Dead Funky: Etta James and The Grateful Dead

Phish gave us 20 minutes of the Meatstick for our third set this past New Year's Eve. During their New Years's Eve concert in 1982, at the Oakland Coliseum, the Greatful Dead welcomed the Tower of Power horns and Etta James for their entire third set.  Etta fronted the band for a four song mini set, including her own "Tell Mama," Jimmy Reed's "Baby What You Want Me To Do," Wilson Pickett's "In The Midnight Hour," and Otis Redding's "Hard To Handle." 

Take a look at this video of the Dead from that night backing Etta James on their last ever performance of "Hard To Handle."

The R Train

The following clip has entirely nothing to do with music, film or pop culture, but I nonetheless couldn't resist posting it here as many of our readers and 2/3 of our contributors, including yours truly, reside in NYC.

Fucking up during a blizzard is one thing, but this is totally unacceptable!  Please be a hoax!

Metamorphosis of a Rockstar

I'm not quite sure what really prompted the idea, but while in the process of jotting down some thoughts for other posts, I got to thinking about why/how certain bands achieve years, if not decades, of success while others' careers end up in the shitter.  My knee jerk response was that the type or genre of music ultimately determines whether a band will enjoy relative long-term success or notoriety.  This would include the artist or band's technical ability, coupled with of course, that musical genre's ability to transcend specific time periods, like hard rock, which is no doubt as popular today as it was in the 70's.  But while this theory seemed to make sense on its face, there were far too many exceptions.  For example, it doesn't support why a band like The Rolling Stones, who were more or less known for their trademark blues-driven songs, are as immensely popular today as they were in the 60's, 70's, and 80's.  Now, I could be wrong, but I highly doubt Bo Diddley and Muddy Waters are amongst the top iTunes downloads with today's younger generations. So, it clearly isn't the genre of music that has driven the Stones' success over the years.  Similarly, take U2, who, despite my unabashed disdain for Bono, has enjoyed infinite popularity and has seemingly mastered the ability to adapt to what the people want to hear -- little of which I attribute to worldwide interest in Irish rock/folk music.  Metallica falls into this category as well.  

My theory equally fails to explain why bands like King Crimson or E.L.P. -- who exhibited great technical aptitude and musical versatility -- remain virtually unknown by the general populous.  Or why bands like The Monkees, Poison or even Bon Jovi for that matter -- who were once considered "cool" during each of their peak years of success (yea, I know, only here on The Weight is it possible to see The Monkees and Poison mentioned in the same sentence) -- have become cliches of decades past or survive solely by pandering to those audiences stuck in their respective generations (e.g. cruise-ship-goers and residents of New Jersey -- and I mean that endearingly, sort of...).  So, after giving it more thought (about another minute or so to be precise), I'm afraid that the answer boils down to, you guessed it:  image.  Like it or not,  there is probably a large element of truth to Peter Gabriel's timeless lyric, "if looks could kill, they probably will."  Now, some of you might be reading this and thinking to yourself, "Well, no shit, Captain Obvious!"  "Of course image matters."  But the fact remains, there is a reason why Steve Miller and Three Dog Night continue to wear bad toupees and play to crowds of suburban Jewish housewives and the Stones can sellout a stadium in under thirty minutes.  Apparently, change isn't that easy.

The Beatles of course, were the epitome of a band who mastered the art of adaptation (granted there are infinite other reasons for the Beatles' legacy, but there isn't nearly enough space to write about it here) and I think few artists typified this ability more than the Dark Horse himself, George Harrison.  Indeed, I think it's fair to say that Harrison was known less for his guitar abilities than for his modest good looks -- and killer mustache growth.  Sure, Harrison was set for life regardless simply because he was a Beatle, but I'd venture to guess that his ability to transcend and stay fresh over a period of roughly forty years, is what ultimately kept him appealing to a wide array of audiences, not just diehard fans of the Fab Four (compare with Ringo whose inability to change has somewhat kept him a parody of himself -- though, I still have much love for you Ringo if you're reading this!).  So if we come full circle, take a look at Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger, David Gilmour, Bob Dylan, etc. who I think tend to prove my theory that style + ability to adapt = long-term success.  There will always be exceptions (i.e. Neil Young, Jimmy Page, all 4 members of Kiss, etc.), but I think it's fair to say that while regrettable, and even unfair to some extent, technical ability has little to do with longevity.

That, and because I really wanted to post a picture of Harrison in his Leon Russell phase (see row 3, photo 1) which is just cool as shit and worthy of recognition alone. 

Hence, here is my George Harrison through the years (yes, I created this montage myself [insert nerd insult here]):

In recognition of  Mayor Bloomberg's superior *cough* job tackling last evening's snow (or lack thereof), here's a little GD to get you goin' on a morning you thought you'd still be in bed... 

