Maximum Tuneage

The Unchristmas-ey Christmas show

2011-12-03T23:16:00.030-05:00

We spun on the ol' proverbial dime for this one. At approximately 1 p.m. Saturday, John Stamos Facebooked/Tweeted that he was going to be performing with the Beach Boys at the State Theater in New Brunswick -- we call it the "down the block" venue. At 8 p.m., we were in our seats waiting for the show to start.

It was billed as a Christmas show, but there was actually very little holiday music, which was appreciated by Mark, who has been under a constant barrage of white-bread holiday tunes at the Depot. Lots of sun, fun and traditional Beach Boys music. In fact, I think it might have just been one long song, I'm not quite sure.

Now a very good friend of mine is a huuuuuge fan of the Stamos, but she was off performing in her own Christmas concert in another state. Her nickname's Georgia, so when the person seated next to me shrieked continuously for John, I felt like Georgia was there vicariously. I will call said person "Oregon," and Oregon would get bent out of shape when John left the stage for one song.

There was a lot of humor expressed between John and Beach Boys frontman Mike Love. Before "Be True to Your School," Mike reminded John of a short drum roll that he was to take before a verse. John reeled off a full-force solo instead. Mike took some ribbing for the dramatic way he started that song, but zinged John right back with some pointed comments about Uncle Jesse's mullet. The latter joke did not sit well with Oregon.

Mike got in a joke about knowing John's mom "real well," after which John chided him for doing a "Your Mama" joke in Jersey but called him "Daddy" affectionately later. And before delivering "Forever," John admitted he had had a "If you had told me moment," namely if he had been told years ago that he would be on stage singing harmony with Mike Love, he would never have believed it. Let alone the fact that Mike took him to task for not having his shoes polished.

John switched off between drums and guitar throughout the show, not a bad idea considering "other" drummer, John Cowsill, had it going on. Which reminds me, I've come to the conclusion that The Beach Boys were the harbingers of "Glee." The way they sing together and with different people taking the lead at different times really reminded me of the way that show unfolds. Which, of course, is a series that Mr. Stamos has been on several times, so full circle. Not "Full House," full circle.

The setlist included a lot of songs from the era that weren't Beach Boys hits, but can be found on their greatest hits album -- "Why Do Fools Fall in Love," "California Dreaming" and "Do You Wanna Dance" -- amidst the classic surfing and beach song contingent.

One of the highlights was when Bruce Johnston, who as it was pointed out is the only member of the group with a songwriting Grammy (for Barry Manilow's "I Write the Songs"), delivered a lovely rendition of a song from the group's back catalog called "Disney Girls."

I wouldn't consider myself a particularly big fan of The Beach Boys, but one of the albums my mom owned back in the day was theirs. My two favorite hits were on the setlist -- "Wouldn't It Be Nice" (which might have been the most popular song of the night by crowd reaction save eventual closer "Fun Fun Fun") and "God Only Knows."

"Good Vibrations" surprisingly didn't really deliver all that great a vibe, and the fact that the crowd stayed seated for it sort of backs up that supposition. But everyone but me (and the four people who filed out at that point) sure seemed to appreciate the encore "Kokomo."

The sole nod to "The Beach Boys Christmas" billing was "Little Saint Nick," and the snow falling in the background drew oohs and aahs from the audience, who probably won't have quite the same reaction when they have to start shoveling the white stuff. But with Jack Frost nipping at our noses outside, it was nice to kick off the holiday season with some warmth, sunshine and Stamos.

I got Frakesed!

2011-10-14T15:25:00.026-04:00

It's always a joyous occasion when hockey season begins, cause I get to see more of my sister who lives in Florida. And while this year's Devils opener wound up being unceremonious (save the return of Petr Sykora and Zach Parise sporting the "C"), we did manage to have some fun that day at the Garden State Comic Con.

I was most anxious to meet Jonathan Frakes -- Commander Riker on "Star Trek: The Next Generation" to most of the attendees but Mr. Francis to me -- and it happened more quickly than I expected as I made my way into the main room of the convention.

The big plan was to pay my dough in order to get a picture taken. I was going to say that I very much enjoyed "Bar Karma," which was directed by Mr. Frakes and starred his wife, the ever lovely and talented Genie Francis, for Current TV. (Catch the whole episode here http://current.com/shows/bar-karma/episodes/109/; the player link below is just a taste.)

I was just getting ready to hand over my camera to someone I didn't know, always cause for concern in terms of getting a nice photo, when my sis popped up out of seemingly nowhere to handle the chore. So I said what I wanted to about "Bar Karma," and Mr. Frakes quickly deflected credit to his wife. "She was wonderful," he said. "Yes, she was" was my not very pithy response.

Now sis was snapping the picture and ... darn, if I didn't have my eyes closed in true Schector tradition. Luckily she picked up on that, and the other person in the photo graciously offered to do another. (By the way, the man is massive! I felt like a peanut in his palm.)

By the way, Mr. Paige (aka Mark) later texted his envy, since he's a big "Trek" fan -- not in that scary really-needs-to-be-boomed-into-a-loony-bin kinda way.

When Mr. Frakes went off to be gracious with another fan and my sis went back to scouring the tables, I realized how surrounded I was by celebs. (Guess I had tunnel vision or just didn't expect them all to be there at once or something.) Next to Mr. Francis was Marina Sirtis, also of "ST:TNG." Next to her was Davy Jones of The Monkees and Barbara Eden, of course best known for "I Dream of Jeannie." The latter two seemed to have more energy than I did. And next to Jeannie was Hayden Panettiere, who I saw grow up on soaps and "Ally McBeal" before "Heroes" was ever in and then out of vogue.

Across from them ... and this tripped me up a little ... was Nicholas Brendon from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Only thing is, also at that table was Kelly Donovan, Nicholas' twin brother, who appeared in two episodes of the show -- notably "The Replacement," in which Xander's double was created by a demon. And I must have been focusing on Kelly for a couple of minutes, before I realized that Nicholas was also at the table.

Luckily the brain cells did finally start functioning and I snapped some pictures. At one point, Nicholas -- yes, I'm sure -- looked over and did one of those silent "hi" things that happens when you mouth a word but no sound actually comes out.

Then I perused the items at the various tables. The fiance always says I can sniff out something from "General Hospital" a mile away, and truth be told, I had already procured a couple DVDs with some great '80s footage with Luke and Laura (Mrs. Frakes!!) and Tracy and Edward and Blackie and my all-time favorite, Tiffany. Speaking of Blackie, The VHS Preservation Society booth had John Stamos' "Never Too Young to Die," which sis snagged for me as part of a deal.

At some point, I needed some food, so I went out in the lobby to see what was available ... and that's when I saw Mr. Francis again! He was signing out at the desk and he turned and saw me and he did this ... well, all I can say is that it was kind of adorable. The big hulk sort of hunched over, smiled broadly and waved vigorously back and forth like a windshield wiper. This has already become a verb in the lexicon with my sis -- he Frakesed me.

And that was my day at the Comic Con, save seeing a Storm Trooper walking up and down the halls and other such elaborately costumed denizens. Personally, I think the acquisition of the day might have been a T-shirt sis got "And then Buffy staked Edward."

No, you won't shut us down

2011-09-28T13:09:00.034-04:00

Sometime in the course of Park's attempt to get to the Lindsey Buckingham show at Town Hall in New York City, my sister mused about artists finding out what people went through to be at a show. In this case, they might never know why there were empty seats at a show that had been eagerly awaited since it was announced. Anyway, here's my tale.

Like a good mother's daughter, we dutifully left four hours before the show so we could meet up with another friend -- Jenna, who I met on the Stevie Nicks signing line a couple years back. And thanks to failed signals (in Newark) and a disabled train (in the tunnel just before Penn Station) that lengthened the one-hour trip, we didn't even see her before the show.

We spent a couple hours cooling our heels on the train because of all the "Trouble." We were about to "Go Insane," because they were trying to "Shut Us Down." They'd "Gone Too Far" and it felt like we were going to be there "In Our Own Time" and not Lindsey's. High "Treason," if you ask me. (OK, I'll stop now.)

As fortune would have it, a couple from Toronto had gotten on from Rahway and they were going to the show too. They were doing an ultimate road trip -- nine shows -- two of which they had seen so far. According to Bree, there was always something weird that happened en route to a show (so obviously this whole mess was HER fault), but she had not missed even the start of one yet.

In fact, the freelance filmmaker and traveling companion Rob have been making a tour diary to document the stories that others found unbelievable. Mark and I got to be part of this particular one. After one hour, everyone was still upbeat. Two hours, maybe the worry started to creep in a little. A half hour later and the unrealistic plans started to be hatched (Should we switch to the PATH? Should we try and get a cab?)

So with about 20 minutes before the show was set to start, we finally got sprung and made the quick trek over to Town Hall where ... the lights hadn't even gone down yet. We made it!

