Showing posts with label bob seger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bob seger. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Soul Asylum, "April Fool"
Soul Asylum got the worst of both worlds. They had too many hits to still be aligned with their Minneapolis indie rock brethren (Hüsker Dü, the Replacements), yet not enough to be one of the great '90s mainstream rock bands. Thus, as of late they're playing the Summerland tour with Eve 6, Spacehog and Everclear.
That's too bad, because they had some great songs that people never listen to because they can't remember if "Runaway Train" was by Soul Asylum or Candlebox. Dave Pirner's lyrics aren't as profound as I thought they were in 1993, but he's got a knack for melody--think Bob Seger to Westerberg's Neil Young. Plus, unlike the alt-adult contemporary groups they get lumped in with, Soul Asylum can really rock, as "April Fool" proves, loaded with an undeniable riff and a chorus that's no joke.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Motörhead, "(We Are) The Road Crew"
A guitar teacher friend of mine was telling me about a student who brought in "The Load-Out," Jackson Browne's interminable ode to his roadies that's best-known for the live version that works in Maurice Williams' doo-wop staple "Stay."
I can't tell why anyone likes this song. Its melody and arrangement are the worst of dad rock sap, making the Eagles sound like Alice Cooper. The lyrics are even worse, coming across like a third-rate, unintentionally funny "Turn the Page" (Jackson's noble roadies are "working for that minimum wage"--well, who's paying them that?) One can imagine Richard Pryor, whom Browne proudly claims to have "on the video," gagging in earshot of this tripe.
Thankfully, it took just a few years for someone else to give roadies the tribute that they deserve.
"(We Are) The Road Crew" was written in the studio in ten minutes and recorded almost as hastily. Guitarist "Fast" Eddie Clarke accidentally crashes into feedback halfway through the solo, but the band kept it in the studio version. Lemmy, a roadie for Jimi Hendrix and Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd before he'd earned his metal god status, sounds like he's been itching to scream this one since his days of unpacking Hendrix's Fender. His restless delivery is perfect for the stories of Another Town, Another Place, Another Girl, Another Face, Another Truck, Another Race. As Mr. Kilmister remembers in his autobiography:
"One of our road crew cried when we first played that song for them. I'm not going to say who it was. We took the lot of them up to the studio one day and played them the track. And this one guy cracked and broke down right then and there. He was weeping, 'Oh, that's a great one. That's great.' It was really nice that it affected somebody that deeply. Bands as a rule don't treat their crews too well. I try to."
I can't tell why anyone likes this song. Its melody and arrangement are the worst of dad rock sap, making the Eagles sound like Alice Cooper. The lyrics are even worse, coming across like a third-rate, unintentionally funny "Turn the Page" (Jackson's noble roadies are "working for that minimum wage"--well, who's paying them that?) One can imagine Richard Pryor, whom Browne proudly claims to have "on the video," gagging in earshot of this tripe.
Thankfully, it took just a few years for someone else to give roadies the tribute that they deserve.
"(We Are) The Road Crew" was written in the studio in ten minutes and recorded almost as hastily. Guitarist "Fast" Eddie Clarke accidentally crashes into feedback halfway through the solo, but the band kept it in the studio version. Lemmy, a roadie for Jimi Hendrix and Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd before he'd earned his metal god status, sounds like he's been itching to scream this one since his days of unpacking Hendrix's Fender. His restless delivery is perfect for the stories of Another Town, Another Place, Another Girl, Another Face, Another Truck, Another Race. As Mr. Kilmister remembers in his autobiography:
"One of our road crew cried when we first played that song for them. I'm not going to say who it was. We took the lot of them up to the studio one day and played them the track. And this one guy cracked and broke down right then and there. He was weeping, 'Oh, that's a great one. That's great.' It was really nice that it affected somebody that deeply. Bands as a rule don't treat their crews too well. I try to."
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Song of the Day: Social Distortion, "Making Believe"
Like many folks who were born in the '80s, I learned about the late Kitty Wells through Social Distortion.
Social D are punk rock's Bob Seger. They've never been the best at what they do, but they're consistent, honorable road dogs with more good tunes than you remember. They're often thought of as pioneers to the Orange County punk boom, but more so they're the last of the rockabilly bands, quick to dazzle you with three chords and a story in two and a half minutes. They'll convince you that rock and country are the same thing.
That influence is on singer/songwriter Mike Ness' tattoo sleeves, most famously in Social D's hit cover of "Ring of Fire" and his solo covers album, Under the Influence. Best of all though, is "Making Believe," the D's tears of a punk rip through Wells 1955 chart-topper. It's not the first song that you'd expect a bunch of bros to SoCal bros to cover--previous interpreters include Wanda Jackson, Connie Francis, Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton. But Social Distortion's cover is a reminder that these gals didn't make it big by offering an alternative to the outlaw country stylings of the Highwaymen, but by being just as iconoclastic as their Y-chromosomal peers.
"Thank you, Kitty Wells, for shakin’ up the boys club, and for all of your great music," Social D wrote on their web site this week. Thank you, Mike Ness, for enlightening me.
Social D are punk rock's Bob Seger. They've never been the best at what they do, but they're consistent, honorable road dogs with more good tunes than you remember. They're often thought of as pioneers to the Orange County punk boom, but more so they're the last of the rockabilly bands, quick to dazzle you with three chords and a story in two and a half minutes. They'll convince you that rock and country are the same thing.
That influence is on singer/songwriter Mike Ness' tattoo sleeves, most famously in Social D's hit cover of "Ring of Fire" and his solo covers album, Under the Influence. Best of all though, is "Making Believe," the D's tears of a punk rip through Wells 1955 chart-topper. It's not the first song that you'd expect a bunch of bros to SoCal bros to cover--previous interpreters include Wanda Jackson, Connie Francis, Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton. But Social Distortion's cover is a reminder that these gals didn't make it big by offering an alternative to the outlaw country stylings of the Highwaymen, but by being just as iconoclastic as their Y-chromosomal peers.
"Thank you, Kitty Wells, for shakin’ up the boys club, and for all of your great music," Social D wrote on their web site this week. Thank you, Mike Ness, for enlightening me.
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