Grateful Dead, "Cold Rain and Snow" -  Rich Stadium, Buffalo, NY, 07-04-86

When Dylan Met Bono

On July 8th, 1984, Bob Dylan played a concert at Slane Castle in Dublin that was flimed for broadcast on MTV.  His band that night, and his touring band for the entire '84 summer tour, included Mick Taylor formerly of the Rolling Stones on guitar and Ian MacLagan formerly of The Faces on keyboards.  Sitting in on the final seven songs that night was Carlos Santana.  During Santana's extended sit in, Bono traded lyrics with Dylan during "Leopard-Skin Pillbox Hat" and a set closing "Blowin' In The Wind" and Van Morrison appeared on "It's All Over Now Baby Blue" and his own "Tupelo Honey". 

On the day of the concert, the publication Hot Press arranged for the young 24-year old Bono to interview Dylan backstage.  When Bono arrived, he found Dylan in the company of Van Morrison. 

Read the fascinating full transcript of the interview/conversation between Bono, Bob Dylan, and Van Morrison.

Bono's friend Neil McCormick was at Slane Castle that night, and in his book Killing Bono, Neil recalled:

"It seemed Dylan had asked Bono if he would like to join him for an encore. Naturally, Bono said it would be an honor, the problem was that Bono didn't have the faintest idea what the lyrics to 'Blowin' in the Wind' were, and for that matter, had only the vaguest notion of the melody. A roar went up as Bono took the stage with Dylan, grabbed a microphone and began to sing......the first things to enter his head. Dylan looked rather startled as Bono improvised lines about the northern Irish conflict....clearly Bono wasn't going to let a little thing like not knowing the words stop him from performing the song.

It was all going so well, and then the band launched as one unit into the famous chorus, while Bono, oblivious to the chord change, continued making up lyrics to the verse....Dylan's head swivelled as he turned to look at his guest with an expression of complete eye-popping, jaw-dropping disbelief. I watched transfixed as Bono hovered, on the verge of a spectacular crash, when, realizing his mistake, he started howling 'How many times? How many times?' like a blues mantra while the band brought the chorus home. Wisely, Bono let Dylan sing the final verse."

Listen to the 'Blowin In The Wind encore, where Bono ad-libs a verse of a song he clearly doesn't know the words to. It's nearly a train wreck.

The full setlist that night was:

1. Highway 61 Revisited
2. Jokerman
3. All Along The Watchtower
4. Just Like A Woman
5. Maggie's Farm
6. I And I
7. License To Kill
8. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
9. Tangled Up In Blue
10. To Ramona
11. It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
12. Shelter From The Storm
13. Masters Of War
14. Ballad Of A Thin Man
15. Enough Is Enough
16. Every Grain Of Sand
17. Like A Rolling Stone

18. Mr. Tambourine Man
19. With God On Our Side
20. Girl From The North Country
21. Simple Twist Of Fate (w/ Santana, through to end of show)
22. It's All Over Now, Baby Blue (w/ Van Morrison)
23. Tupelo Honey (w/ Van Morrison)
24. Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat (w/ Bono)
25. Tombstone Blues
26. The Times They Are A-Changin'
27. Blowin' In The Wind (w/ Bono)

Chairman of the Bards?

Is Page the new Shakespeare?  Last year, I uncovered a vintage Phish photo where I drew a comparison between a young Page McConnell and Tom Hanks circa the movie Big.  However, a painting universally agreed by historians to be that of William Shakespeare, bears an even more uncanny resemblance to Leo himself (see below).

Editor's note: 

According to The Phish Companion, "My Friend, My Friend” is one of the tunes in Phish’s repertoire that bridges the gap between compositional complexity and sing-along simplicity. The lyrics, with their references to knives and bombs are among Tom Marshall’s most unsettling, lacking the giddy smiles of so many Phish songs. Some have even written near-treatises drawing connections between “My Friend, My Friend” and that most unsettling of Shakespeare’s works, Macbeth."

Furthermore, according to Mr. Miner's Phish Thoughts, "The subsequent nighttime interlude comes in the form of the paranoid nightmare of, “My Friend, My Friend,” formerly titled, “Knife.”  With the opening verse, we see a picture of someone who believes his friend will murder him and marry his love.  Rife with Shakespearean overtones, and parallels the deceptive plot of betrayal in Macbeth, this song is the darkest, thematically, on the album."

Coincidence?  Judge for yourself...

I Don't Like Mondays

I'm 32 and it's time I start expanding my musical horizons.  While my roots are, and will continue to be, firmly planted in the realm of classic rock, I'm trying to impose upon myself in the new year a musical renaissance of sorts. So as part of this "awakening," I've been dedicating a few hours each day to various stations on AOL Radio that previously went ignored (Deep Tracks and 70's Country were the usual suspects).  In recent months, I've been particularly drawn to the 80's alternative channel which highlights bands ranging from The Pogues to Public Image, Ltd to The Psychedelic Furs, etc. Now, don't get me wrong -- I've always been a fan of the music; my knowledge, however, was somewhat limited to anecdotal tidbits picked up along the way.  