And although we rationalized on the walk over that we would survive if we missed the first few numbers, I'm sure glad we didn't. The first five were amazing acoustic performances just belted out one after the other by Lindsey. "Shut Us Down," "Go Insane," "Trouble," "Never Going Back Again" and "Big Love." One seemingly more powerful than the next.

Then we got the band, with the ever-affable and versatile Brett Tuggle (Brett Giggle, if you ever try to text his name to someone that comes up as the default even if you pick Tuggle), lean guitarist Neale Heywood and expressive drummer Walfredo Reyes. They delivered a lovely version of "Under the Skin," this song really stuck with me and was still resonating after the show ended as well as the very soothing "All My Sorrows."

Now thanks to Ticketbastard and its merchant, I didn't get the new CD (which was preordered when I bought the tickets for the show) until the day before the concert. And so I didn't get to get too comfortable with the new material, but Lindsey plucked some of the more choice titles from the effort for the show, including "In Our Own Time," "Illumination," "Stars Are Crazy" and "End of Time." My current favorite track "That's the Way Love Goes" sounded particularly strong.

My only sticking point is Lindsey's profession that the new material is the best work he's ever done and a large leap forward. I don't doubt him for believing it to be true -- he's a renowned perfectionist and there's a lot of fine guitar work in the songs. There's just got to be a better way to voice that sentiment without it coming at the expense of his other material, not just with the Mac but his other solo albums as well. There's a fire in many of those songs that has attracted the audience who came to Town Hall to see him. Many of whom, I'm sorry to say and which I would never do personally, took a lot of breaks during the new stuff.

But for me and Mark, the show seemed to go by super-fast and Lindsey was into "Second Hand News" and "Tusk" before we knew it. Mark kept saying "Already?" And special note for "I'm So Afraid," because seeing this live is Lindsey wielding a vacuum instead of a Turner guitar, he just turns it toward the audience and sucks everyone right in. It's a song of amazing power in concert and something you can't even get from the best recorded copy of the show.

Another "Already?" from Mark as the opening notes of "Go Your Own Way" were sounded. And then we went our own way ... all the way down the aisle to the stage where I stood (with Bree) as Lindsey's feet for the final three songs ("Turn It On," "Treason" and "Seeds We Sow.") Got eye contact too and kind of a "Am I supposed to know her?" look from Lindsey and a great thumbs-up from Brett.

So amazing to be standing at his feet -- and reminiscent of when Park did that for a whole Mac show at the Izod Center -- and to watch where he was looking and the way he plays the guitar. From Row P, it's all so intense and he just gives every song, every word, every note everything he has. Standing at his feet, completely exhausting -- in the best way possible.

After the show (and after finally meeting up with Jenna), I drew the comparison to the way the late great Stevie Ray Vaughan worked. An analogy Mark quickly took to. He later offered a description of Lindsey's writing style as drawing you in with the hook and then smashing you in the face with a brick with the lyrics. And it's both of these powers that seemingly will always bring us back until ... the "End of Time."

Soul Stew renaissance

2011-09-11T12:48:00.033-04:00

I'm gonna tell you right now that I can't do it. In words, I can't explain what it was like to be at the Tedeschi Trucks Band show at the Beacon Theater on Sept. 10, 2011.
Because if I say that Susan Tedeschi might just be the best singer I've ever heard and if I tell you that there's seemingly no way that Derek Trucks can get better when he was already on the top of his game and atop the guitar world, it's gonna sound hollow and false.
But that's the way it was.
And I don't use those words lightly, I've seen a lot of great shows -- Susan and Derek's, separately and together, among them. A couple years ago, spent a fabulous weekend in New England catching two shows in their first incarnation as "Soul Stew Revival." (Which reminds me that the seemingly only flaw in their armor is a boring band name, the Soul Stew moniker was very, well, hearty.)
And the Soul Stew shows were amazing. A lot of fun and great, seamless music. But somehow they've found a whole different level.

Susan has always been off the beaten path, something I tend to take to across the board when it comes to declaring favorites. Kinda like early Bonnie Raitt, with the unfathomable ability to be spectacular on two fronts, singing and playing the guitar. I've seen her sing counterparts off the stage, but I never had tears welling in my eyes as many times as she made that happen at the Beacon.
And her guitar playing was just incendiary, her solos were just as powerful. You have to see this petite woman with the small speaking voice belting out the tunes like a rock 'n' roll torch singer and using her high heels to pump the wah-wah pedal to believe it.
As I mentioned earlier, I've seen Derek quite a few times in different bands. And I don't know why, but during those shows, I never really thought back to the first time, when he was a 14-year-old novelty act. A kid who could wail on a slide guitar practically bigger than he was. And everyone was so knocked out because he sounded like the guitar gods we'd all love to be able to emulate.
Well, he's one of them now. And right now, he feels like the best of them. In order to ascend to that plane, you have to be reverential about the music that inspired you, but somehow make it your own. And that's something I haven't really found to be true about the guitarists of his generation. In the truest mold of a blues musician, he's taken what he needs from what went before and created something that sounds like Derek Trucks. Without seeing him, you'd know in a heartbeat it was him.

But that's short-selling the equation, because Tedeschi Trucks Band is not just about the blues. It's about music across the board and all kinds of sounds -- soul and country and funk and rock 'n' roll.
And it's not just about Susan and Derek either, because they've put together a really great group of musicians who can spin on a dime. Lots of familiar names in the mix too -- the Burbridge brothers (dynamic Kofi on keyboards -- and note from Mark, sigh, flute -- and Oteil burning up the bass), Mike Mattison stepping to the side to do killer backup vocals with Mark Rivers, drummers Tyler Greenwell AND J.J. Johnson really driving the action in perfect syncopation by beating the snot out of their skins and the brassy trio of Kebbi Williams (sax), Maurice Brown (trumpet) and Saunders Sermons (trombone) in perfect co-existence.
So they blazed their way through a set that included "Don't Let Me Slide" (this has a separate life in one of the other six obsessive-compulsive tracks that run through my brain, so I was glad to put that aside quickly), the life-affirming "Space Captain" as part of the perfect mix of songs from the new album (and yes, they did release it on vinyl and I have it in that format) "Revelator" and covers they've claimed as their own.

"Until You Remember," "Midnight in Harlem," "Come See About Me" and "Learn How to Love" are all examples of how to take what you record and then take it somewhere else entirely when you get on stage. All very distinctive and atmospheric and just an example of what music can be at its very heart.
The covers also span a wide array of style and moods. "Anyday" is a Derek and the Dominos classic that Derek and Susan have been doing together for years that doesn't even feel like it belongs to Eric Clapton anymore. Stevie Wonder's "Uptight (Everything's Alright)" is another example of a song everyone knows and loves that got a completely fresh take and gave the whole band a chance to show off their musicality and showmanship.
So many people know Ray Charles' "The Night Time (Is the Right Time)" from a very entertaining episode of "The Cosby Show," in which the family lip-synchs to the record to celebrate an anniversary. Well no lip-synching on our front, and the vocalists really dazzled on their respective turns. (Video here is from their previous show, but I think it still makes the point.)
Mark called Tedeschi Trucks Band a modern-day Sly and the Family Stone, and that's a spot-on representation. If we needed further evidence of that, they barreled through a very engaging "Sing a Simple Song/Higher."

And since the Beacon is the de facto home of the Allman Brothers, Derek's most basic roots couldn't be and weren't left out. He delivered very tasty solos during "Coming Home" and "Anyday" so reminiscent of that sound that you recognize it immediately as being Allmanesque, but it reiterated how much he's grown since he joined forces with that group of relatives and friends.
So there's been a lot of praise dropped here, but I consider this last part to be of a pretty high caliber. In the middle of the worst time of year for me, it is far too easy for me to be "turned off" by something, even something I love. And I had some fear of that when we were walking up to the Beacon -- which reminds me of a totally unrelated story about how we were stopped because they were filming a Jeff Buckley movie ... the bad one. Anyway, it has happened before that I've gotten irritated and generally disinterested in something that I have great affinity for because of the stress quotient.
Not this time, baby. Exactly what my soul needed. Hey, I found the right words.

Forget Victoria, what's Paige's secret?

2011-07-25T17:40:00.005-04:00

Can't begin to imagine the number of miles that have been logged in the name of Rick Springfield. Let's see... Massapequa Park to Westbury Music Fair (twice, 'cause you have to count Mom going there and standing on line for four hours to get tickets as well as the actual show). Lake Worth to Orlando... Lake Worth to Hollywood... Stuart to North Lauderdale... Newark to Long Island ... not to mention shorter excursions like Jersey City/Newark to New York City.

But now, he's come to see me. Well, as close as we can get television's Dr. Noah Drake to pay a house call -- right down the block.

