Category: Friday Night Rock-Out

What I’m Reading: “Dancing with Myself”

Dancing with Myself book

In any given decade, one or two musicians discovers exactly the right sound, look, and vibe to capture the spirit of the times. Such “triple-threat” artists are rare. Elvis Presley was one. David Bowie was another.

For many in my generation of kids growing up in the early 1980s, there were two such figures. One was Madonna. The other was Billy Idol. Unless you were a teenager in that dark, troubled time, you can’t imagine what a huge impact Idol had on youth culture. Let’s start with his look, an ingenious mix of pre-Goth romanticism (complete with black leather and rosary beads) and science-fiction cyberpunk (he had the same peroxide blond hair and chiseled features as Rutger Hauer’s Nazi replicant in Blade Runner).

Idol looked like…well…an idol. A pop idol, that is. But it was his sound that really mattered. Just as Elvis took the energy and soul of R&B and turned into something that middle-class, white American kids could enjoy, Idol took the punk sound of 1970s London and turned it into kick-ass American hard rock. His early hits like “White Wedding” and “Mony, Mony” stuck out a mile on FM radio (not to mention MTV, where they stuck out two miles). Not only were his songs vicious and fast, they had an actual beat; you could dance to them. And we did.

In short, Idol did what the Sex Pistols never could: he brought punk to mainstream America.

Continue reading “What I’m Reading: “Dancing with Myself””

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Masterplan”

Back in the early 1980s when I was in high school, Wendy O. Williams and The Plasmatics played the annual Halloween Festival Concert at the U.F. Bandshell. I didn’t go, but some of my friends did, and word quickly spread that Williams and the band had played a great set. Also, apparently, Williams  bared her breasts, as she was wont to do in concert. In fact, I heard that she had come on-stage wearing nothing on her upper half except a heavy coating of whipped cream (which quickly slid off).

Ahhh, punk rock.

Sadly, Williams’s life ended tragically when she committed suicide in 1998. She battled depression throughout her life, and it finally caught her.  Which really sucks, because she sounded like an amazing person. Also, I think she would have had a comeback, at some point. She and the Plasmatics made some incredible music. My favorite of their songs is this one, “Masterplan.”

Rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Linda Linda”

The power of rock-and-roll transcends language. And that’s a good thing because I don’t speak a word of Japanese. Even so, I love this song. It’s from Japanese punk band The Blue Hearts, and it sounds like something The Ramones might have done, back in the day.

Also, I’m pretty sure it’s about a girl named Linda. Or maybe two girls named Linda. Or maybe one girl named “Linda Linda.” Or maybe…

Screw it. Rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Got Me Under Pressure”

ZZ Top is the brainchild of lead guitarist and vocalist Billy Gibbons, who is a genius. Ever since I learned that he essentially named the band after his hero, blues legend B.B. King, I’ve always thought of ZZ Top as a kind of parallel-universe version of B.B. King. (In that other universe, B.B. King is a rock star and ZZ Top is a blues band. Pretty cool, huh?).

My favorite ZZ Top song is one a lot of young people have never heard, “Got Me Under Pressure,” which comprises one of my the simplest and yet devastating lines in the history of rock lyrics: “She likes cocaine.“

Oh, yeah…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Welcome to the Boomtown”

If you took the entire West-Coast noir mystery genre and made it into a great 1980s song, “Welcome to the Boomtown” by David and David would be the result. When I first heard it on the radio in 1986, I went straight out and bought the album. It’s one of the most haunting rock songs ever made, right up there with “Hotel California” (another song about California’s own particular kind of purgatory). 

I love the way David Baerwald’s dark, ravaged voice seems to meld with David Rickett’s equally dark, slightly atonal guitar playing. And the lyrics sound like something Ross Macdonald might have written. “Welcome to the Boomtown” is a minor classic.

Enjoy, and rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Anarchy in the U.K.”

Sometimes you just have to go back to basics. And what could be more basic than the definitive punk-rock song of all time?

Some things you might not know about the Sex Pistols: 1.) Their original name was The Pistols. Their favorite venue was a club called Sex. The rest is history. 2.) They only had one studio album. 3.) They broke up on stage in San Francisco on their one and only U.S. tour. 4.) John Lydon was given his nickname, Johnny Rotten, for his bad teeth (allegedly).