The Boomtown Rats are one of those bands that needs to make it to my iPod.  Led by artist/activist Bob Geldof, The Boomtown Rats were a highly influential Irish punk rock band that  undoubtedly spearheaded the burgeoning punk rock/New Wave movement, both in the U.K. and abroad.  Hardly recognized in the U.S., one of their tunes did achieve some relative success in the States: "I Don't Like Mondays" -- a controversial song about the 1979 Brenda Ann Spencer shooting spree in San Diego, California.  Due to the sensitive nature of the song, U.S. radio stations significantly limited its airplay, despite the fact that it went to #1 in the U.K. single charts. However, their success was short-lived; The Boomtown Rats' popularity faded and predictably, the band eventually parted ways -- purportedly because of  the cliched "creative differences" (though like his good friend Roger Waters, I imagine this had more to do with Geldof's expanding ego and growing political activism). Geldof of course, went on to become the founder of Band Aid, chief organizer of Live Aid, a Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire and  undeniably, one of the original pop-activists (take that, Bono!).  Though, Sir Bob was not without his critics -- most notably, Morrisey, who had these choice words to say:

"I'm not afraid to say that I think Band Aid was diabolical. Or to say that I think Bob Geldof is a nauseating character. Many people find that very unsettling, but I'll say it as loud as anyone wants me to. In the first instance the record itself was absolutely tuneless. One can have great concern for the people of Ethiopia, but it's another thing to inflict daily torture on the people of England. It was an awful record considering the mass of talent involved. And it wasn't done shyly it was the most self-righteous platform ever in the history of popular music."

But most of us will always remember Geldof as Syd Barrett's alter-ego "Pink" in the 1982 film, The Wall.  So, here's to Mondays -- which controversies aside, I can confidently say are universally, not liked by all.

The Boomtown Rats - "I Don't Like Mondays" (Live from The Secret Policeman's Other Ball, Drury Lane Theater, London, 1981)  

 

Don't Call It A Comeback

2011 New Year's Resolutions:

1) drink less
2) eat better
3) go to gym
4) call my mother more often
5) bring back The Weight.

I can assure you that resolution #'s 1-4 will not happen; #5 however, starts today.
I'm proud to say that effective immediately, everyone's favorite all-purpose blog is back.  Update your bookmarks & be sure to follow us at:  twitter.com/theweightonline

More to come...


It's been a long time/Now I'm/Coming back home.
I've been away now/Oh, how/I've been alone.
Wait. 

RIP Richie Hayward

In August 2009, Richie Hayward, drummer for Little Feat from its origins in 1969 until 2009, announced that he had recently been diagnosed with liver cancer and would not be at work indefinitely. A benefit concert was organized and a website created where fans unable to attend could donate towards his treatment costs. Hayward lived in Canada, outside of his native USA, and did not have health insurance. Little Feat have announced that their drum technician Ford will take his place. He died from liver cancer on August 12, 2010.

In November 2009, Levon Helm auctioned his Last Waltz gold record to support Heyward's recovery effort.

Little Feat
Time Loves A Hero

It's All About Seoul!

Well, actually Japan...but I couldn't resist.  You have to check out this clip of a Japanese cover band playing Billy Joel's 'All About Soul' from the River of Dreams album.  Great, great song.

But first I wanted to say that I've been on a major Billy Joel kick lately.  And I feel about him the way I feel about Van Morrison.  It's all about the back catalog baby.  Brown Eyed Girl.  Pop crap.  Piano Man...well that's just a good song.  But anyway, I've been mining the Billy Joel archives because life has thrown me a few curve balls in the last couple of months.  And Billy speaks the kind of truth that I need to hear right now.  Plus, anyone who can get Elle MacPherson and Christie Brinkley in the same lifetime is okay with me.

First listen to the Billy Joel version at least for 30 seconds to get the vibe of the song.



Then check out the Japanese cover band.  Who knew the Piano Man translated to Japan?  Actually maybe it doesn't!  Love the vocals and the dedication.  He's REALLY trying for the impersonation.  Do they even know what they are singing???



UPDATE: 'A Voyage on the River of Dreams' is an Australian 3-CD box set released in 1994, which includes the studio album, River Of Dreams, along with a 6-track live CD from the '93-'94 River Of Dreams tour, plus a Questions & Answers CD recorded at Princeton University^.  This boxed set made the charts in Australia (#33) and New Zealand (#47), the only places besides JAPAN where the set was officially released.

There you have it.  The Japanese love them some Billy Joel.  Who knew?