The day started off with a book signing at Barnes & Noble ... right down the other block. Since I got my copy signed last year, I had something very particular in mind. I wanted Rick to sign his autobiography, but for my longtime idol and inspiration Sharon Wyatt, best known as the irrepressible Tiffany Hill Donely on "General Hospital."

Sharon was diagnosed earlier this year with osteonecrosis. They removed part of her jaw and replaced it with a titanium plate. She will undergo another operation to replace that with part of her hip and the path to recover is long and arduous. So, with the help of my best YouTube buddy Steph (sappy) we've been sending her care packages every month to let her know we're thinking about her.

The brainstorm for this month's package was to get the book personalized for Sharon. Now it sounded great in theory several weeks ago, but as the day approached, I'll admit I started to worry about it a little. If you've ever been to a book signing, you know how fast everything moves. They're trying to get you in and out as quickly as possible. Which is totally understandable with so many people waiting, but not such a good thing when you have a tale to tell.

So it was a big secret -- only a handful of people knew about the plan, because I wasn't I sure I could pull it off to my satisfaction. So thanks to the few who did know for not spilling the beans and especially for supporting the concept.

So you wind up on a line that snakes up and down rows through the store. Mark was busy reading every book he could get his hands on. I concentrated on more lofty pursuits, like turning all the masking tape arrows so it looked like the line was supposed to be going in the opposite direction. What a rebel! It couldn't have made the process more of a mess than it was, believe me.

When it's finally my turn, I have my little spiel planned. I also have a Post-It Note that says "Sharon Wyatt" on the top of my book because they don't want to waste any time with the telling and/or spelling of names.

Spiel: Ask Rick if he heard what Sharon's been going through. (No, he didn't know.) Tell him. (I do ... and that's exactly when we're interrupted by the lady who had been before us, who, despite several warnings that he would only be signing BOOKS at his BOOK SIGNING, took that moment -- mine -- to thrust her CD at him to sign. Which, being a gentleman, he did, while he was reacting with sadness about Sharon's situation.) Ask him to write something special just for her. (He does -- "I miss u" with a heart, as you can see to the right.)

This all happens so quickly. I'd say about 30 seconds into it, it's time for our picture! (I can't really give you anything here, I don't remember it, I was so happy at getting my mission accomplished that it's totally not in my memory banks. But it's a nice pic and I certainly look more alive than when I met him when I was really really sick last October. Mark has a memory that I'll share, though. "He WAS smiling, this is just when the button pressed.")

So it's already been a pretty long day when we get to the State Theater. Can't beat parking five minutes after you've left the house, though. The Squirts, comprised of three members of Rick's backup band were the opening act, and they were very enjoyable with catchy lyrics and good musicianship. They've definitely picked up a trick or three from the boss.

Said boss professed to be exhausted a couple times during the night, but he seemed to tap into some energy reserves, because he was the appealing showman we lie in wait for. If he didn't tell us, we wouldn't have known he was winded by judging the dynamic way he delivered everything from the old chestnuts such as "Affair of the Heart," "Love Is Alright Tonight" and, of course, seminal hit "Jessie's Girl" to the new classics "What's Victoria's Secret?" and "Venus in Overdrive."

"It'salwayssomething" has become a staple for early in the set, and I appreciate it because it seems to be a phrase I repeat on a nightly basis at work. Mark says my loudest scream of the night came for "Jet," a Paul McCartney (& Wings) cover which I love but hadn't seen live yet. Great surprise, we thought that one had been retired.

"I'll Miss That Someday" was downright great. It sounded better than I've ever heard it before. It has special meaning for me now, because I used it as my 1,000th post in my YouTube tribute to Sharon, her "GH" co-star John Reilly and all the wonderful people I've met as a result and so I was sort of seeing in my head while he was performing the song. Got all verkemplt.

Would Rick speak about his DUI arrest or would he sweep it under the proverbial carpet? Well, his only planned reference to it was the first couple of lines to Joe Walsh's "Life's Been Good to Me" -- "My Maserati drives 185, I lost my license now I don't drive."

He was in a bit of a "restless" mood, his word not mine, so there were lots of off-the-cuff riffs and diversions in the set. When a fan gave him an Elvis figurine, he broke into a rollicking (and ironic) version of "Jailhouse Rock." He then asked for a Beatles figurine afterward. It seems like Rick's been watching "Glee," because he mashed up his own "I Get Excited" with The Animals' "House of the Rising Sun." And we got Jimi Hendrix's "Red House," which I love and Mark can't stand.

His guitar technician took it on the chin a couple times as one of Rick's axes after another hit the stage floor. It wasn't bothering one of them in the slightest. I got to the point where I was cringing as he threw them so I could avoid seeing the guitar carnage.

Six kids, ages 9 to 5, came on stage to sing the title line of "Don't Talk to Strangers," one more adorable than the next. But none of us were prepared for what came out of one 6-year-old boy's mouth. I can best describe it as the noise that Daryl Hannah's character makes when Tom asks her what her name is in "Splash." It really knocked the whole audience for a loop when that powerful screech came out of that little body.

Rick made his way into the crowd as he always does for "Human Touch," and as the throngs surged forth to try and pull his arm out of the socket, the only thought that crossed my mind was "Got 'er done at the book signing."

And like he sings, "we all need ... the (documented) human touch."

A night at the improv

2011-04-09T17:38:00.021-04:00

You never get the same show twice when you go to see Glenn Tilbrook. First there are the different variations -- solo acoustic, with the Fluffers and, of course, seminal '80s band Squeeze. But the one thing you'll be sure of is to come out as impressed as ever.

Second, most musicians have a forte -- something they're better at that something else. But not this guy. Glenn is an excellent vocalist (never hits a bum note I believe is the term Mark used), a consummate guitar player, a fascinating writer and a stellar showman.

For his latest gig at teeny tiny Maxwell's in Hoboken, he performed with just a guitar. Unless you count the iPad, which he made use of for accompaniment on select songs. And you can also count background vocals from the crowd, who hung on every word and/or note. (Well most of them, we'll just leave out the throngs in the back of the room who apparently came just to chat it up.)

The first eight or so songs of the set were all requests from the audience, including "Piccadilly," "Touching Me Touching You," "Black Sheep," "Another Nail in My Heart" and "By the Light of the Cash Machine." Nothing fazed the man, although he didn't seem particularly interested in "Maidstone."

But he took control of the setlist for "Take Me I'm Yours," utilizing the iPad (and a member of the audience to control the keys for part of it) to recreate the Middle Eastern sounds that emanated on the version that Glenn and Squeeze partner Chris Difford recreated for album "Desert Roses 2."

Left out of the mix were "Untouchable," which I heard during my exclusive soundcheck access -- OK, I was in the bathroom when he played it -- and the song on my t-shirt, "Black Coffee in Bed." But as a big believer in the art of the setlist, I didn't really miss them none neither. And a lot of songs that crossed my mind during the course of the show -- like "This Is Where You Ain't" and "Vanity Fair" -- wound up being played anyway. But I won't even try to take credit for the unexpected and exuberant "Harper Valley PTA."

In the intimate setting, everything sounded great. Songs that usually get a pass from me on the iPod, like the aforementioned "Black Sheep" and "Cash Machine" sounded fresh and benefited from the acoustic treatment, because the words resonated more. Even better, the likes of "Labelled with Love," "Some Fantastic Place" and "Still," the latter being what Mark probably would have yelled at if he wasn't standing next to a setlist purist.

Of course, he delivered quite a few others from the Squeeze catalog with vim and vigor -- "Annie Get Your Gun," "Up the Junction," "Vicky Verky," "If I Didn't Love You," "Pulling Mussels," "Slap and Tickle," "Is That Love" and "Goodbye Girl." On the first verse of "Tempted," part of the crowd began singing the backup vocals, so on the second verse he had the audience sing the main part and he animatedly took control of the background.

Glenn mentioned that he and Squeeze had been on stage at London's famed Royal Albert Hall weeks earlier. Now it was just him, his moustachioed compadre, his guitar and his iPad and he couldn't have looked happier. Nor could any of us.

Now that's what I call music

2011-03-29T22:40:00.036-04:00

On the way up the street a couple miles to the State Theater in New Brunswick, the cab driver had a Kanye West song blaring. Rihanna was doing atmospheric vocals. But the whole thing was leaving me colder than the freezing temperatures outside. It wasn't until an hour or so later that I figured out why.

The occasion was Jeff Beck's Rock 'N' Roll Party, and the mini-tour had stopped in New Brunswick -- home of the late, great Les Paul, to whom much of the show was inspired by. And from the opening notes of "Baby, Let's Play House" to the final refrain of "Danny Boy," I was enraptured.

Jeff enlisted the Imelda May Band, whose namesake is a torch singer trapped in the body of a consummate James Bond villainess. Imelda's husband, Darrel Higham, who can deliver classic '50s songs like he just stepped out of a time machine, kicked off the Party with a rousing "Baby, Let's Play House."

