What a load of treasures to show up at Progarchy today.
A huge thanks to Edgel Groves, Jr.!
P.S. And, the sun is actually out and happy on this first official day of spring in Michigan. Will wonders never cease!?!?
I was at the amazing Yes show last night in Vancouver, British Columbia. (Note the Vancouver skyline outside the QE Theatre in the show poster above.)
The concert was superb! A dream come true!
An awesome display of guitars rotated through the hands of Steve Howe and Chris Squire and Jon Davison during the show. This was a revelation to me, because when I listen to the albums I have never imagined all the changing guitar models throughout the songs! It was so much fun to see this live.
My review and recollections will appear soon on Progarchy. In the meantime, here’s an excerpt from a Victoria newspaper about the preparations for the Canadian tour. Victoria was the first stop of the tour and Vancouver the second:
Esquimalt has been rehearsal headquarters for classic rock band Yes as it prepares for a cross-Canada concert tour that starts tonight in Victoria.
The British rock group, famous for the hits Roundabout, I’ve Seen All Good People and Owner of a Lonely Heart, rented the Archie Browning Sports Centre on Monday and Tuesday so that its eight-person crew could stage a dry run of the two-and-a-half-hour concert.
“They all live in different parts of the world, so they have to get together to jam,” said production manager Joe Comeau, who oversees the band’s stage show. “It’s a chance for the band to work through the kinks.”
It’s unusual for a touring act to have space on its schedule for a full-scale rehearsal even for a single day, let alone two. Days off are usually spent travelling instead of rehearsing, but these practices were necessary, Comeau said.
They come on the heels of a six-month layoff for Yes. Though it was time-intensive to set up the band’s gear, it gave everyone involved some peace of mind heading into a series of concerts. “It’s the longest break we’ve had in a long time,” Comeau said.
Various band members and Yes crew were in action Monday morning, but the curling rink at Archie Browning didn’t get into full swing until Tuesday, when drum, guitar and lighting techs began readying gear for the full band’s arrival.
Yes members Alan White (drums), Steve Howe (guitar), Chris Squire (bass), Jon Davison (vocals) and Geoff Downes (keyboards) were all present for a full practice by late afternoon Tuesday and ran through the concert in its entirety.
The real thing will be unveiled tonight during the band’s inaugural Victoria performance, the first of 10 dates in Canada on the Grammy-winning band’s Triple Album Tour. The band is scheduled to perform three records, The Yes Album (1971), Close to the Edge (1972) and Going for the One (1977), front-to-back tonight.
In an earlier interview with the Times Colonist, White preached the need to practice while in Greater Victoria.
Though various members have been with Yes since 1969, the band doesn’t like to leave anything to chance.
“You’ve got to tighten things up,” White said. “Some of these songs, we haven’t played for six months. We need to get in the mode.”
Joe Comeau strings Steve Howe’s 1955 Fender Telecaster for practice sessions by rock band Yes at Archie Browning Sports Centre in Esquimalt. by Mike Devlin, Times Colonist; Photo: Darren Stone.
I have often jokingly said that, when it comes to heavy metal and rock music, there is an area of the world that seems to punch above it’s weight and provide the metal community with an extraordinary amount of high quality music. Indeed, every time I mention it, my family roll their eyes, a non-verbal ‘yes, I know, you mention this all the time’. But actually, it is not a joke, far from it in fact.
I’m not talking about the USA or even the UK, even though both have undeniable importance within the scene as a whole. I’m not even referring to South America or continental Europe, encompassing the likes of Germany, Italy and France. Again, there is much to be said about these countries and their contribution to the metal cause but that’s not the focus of this post.
I am, of course, referring to Scandinavia.
Depending…
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As I mentioned yesterday (https://progarchy.com/2014/03/19/1994-a-pretty-good-year/), I thought 1994 was a “pretty good year” for music. Thinking about 1994 made me think about 1984, and, methinks (don’t you hate it when writers use such pretentious words! Ha), 1984 puts 1994 to shame. In fact, it puts many, many years to shame.
As a product of midwestern America, Ronald Reagan will always dominate my main image and memory of 1984. I write this nonpolitically. Whatever you thought of Reagan as a leader, the man wielded supernatural charisma. He was, simply put, a presence.
But, other images emerge as well from 1984: movies such as 16 Candles, Red Dawn, and The Killing Fields. Chernyanko becoming head of the Soviets. Paul McCartney arrested for possession of pot. The fall of AT&T. The arrival of the first Macintosh. What a year.
Beyond the above, I most remember the music. What a year of greatness for those of us who love innovation and beauty in music. So without further bloviation, I offer my favorites of that august year.
