Friday Night Rock-Out

Friday Night Rock-Out: “Seven Nation Army”

Okay, this one is kind of a no-brainer. Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes contains one of the most iconic guitar riffs since The Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction. (And, as with that song, the riff supposedly came to the artist, Jack White, in a dream).

Yeah, it’s got a great riff, but I mainly like it because it feels kind of demented, the way it moves between fast and slow, loud and soft. Also, in keeping with the demented motif, the video is great. I can’t prove it, but it seems to be channeling the original poster for Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, which is possibly the most demented movie ever made.

Anyway, enjoy. And rock on…

Here is the Kubrick poster…

And here is The White Stripes video. You be the judge:

One night when I was walking the streets of New York City, a young panhandler confronted me and demanded five dollars.

“For what?” I asked.

“I’ll sing Stevie Wonder.”

I gave him two bucks, and he immediately delivered a surprisingly good rendition of “Superstiton.” When he was finished, he looked at me and said, “What’dya think?”

“Not bad,” I said. “But where’s the clavinet?”

He shook his head in disgust and stormed off.

I have always been fascinated by the fact that so many great works of art depend on a single, bizarre innovation—one that might have seemed ridiculous if described in writing. Like Jackson Pollock’s slinging paint onto the canvas, or The Kinks’ shoving knitting needles into their amplifier to create feedback. Who would have guessed that using an electrified version of a 19th Century instrument would be the perfect touch to make a classic funk song? Stevie Wonder, that’s who!

Friday Night Rock-Out

When I was a high school kid in the 1980s, a legend sprang up about a West coast rock band that got busted while playing one of the house parties on UF’s fraternity row. The band had gotten naked on-stage and been arrested for public indecency. And—oh, yeah—they were apparently a really kick-ass band.

They were, of course, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, back before they had broken through. I bet that many college towns across the country have a similar legend about the Chili Peppers (not to mention countless bars, bandshells, small venues, breweries, etc.).

The Chili Peppers and I have aged a lot since then, and so has their music, which has become more layered and thoughtful. This particular song has become one of my favorites. It’s proof that your art can mature without losing any of its edge.

Rock out, and rock on…

Friday Night Rock-Out

Ah, New Wave music. I remember you well. Post-disco. Post-punk. Post-modern. Post-everything. Synthesizers. Spandex. Dry ice fog in the videos. Bizarro special effects.

What a lot of people fail to remember is how flat-out danceable a lot of New Wave music was, even in its most cerebral and soaring example, Gary Numan’s Cars.

Yes, that’s Numan—as in human, but not quite. The song is about a guy who becomes so alienated from the rest of humanity that he only feels alive when he’s alone in his car (where he “can only receive”). And yet the song feels completely real, sympathetic, and…well, human.

It’s even a bit transcendent, imho.

Anyway, rock on…

Friday Night Rock Out

This Thursday will mark the six-year anniversary of Chris Cornell’s death, and I am still pretty messed up about it.

Apparently, his friend Alice Cooper referred to him as “The Voice,” a moniker that, as some students of pop culture might recall, was also given to Frank Sinatra, back in his day. It makes sense. Cornell was my generation’s Sinatra.

Actually, with his four-octave range, Cornell was my generation’s Freddie Mercury. Whoever you compare him to, he was a genius, not just for his voice but for his ability to make you feel something, to strike deeply at some hidden spot in the soul. Like the other two titans of the grunge era, Kurt Cobain and Eddie Vedder, Cornell’s singing made you feel unhinged, as if he was doing the hard work of going mad so that you didn’t have to. Only more so.

Anyway, here’s one of my favorites from Soundgarden…