Of course, the real revelation -- even after a few shows for me now -- is still Jeff Beck. I would probably be classified, in general, as a person who tends to take instant likes (or dislikes) musically and I don't often change my mind either way. And no matter how much I enjoyed his kitschy video for "Ambitious" in the '80s, I never took to him the way I really wanted to.

Then I started seeing him live. And now for me, well, I just wouldn't compare him negatively to anyone -- and I mean ANY ONE. His trademark style always seemed a little disjointed to me, I guess it didn't sort of get to the heart of the matter for me like Eric Clapton did. But after seeing my first couple of shows with Jeff, I realized that was my improper assessment of his talent and soul, and not anything he was doing directly.

The man is a master. He knows exactly what he wants out of a song, and he knows exactly how to get it. That was never more apparent than at the Rock 'N' Roll Party. The songs he covered are classics, and hard-to-play ones at that (particularly those of Les Paul, as Mark pointed out). But he approaches all of them with such reverence and such talent that they sound 1.) exactly the way you need them to, but also 2.) fresher than they have any right to.

The first part of the show featured songs by legendary Les and a lot are numbers I either forgot or didn't know were his -- "Cry Me a River", "How High the Moon," "Vaya Con Dios," "Mockingbird Hill" and Imelda's favorites "Tiger Rag." And, of course, the likes of "Train Kept A-Rollin,'" "I'm Sitting on Top of the World" and "That's All Right." Every one of them just immaculately delivered by Imelda (even matching her prerecorded backup vocals, which had to be incredibly difficult for everyone involved) and with pinpoint perfection by Jeff.

Jeff rolled out the brass for "Peter Gunn" and the festivities went to another level. "Sleepwalk," another song everyone knows so well by heart, cut right to the core and there was a great laugh as Jeff recovered his slide for the final notes. Imelda belted out incendiary versions of "Please Mr. Jailer" and "Casting a Spell on You" and even shared the mic with Jeff (?!?!) for backup vocals on Darrel's cool cover of Little Richard's "The Girl Can't Help It." He also did justice to "Rock Around the Clock" and "Hound Dog," the latter of which appeared to be ending when it kicked into a slowed-down bluesy version.

But I've neglected to mention the showstopper for me (Mark's too!) -- Remember (Walking in the Sand). Mere words can't do this one justice, so do us both a favor and click on the video at the top of the blog and check it out yourself (although this is from the previous night's show at the Beacon). Just the perfect match of Imelda's voice and Jeff's guitar. Not meaning to insinuate in the slightest that the others weren't, because there wasn't a false note in the show -- literally and figuratively.

I started wondering if my mom would really enjoy hearing all these songs from her era, freshly delivered. And if Kanye would. Spinning this kind of material through his talent would make it come alive for the next generation -- the essence of music itself.

While I gently weep at the guitar

2010-11-11T00:44:00.026-05:00

I am thrice Experienced! Wednesday night was my third Experience Hendrix show, back at the Beacon (thank Gawd!)

And talk about being third time charmed. I wasn't prepared for the ultimate surprise -- Jimi's Woodstock Stratocaster was in the building ... and used on stage by Eric Johnson and Kenny Wayne Shepherd! (This must be my year for seeing legendary guitars following Eric Clapton's Blackie and George Harrison's Gibson at Crossroads.)

The Woodstock Strat was truly mesmerizing. And for the record, Eric J. sort of let it play him on "Are You Experienced?" But Kenny Wayne play-ed it on "I Don't Live Today" and "Let the Good Times Roll." And in my breastplate, I felt an inkling of what the assembled masses at Yasgur's Farm did all those years ago.

On to the highlights and lowlights:

Most inspired matchup: They saved the best for first. Hendrix's Band of Gypsys bandmate Billy Cox, former Stevie Ray Vaughan drummer Chris Layton and Isley Brothers' axe slinger Ernie Isley. Isley burned on "Manic Depression" and reached into the Hendrixian bag of guitar-playing tricks (over the shoulder ... with his mouth) for "Amazing Grace." Didn't even cross my mind that I wasn't hearing my all-time favorite song -- the Isleys' "This Old Heart of Mine."

Most uninspired matchup: Poor Jonny Lang. He gamely performed "All Along the Watchtower" and "The Wind Cries Mary" with Aerosmith's Brad Whitford, but Whitford's solos were somnambulistic. Susan Tedeschi, Robert Randolph and Living Colour's Corey Glover and Vernon Reid did their part to aid Jonny's cause, adding spirited backing vocals on "Fire."

Most unintentional pop culture references: Corey Glover looked like a slimmed-down Rerun from "What's Happening," with his grandpa cap, checkered jacket and before-its-time hip-hoppy dance moves. But gotta go with Kenny Wayne Shepherd, who came off like Jon Heder in "Blades of Glory," complete with hair flip.

Best example of female power: Only two options, but both great -- Jimi's sister Janie, who has kept a careful watch over the Hendrix catalog and its releases, and the ever-powerful Susan Tedeschi, the tour's Foxey Lady in a shimmery silver dress. Gotta go with Susan, particularly for her dazzling takes on "If 6 Were 9" and "Spanish Castle Magic."

Best use of the Hendrix spirit: I wouldn't call Steve Vai my favorite of the night, but he was the performer who delivered the most Hendrixian-inspired performance. He mixed Jimi's trademark style with his own, particularly on "May This Be Love," rather than just give some kind of karaoke guitar performance of the classic songs.

Best example of what not to cover: You would think that guitar world would have been aware of how Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood just murderalized "Voodoo Chile" on their reunion tours/at Crossroads and avoid it at all costs. But Kenny Wayne Shepherd (and his usual lead singer Noah Hunt) tried ... and fell short mightily. (The assembled patronage going wild for it obviously didn't see any of the EC/SW shows.)

My favorite of the night (obviously not involving the Woodstock Strat since that CAN NOT be topped): The nominees are: "Crosstown Traffic" (with Living Colour's Corey Glover and Robert Randolph), Ernie Isley's "Manic Depression" and Kenny Wayne Shepherd's "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return). Will go with "Crosstown Traffic," particularly for symmetrical reasons, since at the time 'Ark was winding his way through the city to the event.

Sick? Go see the doctor!

2010-11-04T13:52:00.021-04:00

On Oct. 13, I was in the midst of a pretty bad battle with the dreaded flu bug. Rick Springfield was in the state doing a signing for his New York Times best seller "Late, Late at Night."

The stars weren't exactly aligned for me to go. I had taken the day off from work, but I really needed some rest and Mark was off to Home Depot to fill out all the requisite paperwork for his new job and it didn't seem like there would be enough time to get 'er done.

But then a text message, "I'm on my way back ... let's go see, Rick." And despite some reservations about making my first love ill (not to mention scads of loyal fans), I prepared to go. I wasn't sure we'd even make it, since the signing started at 1 p.m. and that's pretty much the time we left our abode.

We did get to Bookends (so named because it's at the end of New Jersey? OK, only Ridgewood) in time. And I dutifully bought my book and got on the line to wait my turn. We winded around and around and around, but I felt sicker and sicker as we worked our way to the front.

There had been a bit of a verbal scrum with Mark during the course of the wait. He wanted to take a picture with me and Rick, but I didn't want to because I 1.) looked like death and he looked like a million bucks, 2.) had my glasses on, 3.) had no makeup on and 4.) did I mention, I looked like death? But he talked me into it -- weakened condition!!! -- by saying that we could always keep it just for us and have no one else see it.

Now the first time I got to meet Rick, it was a total surprise. Sis and brother-in-law and I were going to a show and there was a surprise signing set up at a neighboring record store. (Well, surprise to us anyway.) And when it was my turn, I had to walk a bit of a distance from the line to the man. And I just couldn't say anything. So Sis helped me out ... by yelling "Talk!" and that opened up the gates for a flurry of comments.

This time, I don't know if it was my bloodless state of illness, but I didn't freeze up. Gave him my book, told him how to spell my name and moved closer for the picture (ahhhh, he's rubbing my back. Nice, healing Dr. Drake). I can still feel the fabric of his coat.

And then I blurted out the little speech I had prepared, kind of in some semblance of order. During the New York show, I had this realization that maybe Rick's affinity for the likes of Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix had been a gateway to my deep love for their music. I told him (the way I remember it, anyway) that I hoped he always included a cover like "Crossroads" or "Fire" in his shows, and I probably loved those artists so much because of the many hours spent in my bedroom air guitaring to his records! I got a nice hearty chuckle at that one too.