***
Rush, Grace Under Pressure. This is not only my favorite Rush album, it was and remains my favorite album of 1984. I’ve written about this elsewhere, but it’s worth noting again that I think Rush perfectly captured the tensions of that year: the horrors of the gulags; the destruction of the environment; the loss of a friend; and so on.
I hear the echoes, I learned your love for life
I feel the way that you would
***
Thomas Dolby, The Flat Earth. I’ve written about this album as well. So brilliant. As deep and as meaningful as Dolby’s first album was interesting and novel.
Suicide in the hills above old Hollywood
Is never gonna change the world
***
Ultravox, Lament. My favorite Ultravox album? Maybe. As much as Rush captured the spirit of the year, so did Ultravox. From the worry expressed in “White China” to the longing of “When the Time Comes,” Lament is a masterpiece.
Will you stand or fall, with your future in another’s hands
Will you stand or fall, when your life is not your own
***
Talk Talk, It’s My Life. While this is certainly not Talk Talk’s best album, it is quite good. In particular, Hollis reveals much of his genius in songwriting, whatever the “new wave” trappings of the song. Underneath whatever flesh the band gave the music, the lyrics cry out with a poetic lamentation of both confusion and hope.
The dice decide my fate, that’s a shame
In these trembling hands my faith
Tells me to react, I don’t care
Maybe it’s unkind if I should change
A feeling that we share, it’s a shame
***
Simple Minds, Sparkle in the Rain. Again, while this isn’t the best Simple Minds had to offer, it was the last great gasp of the band before entering into an overwhelming celebrity. Kerr’s Catholicism especially reveals itself in songs such “Book of Brilliant Things” and “East at Easter.”
I thank you for the shadows
It takes two or three to make company
I thank you for the lightning that shoots up and sparkles in the rain
New London, CT – Wishbone Ash, one of the most influential guitar bands in the history of rock, returns to North America this Spring with brand new tunes from their upcoming release, Blue Horizon.Yesterday was one of those days where I felt like I did next to nothing but grade. Freshmen midterms, upper-class midterms. Midterms galore, and avalanches of blue books. I also proofed a senior thesis.
Enough, Birzer! Don’t bore the readers into madness. . . .
As I was calling it a day, a song from Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy came into my mind. I have no idea why. Sometimes, these things just happen. And, the thought of the song led me to ask, when did that album come out. As I looked it up, I realized how quickly 20 years had gone by. I’m a historian, and I study memory, time, eternity. But, this hit me. “Last Exit” was 20 years old. So, I did a quick search. What else came out that year. And, I came up quickly with this list of music that meant something to me (and still does) that came out that year.
Tori Amos, Under the Pink. One of my favorite albums of all time. So deadly in its perceptiveness of life. So gloomy, so bouncy, so Tori. “A pretty good year. . . .
Phish, Hoist. I had the great privilege of meeting all of the guys of Phish in the spring of 1990. They were the featured band at a campus event. Amazingly, only about 20 of us came to watch them. I was mesmerized. These guys are a lot like Dave Matthews in terms of genre, but Phish is Monty Python to Matthew’s John Hughes. Even after two decades, the lyrics of Hoist crack me up. The music hasn’t stood up all that well. But, still good. The best song is the concluding “Demand.”
Dead Can Dance, Toward the Within. Seriously weird and gorgeous all at once. In particular, “I Can See Now” and “American Dreaming” are two fantastic songs.
Dave Matthews Band, Under the Table and Dreaming. When this album first appeared, I was rather blown away. This struck me as a proper pop album. Matthews has a good voice, and his lyrics can be quite infectious. It doesn’t mean that much to me anymore, and I’m not sure I would do much to seek the album out. But, still, “typical situation” remains a fine song. Indeed, it’s one of the best of that decade.
Marillion, Brave. Another mind boggler. I’ve written quite a bit about Brave elsewhere, and I plan to do so again. But, sheesh, nothing captured the zeitgeist of the post-Cold War world more than this album did. It could also be counted as one of the two of three albums that ushered in the third wave of prog. Those bastards will find us another one!
Love Spit Love, self titled. I always liked the P-Furs, and this band was a worthy successor. Sadly, I think almost everyone in the music business forgot this album even existed. But, I’ve never stopped listening to it–even after two decades. Butler has a voice that one either loves or hates. I, for one, love it. Though I risk a tongue lashing from Eric Perry, I regard this as one of the great rock-pop albums of the last fifty years. Hooks, pauses, pounding drums, pauses, plaintive lyrics, wacky psychedelic keyboards, pauses, carnival-esque sound scapes, and still more pauses. Phew. . . this is a masterful pop album. Every single song is a wonder, but none more so than “Green” and “St. Mary’s Gate.” If these songs doesn’t bring a tear to your eye. . . nothing will. If I had to compare this album to Amos’s Under the Pink and choose one over the other, I’m not sure I could. When I feel imaginative and want to walk over grassy hills, I listen to Love Spit Love. When I’m angry and feeling a bit like forcing some social justice down someone’s throat, I listen to Tori Amos. In the end, though, I’d pick this one over Under the Pink.