Also, Billy Idol uses the opening lines of “Anarchy in the U.K.” as the opening lines for his excellent memoir Dancing with Myself. Who am I to argue with Billy Idol?

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Can’t Stand Losing You”

If you’re old enough to remember the early 1980s, you probably know that there was a time when Sting was more than just a meme, and The Police were the greatest rock band in the world. When I say greatest, I mean by almost any measurable component—records sold, concerts sold out, number of MTV plays in any given week, number of magazine articles written about them, etc.—they were at number one. (The only artists who could really give them a run for their money were Michael Jackson and Madonna, and I don’t count either of them as rock artists, though I love them both, especially Madonna.)

Heck, I’m old enough to remember when The Police, themselves, weren’t a rock band, either. They were more of a punk, reggae-adjacent garage band. And that period was, imho, their peak. Yes, “Every Breath You Take” is a classic—arguable the most successful rock song of the 20th Century—but it came out on what was, in some ways, The Police’s least interesting album, Synchronicity. Their very best songs, I think, come from earlier albums, including this one about a guy who, well, can’t stand losing…you.

Rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Authority Song”

There is a great documentary on Netflix about the legendary record producer Clive Davis. One of the more interesting moments in the film is when Davis describes some of the fine artists he didn’t sign to his label, either because someone else beat him to punch or because he thought the artist in question just didn’t fit in with his catalog.

One example he gives of the latter is John Mellencamp, who, despite being saddled with the dumb, management-invented stage-name of John Cougar, hit the airwaves like a thunderbolt in the early 1980s. Mellencamp, Davis lamented, seemed too similar to another of Davis’s great artists, Bruce Springsteen, in that they both played soaring, electrified dirges about working class America (i.e., so-called “Heartland Rock,” even though Springsteen is famously from New Jersey). So, to his later regret, Davis passed.

Too bad for him. Mellencamp sold a bazillion records over the years, while gradually ditching the John Couger moniker and returning to his own, real name. As he did so, I gradually came to like him more and more. His early hits like “Jack and Diane” didn’t speak to me, perhaps because I was in high school at the time (just like Jack and Diane), and while the song was a paeon to lost youth and spirit, I was miserable in high school. (Later, I would realize that I probably would have liked high school a lot better if I had gone to Mellencamp’s, nestled somewhere in small-town America, full of cool, down-to-earth, nice kids instead of the jocks and preppies I was used to. And, yes, I eventually fell in love with and married a girl named Diane.)

But my opinion of Mellencamp’s music changed when his “Authority Song” came out. Not only is it one of the most danceable songs of the 80’s, it’s also one of rock music’s most defiant and rebellious rejections of… well…authority.

I’ve liked Mellencamp ever since. In fact, I think he’s a bit of genius.

Rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Dead End Friends”

As a long-time, struggling, nominal “artist,” I am aesthetically opposed to the idea of a supergroup. The very notion sounds like a BS, 1990s-era, dot-com bubble businessplan: 1.) Pick great musicians from two or more already famous and successful rock groups, 2.) put them in a studio with all the booze and/or drugs they want, and 3.) profit!

But I have to admit that my snobbery is unjustified, if not downright hypocritcal. There are a lot of “supergroups” whose music I love. Derek and the Dominos. Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. The Traveling Wilburys. Hell, even friggin Toto was pretty good. (“I’ve felt the rains down in AAAAAFRI-CUH!!!”)

Them Crooked Vultures is one of the more recent (and also one of the best) rock supergroups. Representing at least two generations of great rock music, it boasts Dave Grohl on drums, Josh Homme on lead guitar and vocals, and John Paul Jones on bass. I find myself especially sentimental about Jones being in the band. Not only is he an older guy who proves that he still has the licks, but he’s one of the most under-appreciated musicians in the history of rock. When people say they love Led Zepplin, what they’s often, really saying is that they love John Paul Jones (and John Bonham, of course, rounding out one of the greatest rythym sections ever).

Below is a great live version of “Dead End Friends” in which you can see that, yes, Jones still knows how to rock. And Grohl and Homme haven’t forgotten, either.

Rock on…!