And that was it. Short and sweet. And we're back in the truck and I look at the picture that was taken and, hey, it's not half bad actually. Mark said I was beaming for three seconds while it was taken. Well, what kind of cure would you expect from a TV doctor, anyway? ;)

How I learned my ABC's

2010-09-26T14:25:00.017-04:00

As you know, by nature, concerts are a real sensory experience. It's more than just going to hear a musician and/or group drive through a setlist to get to his/her/their biggest hits. The memories and emotions that come up can be unexpected and even revelatory.

That definitely was the case for me at the Nokia Theater last night. I don't know how many times I've seen Rick Springfield, but it's got to be at least a dozen by now. And as much fun as I have rocking out, I have as much recapturing the old feelings.

So they had two "adult beverages" for sale with sort of familiar monikers: A "Port Charles," some kind of sour apple concoction and the "Dr. Noah Drake" -- Absolut Pepper, lime and soda. I chose the latter, thinking that the former would have had my eyes watering. Ha on me, my nostrils are still inflamed from Dr. Drake. And my quip to the bartender -- "This tastes nothing like him!" (As if I would know!)

It was Mark's second Rick concert, and lest you think he's being dragged, he actually likes the guy and bemoans the "teen idol" status that will forever keep him from being recognized as an actual musician and -- wait for it -- solid guitarist!

We also met a really cool couple. The man, from England, is a HUGE Rick fan and his wife, from Albania, had never seen him before. And we had some pretty impressive seats -- four rows from the stage on the left. Mark noted that the speakers in front of us had wayward rose petals near it, fallout from Rick's proclivity for shredding roses fans give him on the guitar.

The show starts with "Who Killed Rock N Roll" and I'm just rocking out and lip-synching, 'cause people are there to hear him and NOT my voice. And then "I've Done Everything for You," and now the flood of flashbacks start. At some point, I noticed I was playing air guitar, and that's something I can't remember not doing. I learned air guitar from Rick Springfield!!!

"Affair of the Heart" ... always one of my personal favorites ... and I'm still air guitar-ing along ... and remembering sitting in front of MTV for hours, just waiting for the video to come back on again. "I don't have to look any further than into your eyes."

"Living in Oz," the title track from one of his best albums and Rick and I are having similar hair problems, namely the hair's in our respective faces while we're rocking out. ... "What's Victoria's Secret?" If I can properly call a Rick song "insidious" it's this one, because it gets stuck in your head for weeks! ... "Alyson" and always trying to figure out who his co-star was. (Maybe his autobiography coming out next month will shed some light on that.)

"Venus in Overdrive" and Rick points out his cue cards courtesy of the "Yeah, Yeah Girls" (each one has one that says "Yeah") ... "I'll Miss That Someday," a great example of how Rick can mix really heartfelt emotion with a penchant for rocking out. ... "Love Is Alright Tonight," the song that was in my head prior to the show. And I can see 14-year-old Paige rocking out in the bedroom...

Then Rick gets serious. He noodles around with some riffs -- and won't be denied by the still squealing female fans -- en route to a very spirited cover of Jimi Hendrix's "Fire." So spirited, in fact, that I was in full hippie rockout mode. Whirling dervish mode, I believe Mark would call it. And so dervishy that it took me half of "Don't Talk to Strangers" to recover -- to be specific, the part in which (the backup band) sings in French.

But then another revelation. Was Rick my "gateway" to my extreme love for Clapton and Hendrix? Because those guys, in turn, led me their inspirations (Muddy Waters, the three Kings, Buddy Guy, Robert Johnson). Even if I didn't know at the time that Rick was studiously trying to copy "Crossroads" note for note, some of that had to appear in his music and, thusly, was passed on to me.

Of course, there was lots of Rick banter between songs. He was given a sippy cup (with the stopper still in it!) full of wine, which he heartily drank throughout the show. One of the guys in the crowd had a hat that rivaled bassist Matt's, so that became a running theme in the show. And as always, much fun with crowd participation on "Don't Talk to Strangers."

Rick always puts down his feature film, "Hard to Hold," deeming it "Hard to Watch," but I'd like to remind him that he got good reviews for it, even if the movie itself didn't. And I could point out the time I took a middle-aged newspaper columnist to the movie ... and he enjoyed it! Anyway, cue "Love Somebody" and more air guitar.

"Human Touch" ... which gets him all kinds of pinched and rubbed on, but not me, 'cause he didn't get near us. (And that's not me anyway, however, I do think the two ladies in front of us woulda left some bruises.) And "Jessie's Girl." I hadn't heard that one before. ;)

"Jesus Saves," which I expected would be Mark's favorite -- and it was -- and "Kristina," reminding me as always of being at a March of Dimes walk-a-thon with my sister -- two headphones plugged into one Walkman jack and listening to that song.

And then that was it. Didn't it just start? Well, thanks for the history lesson, Teach. I'll miss that someday...

Naked in New York

2010-08-23T13:48:00.018-04:00

When I first saw "Across the Universe" -- the movie built on Beatles songs and references -- I thought the Janis Joplinian character was soulful, raspy-voiced singer Joan Osborne. Of course, she turned out to be soulful, raspy-voiced singer Dana Fuchs.

And until the Rubin Museum of Art's series "Naked Soul," I thought they were kind of two sides of the same coin. Joan started out on a bluesy trek, no doubt inspired by the Etta James and Howlin' Wolf records she was listening too, but has sort of -- and I hesitate to use this word because of its negative connotations -- mellowed. Meanwhile, Dana, well, Dana just belts for days.

In "Naked Soul," the artist performs totally acoustic. Not MTV Unplugged idea of acoustic, but without microphone or amplification of any kind to 120-something people in a tiny room at the Himalayan museum. And that's where the differences become even more apparent. Both artists also were able to tour the museum and picked out pieces that were shown behind them on the projector during particular songs.

Dana appeared with her musical partner (and former beau) Jon in July, hot off a vibrant European tour in which audiences gave her the adulation she richly deserves from her home country. That transformed her both on and off the stage, resulting in several great new songs being prepared for her first album in years.

Now in the relative safety of the small room, with the paintings for inspiration and patrons able to understand English (the only thing apparently missing during their European sojourn), Dana emotionally detailed the various songs on the setlist.

The show stopper was "Summersong," a very catchy little ditty that stayed in our heads for days afterward. Since the song utilized percussion and backup singers in the studio, Dana wasn't sure it would translate in the intimate setting. It did that, and then some. "That didn't work at all," an audience member quipped after the song garnered the most applause of any number of the night.

"Nothing's What I Cry For," "Set It on Fire" and "Keep on Rolling" also ensured that Dana's future setlists not only won't suffer from the addition of new material, but will flourish instead. And there will always be room in the setlist for the likes of "Drive," "Bible Baby" and the dynamic cover of "Helter Skelter."

It took both Dana and Joan a number or so to settle into the environs, to figure out how much the tambourine or other assorted noisemakers should be factored into the mix without unsettling the backup musician. (Joan added she hadn't performed without a microphone since elementary school.) But then they both quickly embraced the medium and flourished in it.

Whereas Dana powered on with her vocals -- which was very necessary in the face of a crowd eager to provide hand clapping or singing and just remain in the mix -- Joan was able to modulate her voice before an audience that quietly sat enraptured until the last note of each song was played.

With Keith Cotton providing piano and backup vocals Saturday, Joan created picture postcards before us in a way that reminded me of watching theater. She also had new songs to mix among old favorites like "St. Teresa," "Spider Web" and, of course, her hit "One of Us." She had a clear-cut future single in "The Next Sensation I Feel," which rolled along like a double-decker train darting down the tracks.

Joan paid homage to quite a few influences with Billie Holliday's "God Bless the Child," which she told us was the first song she ever sang publicly, Sly and the Family Stone's "Everybody Is a Star" and Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" (performed the way she used to in the Village with a line from Emmylou Harris' "Boulder to Birmingham").

If only the mainstream would give tunes like "Summersong" or "The Next Sensation I Feel" a chance and stop force-feeding us things they think we want to hear. Then the music scene could get more naked -- not in the way the tweenyboppers actually wear next to nothing -- but just at the core of the music where catchy riffs, lyrics that ring true and sheer talent will always pull us all in.

Save Me, If You Please

2010-06-27T19:43:00.023-04:00

Three years ago, when I happened across EC Access (not to be overly dramatic, but yeah, it sure changed my destiny), I found out that I had just missed Eric Clapton's Crossroads Guitar Festival by a couple of weeks. I vowed at that time it wouldn't happen again.

It didn't.

All that despite the fact that it meant not sleeping for two of three nights involved (and probably not getting enough sleep on the third one) to actually get to and fro the all-day music fest and that I'd have to book-end the trip with two rather hellish days at work. But it's all worth it, right?

Frankly it's all worth it just to see the friends that I made at EC Access. The site has since become a joke, and any benefits that you get from the club on the American side of the pond frankly aren't worth the cost of a year's membership. But I got exactly what I needed from ECA in my short time there -- a group of crazy cool whackos who I have a good time with no matter what we're doing.