So, in sum: 1994 was, as Tori Amos proclaimed, a pretty good year.
But, then, I thought of 1984. Holy Schnikees. More than pretty good, it was given to us on a silver salver. But, that’s for another post.
Jazz at its best is about creating situations where its musicians, and sometimes its editors and producers, can perform a moment, a flash of form out of maelstroms of sound, its tinder a weird mix of blues, marching band music, and dime-turning improvisation. It takes chops and intention to make this happen, and it doesn’t always work, or runs the risk of being admired simply for being difficult. Perhaps because of this and the common belief that jazz’s golden era is behind it, it is a music that finds itself increasingly in the academy; cast out by pop culture for nearly half a century now, it has found solace and refuge in Deep Thought rather than in the visceral response that fed its early fires. Ever the home of restless artistry, however, jazz does continue to flourish in its original state, an outsider, a dirty and punk-ish thing, much like its ugly, addle-brained cousin, rock and roll. They make an uneasy pair, reminding each other of lost youth, which is why “jazz rock” in all its fusion can be a hateful muzak-y thing that is one’s reward for waiting for the doctor or being put on hold.
Or it can be the hands that lift us to ascension. Which is why I’m writing this.
Ben Allison’s latest record, The Stars Look Very Different Today, continues the bassist’s journey into composing acoustic/electric jazz for a band that, consistently since 2006’s Cowboy Justice, has rocked behind the work of guitarist Steve Cardenas. Cardenas is joined here by guitarist Brandon Seabrook, furthering I think Allison’s intention at broadening his palette, and this is not jazz guitar in the sense of Christian, Reinhardt, Farlow or Metheny. Far more Sonny Sharrock or Marc Ribot, spacey and distorted, jagged, chunky and riffy. Completed by the marvelously sympathetic drumming of Allison Miller, it is the territory of Tortoise and Pell Mell, and makes me believe that Ben Allison might be the guy, the one who is reviving jazz for those of us who never saw it as separate from other music, putting it in the context of seasoned cats while retaining a kind of indie band ethic, casting a wide and wild — even grungey — net, letting go. Watch this band in action — jamming on “Roll Credits,” originally on Allison’s 2008 album Little Things Run the World, and you’ll get it:
Is he a jazz prophet? A rock and roll savior? I’ve been listening to Ben Allison’s work for a decade now, since Buzz (the one jazz album I can put on in a party and always expect the “Who IS this?” question — it is a fantastic, lovely record, and contains as its finale the only Beatles cover that to my mind ever worked), and to hear an artist progress as he has is a rare pleasure. His early albums are wonderful examples of fairly straight post bop, but the long view is more bracing; it’s about an evolving musician and composer who challenges both jazz and rock form, as well as the artist’s role in creation, targeting in particular the shrugging status quo of social media’s — and its consumers’ — casual attitudes towards artists (see Ben’s blog for his search for justice for artists and their work, starting here: http://benallison.com/my-youtube-experiment/).
Contrary to what its title suggests, The Stars Look Very Different Today does not contain a David Bowie cover. Instead it riffs on the themes in Space Oddity, and the space odyssey era that produced it and which it signified. Like all Allison’s work, this is less constraint than starting point, so the album isn’t a sci-fi adventure as much as it is a feel, which is why we hear “The Ballad of Joe Buck,” a banjo-led homage to Jon Voigt’s character in Midnight Cowboy, tucked amidst the record’s more electrometal (!) explorations (“D.A.V.E.,” “Dr. Zaius,” “Neutron Star”). The hallmark of all of Ben Allison’s records is present, intact, and sacred, and that’s a persistence towards beauty. As a composer, his talent is an unafraid embrace of melody and a willingness to push at its seams and against its textures, to find the heart of the muse. It’s why his music inhabits its own era.
Ben Allison’s no jazz prophet or rock and roll savior. I think he’s going for something else entirely.
Our friends in newspaperflyhunting are offering their first, 4-song EP from 2008 for free at bandcamp.
(from Facebook): “Our first EP – ‘Storytelling’ is out of print now and we’re planning no reissue, so we’ve decided to let you download it for free here: http://newspaperflyhunting.bandcamp.com/album/storytelling-ep. You can also dowload our e-single ‘My Iceberg Soul’ for free athttp://newspaperflyhunting.bandcamp.com/album/my-iceberg-soul-single. We’re a cool and thoughtful band, aren’t we?”
