color Me Obsessed with a smash worldwide hit, 1998's “Iris” from the City of Angels soundtrack, plus a slew of radio hits, including “Slide”, “Black Balloon” and “Name”, more popular than the biggest songs by the Replacements or any other band in Color Me Obsessed.


But there they are in the movie, Rzeznik, Takac and drummer Mike Malinin, talking the Replacements. “The first time I heard Don’t Tell a Soul, I got a copy of it for my birthday," Rzeznik recalls. "We were sitting in our friend’s apartment...and I opened it up, tore it open, put it in the CD player...and I heard it, and I pushed the eject button, put it back in the case and threw it out the window. And I was like ‘No way! This is not the Replacements.’”


I imagine people who saw this in theaters laughing. Who invited Prom King here? Mr. Don’t Want the World to See Me thinks the Replacements sold out? Did the movie’s filmmakers invite him here to make fun of him? A friend I recounted this too sounded similarly disappointed by John Rzeznik's career moves (“Has he even heard Superstar Car Wash?”). But Rzeznik is serious. He loves the Replacements and felt betrayed by the overproduced, ballad-heavy record that sounded less like Let It Be and more like, well, the Goo Goo Dolls. 


Rzeznik’s moment is a touching realization that artists don’t think of themselves as the bad guy. Rzeznik doesn’t feel like the prom king. He feels like the kind of outsider who’d find solace in the Replacements’ songs about loners and coulda-beens. He's a capital A Artist who writes songs from the heart, just like Paul Westerberg, only Rzeznik’s connect on a much bigger scale. He didn’t write Dizzy Up the Girl to be a corporate rock poser. It’s just the record he was feeling at the time. Paul Westerberg wanted to write hits too, signing with a major label and filming music videos. We might view the Replacements differently if Don’t Tell a Soul was the hit Westerberg hoped it to be. Maybe their scrappy past would be overshadowed by the polished soft rock band behind hits like “Achin’ to Be” and “I’ll be You” (the opposite seems to have happened—2019's Dead Man's Pop box set attempted to rescue Don’t Tell a Soul’s songs from their 1989 gloss). Let It Be or Tim could have been their Superstar Car Wash.


In The Onion's brilliant Sting sendup "You Know, I Used to Be Kind of Cool Once," the author concludes "Then again, Eric Clapton, of 'Tears In Heaven' fame, really used to tear it up, too, come to think of it. Or, hell, just take Paul Westerberg. Now there’s one to ponder." If one of Paul's maudlin solo albums were a big hit, more Replacements fans might view him the way some Police fans view Sting's solo career, or Cream fans view Eric Clapton's. But since the Replacements’ attempts at major success failed, they get to be scrappy underdogs with devoted fans who line up to be in a movie like Color Me Obsessed. Maybe if “Iris” tanked we'd be watching a Goo Goo Dolls movie and laughing at an appearance from Train.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Free, "All Right Now"

Having spent two summers and my senior year of college working at classic rock radio stations, I must have heard Free's "All Right Now" hundreds of times, thousands if we're counting bumpers. And yet, long after I've tired of "Stairway to Heaven" and "Free Bird," I'll happily sit through "All Right Now."



I'm still hearing new things in it. Two years ago, I heard an organist play it at a Cubs game and realized the verses have the same melody as "Footloose" (which "All Right Now" predates by 14 years).



It's the only Free song I know, and I've never felt inclined to seek out any others. I'm assuming they're good, and maybe someday I'll find out. But as of now it feels like the complete encapsulation of a band. Maybe Free themselves realized this, as Paul Rodgers saved nearly of his hits for Bad Company. You've heard the riff in countless other songs, but never played like this, and you might forget which hook goes with it the first dozen or so times it turns up on your FM. But once you get there, you'll stick around for Andy Fraser's moment of rock immortality. The bubbling bass line that takes over the bridge right around 2:20 is a pioneer moment of a bassist taking the lead in a great rock song, and still one of the only rock bass solos that doesn't disappoint or wear out its welcome. Now that we've heard Steve Harris, Geddy Lee, Cliff Burton, Sting, Flea and more it doesn't sound so unusual, and yet no less perfect.