So I just had to (and did) know that when I finally got to the hotel we were all staying at in downtown Chicago that no, I wouldn't be allowed to get some rest. And yes, I'd be going along to a club to see Albert Lee and Vince Gill with my compadres.

The club Martyr's was packed to the (Vince) gills, and it was way too hot to stay in there for any extended time. So basically, we spent most of the night sitting outside, chatting amongst ourselves and anyone who came by. See Ritu's photo at left...

Our group is ever-expanding, because there are just so many groovy people who love the music. So we got to add the dynamic duo of LuAnn (a.k.a. Stained Glass) and Jay (a.k.a. Fat Fingers) to our ranks this year. And I finally got to meet some of the people I had talked to in my initial days on ECA, like "The Fool" (Rob) and chitownmike (Mike, duh). And best of all, beaucoups hugs and laughs with my girls Sus and Georgette. ... I don't want to leave anyone out ... Pam, Bruce, Renee, the Swedes, Willie, Mark, buttnugget Rooster, Melissa.

For me, going to Crossroads is mostly about these friendships and the laughs and the in-jokes that will last a lifetime, because frankly we won't let them die. Like Ritu stealing her own purse in the VIP lounge, playing lost and found with Rooster and Susan and Pam both taking untimely spills within hours of each other (which would be a lot funnier if Sus didn't actually mess herself up).

But the music, well, that wasn't bad either. So in the Woodstock tradition (OK, it was just last year's anniversary concert, but all traditions gotta start somewhere, here are the high and lowlights).

Best Use of God-like Powers: In opening the festival, Eric "Is God" Clapton declared that the rain and storms forecasted all week should stay away. And they did! Not a drop.

Best Intro: Bill Murray did a phenomenal job introducing the acts throughout the day, sometimes costumed up head to toe as the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Buddy Holly. In probably his best line of the day, he brought on ZZ Top with praise for them "never buying into the whole goatee thing."

Best Unexpected Pleasure: Stefan Grossman and Keb Mo. We'd been on an acoustic run that was lulling the overheated crowd into a slight state of coma, but when Keb joined Stefan, the result was a sweet little blues stew with echoes of Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters. (EC was seen at the side of the stage enjoying it just as much.)

Best Debut by a New Band: Now I thought this category was going to be taken by the new Derek Trucks-Susan Tedeschi band. And they were fabulous, even if the rumored collaboration with Doyle Bramhall II did not develop. The winner was Doyle's own new band Faded Boogie, verrrrrry funky. The set got slowed a bit by Sheryl Crow, whose new album Doyle produced, but guest spots from Trucks, Tedeschi (see next entry) and Clapton livened things up quite a bit.

Best Use of a Non-Guitar Instrument at a Guitar Festival: Susan Tedeschi's voice. Susan kicked major ass (especially Sheryl Crow's). Lest anyone fear, this girl can play the axe too. She basically kicked Sheryl's well-toned ass on that also, as well as quite a few of the guys in tow.

Best Teaming: If the fiance had been there, I'm sure he would have voted for the Robert Randolph-Joe Bonamassa combo, but hey he wasn't, and I'm not influenced by him anyway. So my winners are: Buddy Guy with the Rolling Stones' Ron Wood and Jonny Lang. On the surface, that grouping sounds like it could be: a.) spectacular or b.) a train wreck. It was definitely a. All the songs were winners, but the funkified "Miss You" with Buddy eventually taking vocals was a festival highlight.

Most Awkward Teaming: This was going to be for the cavalcade of musicians (Warren Haynes, Johnny Winter, members of Los Lobos) who gamely rolled in and out during the Trucks-Tedeschi set due to the absence of Gregg Allman, who underwent a much-needed liver transplant, but it's really gotta go to Citizen Cope as part of the Clapton set. If EC came out during CC's set, it mighta worked. Here, it just let the air out of the tires.

Worst Use of the Outdoor Environs: Clapton and Jeff Beck aren't that far removed from their joint tour in which they played several numbers together. The number chosen for Crossroads? Probably the most ill-suited of the lot, "Shake Your Moneymaker," a tight, small rocker better served in a confined space.

Best Use of the Outdoor Environs: Who would have thought that Blind Faith -- the supergroup that was deemed to be overhyped when they formed -- would become this timeless entity? Clapton and Steve Winwood had lots of practice together on their recent short tours, and the material sounded amazing cascading across the cloudy Chicago sky.

Best Use of Props: When Clapton, Winwood and company started "Voodoo Chile," the full moon peeked out from behind the clouds and then darted back in. As wonderful as this song sounded in an enclosed arena, it might have been even more resonant when played to the sky. A perfect song, as evidenced by the fact that the onlookers backstage quadrupled over the course of it.

Best (and Worst) Stream of Consciousness: Don't know if it was the late hour, the heat or his 84 years, but B.B. King was even more off the beaten path than usual when he sat down to mix his storytelling with guitar playing. Just as entertaining were the reactions coming from Eric Clapton (knowing amusement) and the usually non-emotive Robert Cray (borderline horror). Jimmie Vaughan just seemed to ignore it in favor of focusing on his riffs. And we STILL want to hear the end of the story about meeting Eric in a club with Janis Joplin that got interrupted when all the artists came back on stage for the finale. How about as an "Easter egg" on the DVD?

And although this was thought to be the last in a series of three, EC already seems to have misgivings about calling it a day on the Crossroads front. So see ya in 2013!

What Becomes an Epic Most?

2010-05-22T10:36:00.016-04:00

I had planned to start off this blog with a theory on the perils of seeing the same artist twice in one week (a.k.a Billy Joel-itis), but then I actually attended my second Pearl Jam show of the week and a new point emerged.

Madison Square Garden 2 probably has already taken its place amongst legendary Pearl Jam shows. In fact, it was predicted in fan circles to do that before it even occurred. So what gives a show that distinction? Is it the venue, the fact that it's the last show of a tour leg, the setlist and/or the performance?

In the case of all four, MSG shoots and scores. (Of course on the music front, since the Blueshirts didn't even make the playoffs. Really, how far did anyone who knows me think I'd get without a flip Rangers remark?)

But back to the show. Even before Pearl Jam had taken the stage, it was obvious that the sound in the Garden outpaced The Rock in Newark. Tuesday's show had its sonic moments, but it also made some songs seem very small and boxed in.

Enjoyed some pre-show amusement when a couple complained about the hallowed venue, saying it's basically a sports arena and not the old-fashioned theater they thought it would be. (Maybe they were thinking Radio City Music Hall.)

And for the end of the first leg of the 2010 tour, the guys pulled out all the stops. The setlist was a great blend of rarities and high-octane rock 'n' roll.

Set List: Corduroy, Hail Hail, Do The Evolution, World Wide Suicide, Got Some, Breath, Nothingman, I’m Open, Unthought Known, Grievance, Amongst The Waves, Present Tense, Not For You/Modern Girl, Push Me Pull Me, Rats, Daughter/WMA, The Fixer, Why Go

1st encore: The End with string quartet, Just Breathe with string quartet, Lukin II with string quartet, Black Red Yellow, Sweet Lew, Given To Fly, Spin The Black Circle, Rearviewmirror

2nd encore: Wasted Reprise, Better Man/Save It For Later, Black, The Real Me (Townshend), Hunger Strike, Alive, Kick Out The Jams, Yellow Ledbetter/Star Spangled Banner

"Corduroy" as opener signaled that they wanted to rock out the finale and the steady stream of pulse-pounders kept everyone on their feet. Noticed somewhere along the line that almost all the first singles from each album were represented.

The first evening shocker would probably be the one that I was hoping for. "Breath," another top five Pearl Jam song of mine came into play pretty quickly after being scratched from the Newark setlist. Gorgeous and it got the anticipation bug out of my system relatively early.

A bunch of songs that I wouldn't have put at the top of that list were truly dazzling. The audience helped out greatly with "Nothingman," it just kinda reverberated around your soul. Multiply that by like five when we eventually got to "Better Man," definitely one of my least favorites, but one of the many highlights of the night as the audience sang a verse and a chorus before Eddie chimed in with some urgent and throaty vocals and the band raised the song's usual tempo really drive the point home.

Back to the rarities: "Push Me, Pull Me" from my all-time fave Pearl Jam album, "Black Red Yellow" AND "Sweet Lew" in quick succession, Pete Townshend's "The Real Me" and "Kick Out the Jams." When you're in the middle of these kind of songs, you just kinda stand there with your mouth open going, "Really?"

Don't want to leave out the string quartet, which joined the fray for three songs during the first encore. Eddie's spiel on there being more than one way to skin a cat ("Who the fuck is out skinning cats?") led to the gorgeous reinvention of raucous "Lukin" as an acoustic number, and seemed unrecognizable to a huge faction of the audience until he got to the chorus.