It contains an early version of “The Third Sun,” which appears on their latest record, Iceberg Soul, which I reviewed here. Remember, free on bandcamp also means you can give them money for it, so if the spirit moves you, then you too can be a freely giving patron of the arts.
“Magic happens, but it often requires planning.”
Neil shares his thoughts on touring and motorcycling this month with The BMW Owners News Magazine, called BMW ON, and he sees in motorcycling the perfect foil to drumming.
“For me, the riding time is stimulation,” he tells Don Argento for the piece “Backbeats & Backroads.” “It’s a different kind of concentration and certainly a different kind of responsibility [than drumming]. On stage I feel responsible to a similar degree, but a mistake isn’t going to kill me. There’s a big difference there. I find they complement each other. I notice that when I take a day off the bike, I feel the pain much worse. . . I feel like maybe the vibration is therapy in itself—just being on the bike.”
Neil attributes his success to almost two decades of motorcycling between shows to the care he takes to do…
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Dennis DeYoung knows how to put on a show. Last night was the best time I have had in a while, and being within the first ten rows was a definite bonus. I’m still waiting for my hearing to come back (it probably won’t, but who cares, it was worth it). Dennis DeYoung sounds as good today, at age 67, as he did in 1977 when The Grand Illusion was released, and I sincerely mean that. Not one single note was off key. I have seen both Ian Anderson and Kansas live within the last few years, and neither the great Anderson nor Steve Walsh can sing anywhere near what they could in the 70s. Not only was DeYoung at the top of his game, but his entire band was incredible as well. I would venture to say that they were as good or better than Styx. The lineup was Dennis DeYoung on lead vocals and keyboards, Tom Sharpe (of Mannheim Steamroller) on drums, August Zadra on lead vocals and lead guitar, Jimmy Leahey on guitar, John Blasucci on keyboards, Craig Carter on bass guitar, and Suzanne DeYoung (Dennis’ wife of 44 years!) on backing vocals. Wow. Dennis DeYoung has surrounded himself with some incredibly talented musicians, who were obviously enjoying the time of their lives on stage. I was exceedingly impressed by August Zadra’s vocal talent, for he sounds just like Tommy Shaw on songs like Renegade and Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man). Between Dennis and August, the band was able to play their most popular songs, even the ones where Dennis doesn’t sing lead.
For the show itself, the band opened with none other than The Grand Illusion, which I believe to be one of the best songs to open a concert with. I forget the order of the rest of the songs, but throughout the concert they played Lady, Babe, Lorelei, Desert Moon (which wasn’t a Styx song, but according to DeYoung “should have been”), The Best of Times, Blue Collar Man, Fooling Yourself, Mr. Roboto, Show Me the Way, Too Much Time on My Hands, Suite Madame Blue, and finishing the show with Renegade and Come Sail Away. There are a couple of other songs that are slipping my mind, but this list was the majority of the show. The band started with a romp roaring rendition of Grand Illusion, and the show was never dull. In between many of the songs, Dennis DeYoung engaged the crowd by telling stories about himself and the band, cracking jokes about getting old, and cracking jokes at the audiences expense (he’s from the Chicago area so it’s all good). The best line of the night was when he asked who had seen him in concert before, and who was seeing him for the first time. When people yelled and cheered at the latter, he responded, “Where the hell have you been, I’m 67 years old for Christ’s sake?!” That kind of humor was displayed throughout the whole night, and it was great. I’ve been to concerts where the band never says anything, and I’ve been to concerts where the band doesn’t shut up. Dennis DeYoung had the perfect balance. All the humor just goes to show that at 67 years old, DeYoung is still touring and playing because he LOVES it. And the band members all loved it too. August Zadra looked like he was having more fun than any single person should be allowed to have in Joliet Illinois when it is 20 degrees F in the middle of March. And all that fun certainly found its way to the audience- the concert was a blast.
Something must also be said of the Rialto Square Theater in Joliet, IL. It is magnificently beautiful. It was built in the 1920s as a movie house, and it has been lovingly restored to its former glory. The interior is much like the Chicago Theater (in Chicago) or the Fox Theater in Detroit, just on a smaller scale. I look forward to seeing more shows there (B.B. King at the end of May. Giddy up).
In the end, Dennis DeYoung and his band could not have been better. The one complaint I had about the show was the absence of Pieces of Eight, and the presence of Mr. Roboto (the one Styx song I could really do without). So, if you find that Dennis DeYoung is coming to a theater near you, drop everything, call the theater, buy tickets, and get ready for an awesome show. These really are The Best of Times.
Progarchy 