On a personal note, it seemed like I got a lot of songs in the show that I'd rarely seen: "Spin the Black Circle" (which I apparently had never seen live), "Hail Hail," "Not for You," "Black," "Present Tense." Every single one of them just resonated. Like my good friend Liam said the other night, the band always brings it and, with all the rarities, it would be easy to sort of overlook the rest, but that would be wrong, wrong, wrong. Every song was just out of the park.

And then the monster. I've been to one other epic Pearl Jam show in the band's almost 20-year existence -- the 10-year anniversary show in Las Vegas. At that show, they tackled Mother Love Bone's signature song, "Crown of Thorns." On Friday, it was Temple of the Dog's "Hunger Strike," with Band of Horses frontman Ben Bridwell doing a great job handling Chris Cornell's chores.

The video's linked at the top of this blog. I don't know if it captures it for anyone not there, but it's still kicking my ass. Going right from that into "Alive" and singing the chorus was cathartic.

I'm so blown away, that I almost forgot the mention the harbinger of things to come -- the kick-ass poster. There's not enough room at Casa Park to hang every poster we have, but if you're gonna have a Kong reference... And unlike my first epic show, I managed not to leave my treasured keepsake in the cab.

Now I just gotta figure out a way of upping that epic ratio.

I Surfaced and All of My Being Was Enlightened

2010-05-19T07:32:00.023-04:00

I've always been one of those obsessive music fans. If I'm into something, I'm really into it. Listening to someone and almost no one else at a particular time. There are phases that I sort of outgrew (Tori Amos, Sarah McLachlan, Nirvana, Elliott Smith), some that are bound to reoccur (Eric Clapton, Jeff Buckley, Liz Phair, The Beatles) and some somewhere in the middle (Rick Springfield, Glenn Tilbrook, Pete Yorn, Van Morrison). And then there's Pearl Jam.

Pearl Jam's a band very near and dear to my heart, maybe because they're from my generation. They're around my age, so they've made music that strikes a literal chord with songs about things that I've gone through myself. So no matter what's going on, I know when I go to a Pearl Jam show that there's going to be an element of soul searching going on.

So I ventured to the Prudential Center in Newark with Liam -- my third straight PJ show with him. Not exactly the May trip that I planned to The Rock, for my other obsession, the New Jersey Devils, should be still playing there around this time. But definitely the perfect option for a first concert there.

Before the show we had dinner across the street and came up with a song each that we wanted to hear and one we decidedly didn't. His pick was Pearl Jam staple "State of Love and Trust" (aka "SOLAT") and mine was off the board, a cover they performed on the 2000 Tour, "Timeless Melody." I thought his odds were a lot better than mine. Neither of us got our picks, but that's not something that has ever bothered me, for I feel that the setlist is part of the artistic process and the songs played at a show are the ones meant to be played.

But having said that, it was rather righteous both of the choices for being not played actually weren't. Mine: "Last Kiss." His: "Jeremy." I would have gone for a second choice of "Better Man," also not played.

I did add that if the band wanted to play my all-time favorite PJ song, "In Hiding," for two hours, I wouldn't mind that one bit.

We had our familiar Ten Club seats, Stone side, back a couple sections and up on the risers. For Devils games, they're the top seats in the house -- the black pleather ones that are more comfortable. So we settled in and spent much of our time making fun of Roky Erickson's "Two Headed Dog" ahead of the amiable opener, Band of Horses. Eddie and lead singer Ben Bridwell's daughter, Annabelle, (2 years old Wednesday) helped them close the set with "Act Together."

And now on to the main attraction:
Set List: Of The Girl, Brain Of J, Do The Evolution, The Fixer, Alone, Amongst The Waves, Immortality, In Hiding, Even Flow, Insignificance, Supersonic, Brother, Glorified G, Daughter/Blitzkrieg Bop/WMA, Unthought Known, Leatherman, Lukin, Once

1st encore: Just Breathe, Footsteps, Inside Job, Got Some, Go

2nd encore: Jersey Girl, You Are, Whipping, Life Wasted, Alive, Indifference, All Along The Watchtower

Opening with "Of the Girl," wow! One of my very, very favorite songs and one I'd actually never heard in seven previous shows. It was going to be a good night, even if Stone seemed to be sporting my hair do.

There was something a little bizarre about the sound quality of the show. Some songs, "Even Flow" is a great example, filled the entire arena and others, like "Supersonic," seemed to be in a little box and very distant. The band still sounded great, but just not as cacophonous.

I didn't even think about the fact that the Devils still aren't playing ... OK, not for seven or eight songs anyway. Nor the fact that we were standing the whole time ... OK, maybe when we settled back into the pleather for a minute at the first break.

There were highlights that I probably wouldn't have previously called highlights from other shows -- "Immortality" and "Insignificance," in particular were knockouts. But if we're talking "knockout," then "In Hiding" has to be mentioned. Not two hours long, but still a very emotional four minutes.

We got "Glorified G" and "Leatherman," both of which we also heard in 2006, but lesser-played treats in the lexicon. And "Brother" and "Footsteps," played for the first time this tour. Hearing the opening salvo to "Once" really got the motor racing and there were fabulous versions of "Daughter" (with a great story about the original riff coming from a bathroom at a Motel 6 in Denver and "Blitzkrieg Bop" AND "WMA" tags), "Go" and "Whipping" as well.

Eddie told a very touching story after the first encore about a Pearl Jam fan who had written a heartfelt tribute to his father, who is battling illness. He praised the son's reverence for his dad and dedicated "Just Breathe" and the later "Alive" to them.

And you know how the more things change, the more they stay the same? Lots of great interplay between Jeff and Stone. Mike's amazing guitar and energy. Eddie's voice sounded amazing. Matt's driving beat. And there was something very assuring about the fact that Eddie and Stone still butt heads from time to time, even after 20 years. This little fracas came after covering "Jersey Girl," getting a chorus of "Bruuuuuce" from the audience and Eddie adding that he loves Bruce but Tom Waits actually wrote the song. "Twenty years and it's ending tonight!" Eddie chided.

I thought we were ending on a fabulous "Indifference," but then Ben Bridwell came out to help close the show with a charged "All Along the Watchtower."

So "how much difference does it make?" Quite a bit.

Clapton, Beck ... and Paige

2010-02-22T18:37:00.021-05:00

I'm not sure what expectations I went into Saturday's Jeff Beck/Eric Clapton concert with -- aside from the persistent rumor that Jimmy Page was reportedly backstage at the Garden and possibly would make an appearance in the show to complete the dream lineup with all three Yardbirds -- but whatever they were, they were exceeded and then some.

I'd always thought of Jeff Beck as a master of the guitar, but one who just used speed and agility to make the musical point. This after years of seeing video of events like the Arms concert and the Crossroads Guitar Festival. (Oh and possibly my favorite video of the '80s, "Ambitious," which features a host of familiar faces -- Donny Osmond, Marilyn McCoo and even Tattoo from "Fantasy Island" -- auditioning to be the vocalist on the song) But I'm happy to have been proved way off base.

I was knocked flat by the 45-minute set that he opened the show with. Whether it was just with his kicking band or with the assistance of an orchestra, his guitar just seared through every single song.

"Corpus Christi Carol," a song close to my heart because it was a staple in the late, great Jeff Buckley's repertoire, almost brought tears to my eyes. But then again, it might have just been Jeff Beck's guitar tone having its desired effect.

Jeff (Beck) didn't do any material with vocals, and hey, that's because he just didn't need them. And his band was just as righteous. The new female bassist Rhonda Smith (sorry Tal Wilkenfeld fans!) did some kicking solos and returning drummer Narada Michael Walden just smashed the hell out of his skins to keep up with Jeff.

If there should be any question over his use of an orchestra in rock and roll, I would just roll video of "A Day in the Life." Ugh, I sure could use Yoko's non-linear thinking right now to express how that song just arouses all the senses. Mere words don't seem to do it enough justice.

So I was literally wiped when that set ended. I didn't think I'd be able to recover in time for the intermission and EC's solo set. This fact was made worse by the two numbskulls behind me who kept loudly voicing that there was no way Clapton could compete with Beck's play. (If I have to be honest, I did kind of worry about it myself, and I've never been described as anything short of a Clapton fanatic.)

But really it's like comparing apples and dominoes. Jeff Beck's guitar sort of cuts a swath through his song, while EC's is entirely complementary -- surrounding all of the other musical components and then elevating it to a different level.

Having the acoustic set first did nothing to quiet the loudmouths. And they just got worse (of course) when asked to keep it quiet. I really had to focus to get past it -- even when the song I had been waiting for, "I've Got a Rock 'N' Roll Heart," started. Long live, T-Mobile! Well, T-Mobile sucks, but long live their promotional department for glomming onto that as the signature song promoting the EC phone.

After the four acoustic songs, it got easier to not hear what I didn't want to hear behind me. "I Shot the Sheriff," never one of my favorite songs, was a highlight. As one friend once said, "You can tell how an EC show is going to be by how good 'I Shot the Sheriff' is." Well, judging by that barometer, spectacular.

It got even better on "Little Queen of Spades," with EC and longtime keyboardist Chris Stainton blazing the trail. And, of course, "Cocaine" got everyone rocking out.

Then, the moment we'd all been waiting for as Beck joined Clapton on stage. OK, all of us except the drunk motormouths behind me because they took off early into the set. I didn't have time to ponder the error of their ways, because the two guitarists intermingled to perfect effect. It was pretty much Beck in the foreground and Clapton in the background, but chalk that up to the apples and dominoes analogy.

"Moon River," another bizarre choice for a rock concert on its face, was haunting. But it was "Outside Woman Blues" and "Little Brown Bird" that really proved the dream matchup point.

Visions of future recordings with the dynamic duo danced in my head through "Wee Wee Baby" and "I Want to Take You Higher." And although Jimmy Page didn't pop out and see his shadow, it couldn't have mattered less as they barreled into "Crossroads."

So I left with an impression of Jeff Beck that went from zero to 60 in about two seconds flat. That'll be an obsession for the next few months, I am sure. And now I have renewed excitement about going down to the Crossroads ... Guitar Festival that is, in June in Chicago.

Live Peace in Brooklyn

2010-02-17T12:56:00.016-05:00

Yoko Ono, an acquired taste to be sure. One that puts you in a very different place than where you started, that's for sure. And that's the intent. Since her performance art is all about taking you spatially out of your comfort zone -- and everyone from me to Eric Clapton and back felt that Tuesday night at the Brooklyn Academy of Music -- I guess I'll just go with that flow.

--Were the four days of snow that hit the metropolitan area just part of her work? The frosty white images and sturdy, dangerous but glassy-looking ice patches seem to be in direct proportion to songs like "Don't Worry Kyoko (Mummy's Only Looking for Her Hand in the Snow)" and "Walking in Thin Ice." I'm not for sure that this wasn't Yoko's doing.

--Is the guy sitting in front of me with his combover blocking my view part of the art? It seemed twice as likely to be true when I moved a seat to the left after Act 1 and there was a woman, a smaller version but with her hair gelled up so high it seemed to be a combover as well.

--The guy emitting noxious fumes to my right definitely better not be part of the act.

--Power zoning. That's what Yoko's songs can do to you. You're powerless, she has all the power. She knows and revels in it.

--That band, led by Sean Lennon (who in beard and hat looks uncannily like his father), is fun-ky. This is like Concert for George, where Dhani Harrison looked so much like his dad that you couldn't stop looking. I gotta admit feeling eerie and a tiny bit of the ick factor as he prods Mummy on.

--Over the course of the show, she reaches for a water bottle with her left hand. Is this intentional or is she just thirsty?

--Yoko sings of hearing fish calling from the ocean. I really think I can hear them.

--Bottoms up. The famous "Bottoms" video which photographs, obviously, cheeks was ever-present. Even in the bathroom there was a poster of the grainy black-and-white imagery.

--Second act ... a diverse collection of musicians pay tribute. The Scissor Sisters lose themselves in "The Sun Is Down" ... Justin Bond does a very humorous take on "What a Bastard the World Is" ... Sean channels dad for "Oh Yoko" with Gene Ween ... Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore artfully hacksaw "Mulberry" in cadence with Yoko ... Bette Midler, who made her own fluffy arrangement, thrills the masses with "Yes, I'm Your Angel" ... Sean's best friend and his dad (Harper and Paul Simon) do nice guitar duets to "Silverhorse" and "Hold On."

--Yoko ... Eric Clapton ... Klaus Voormann. The first time the three Plastic Ono band members have been on stage together in 37 years. It's a joy to see Eric out of his comfort zone and his playing -- spectacular on "Yer Blues" and "Don't Worry Kyoko" and just out of this world on the song they hadn't even rehearsed, "Death of Samantha" -- is a sight to behold. ... Sean talks of Eric giving him quick guitar lessons before the show on how his dad used to play the songs. Yoko tells stories that I didn't hear and/or understand. Eric didn't seem to either. I feel better.

--Everyone ... except EC unless my vantage point to the far left prevented me from seeing him ... comes back on stage. They and we sing "Give Peace a Chance," with an additional "Happy Birthday" to boot.

So glad I went.

'Once' and for all

2010-01-20T20:02:00.033-05:00

I once read you're not supposed to start correspondence with an apology. Not that there were a lot of shows that fell by the wayside here at Maximum Tuneage, I think I've only been to one in recent months -- a spectacular Pete Yorn show at the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City, where he took a backseat to adult alterni of the year, David Gray. (I thought that was a "General Hospital" bad guy, but apparently he's this decade's answer to Dave Matthews.) So I roll on, sans apology.

Oh wait, I think I didn't do one for The Dana Fuchs Band's show at the Highline Ballroom. That I apologize profusely for. Onward!

When the charming indie film "Once" came out a few years ago, I was bedazzled by Glen Hansard (who had been in "The Commitments") and Marketa Irglova (who is Czech, which is a virtual 'in' for me). The way their voices, guitar and piano melded melted my hardened heart.

I saw them at Radio City Music Hall soon after they won the Academy Award for "Falling Slowly," the lovely ballad in the film that started the characters' down their path to love, with the audience along for the ride. They still seemed so unaffected by it all, really impressed by being in the storied NYC venue, and at the time, they were also together in real life.

It's a couple years later now. They're not still a couple, but they again sold out Radio City (something which a surprised Glen charmingly alluded to during the show). Indeed he was so impressed by the atmosphere that he beckoned the audience to join in and sing lines from about half the night's numbers. For the songs from the new album, "Strict Joy," he delivered very detailed instructions for different lines and even harmonies. And truth be told, it did sound a bit ethereal, even if he made us do it one or two too many times.

The current amalgamation of Glen, Marketa, The Frames, Clarence Clemons' nephew Jake and the rest of the band is known as The Swell Season. And there's no doubt about why Glen is the frontman, for he can do it all. He belted "Say It to My Now" off microphone to the back row of the balcony -- where he claims he usually sits at shows since he's always the last to buy his ticket. He told an endearing story about an older woman with an unusual blue coat he met in Chicago, not divulging the fact that Lois' son had perished in the Sept. 11 attacks until it was time to reveal the real reason for the story's inclusion in the set -- that the space between your mind and your mouth may not be that far, but it seems like a much greater distance when so many important things often remain unsaid.

He deftly worked his ex into the mix several times, once with a story about someone whose better half has a bigger vocabulary, "even if it's her second language." We could almost feel Marketa blush as she turned away from the microphone (and the audience) ahead of "Maybe I Was Born to Hold You in These Arms." Later, he credited Irglova with being the missing piece to success for he and his band of 20 years, the Frames.

Hansard & Company paid homage to a wide array of their influences -- Van Morrison, the most obvious and blatant with a dynamic "Astral Weeks" that allowed Glen to show off his guitar chops; the local flavor of Bruce Springsteen (with Clarence Clemons' nephew Jake on sax) on "Drive All Night" and the traditional Irish tune "The Parting Glass" with nods to The Clancy Brothers and Kate McGarrigle, but which is really adapted from its use as a song used at a wake to wish "good night and joy be with you all" to those who remain behind.

But as fabulous as all those covers were, The Swell Season was at its best when Glen and Marketa were front and center. The other ingratiating song from "Once," "When Your Mind's Made Up," starts softly, ends powerfully and sort of makes you wonder if the right song won the Oscar. The songs from "Once" all were delivered with as much verve as they had been the first time around.

But that I expected. The big questions I had were about the new album, which outside of the radio-friendly Van Morrisonesque "Low Rising," I had found a bit lackluster on the first few runs through the iPod. But at Radio City, with Glen giving introduction and explanation for almost every new song, they came alive, particularly "The Rain," which Glen said was written for his "gang," his longtime Frames bandmates.

When Marketa took to center stage with an acoustic guitar for her woman-child numbers, "If You Want Me" from the movie soundtrack and "I Have Loved You Wrong" from the new album, there was Glen at her place at the piano. Hansard may not have been born to hold Irglova in his arms, but it's very evident he was born to make beautiful music with her.

Clinging to the Woodstock vibe

2009-08-19T10:39:00.000-04:00

Getting the elusive Woodstock vibe is easy ... holding on to it, not so much.

Being in Bethel Woods is amazing. And then you walk into the museum gift shop, which is strewn with more commercialism than you can are able to view amidst the packed crowd. And the merchandise you can actually see doesn't say "Woodstock," probably because that's a trademarked name. So the reason the place exists is the reason they can't use the name?

But then you see the line for entrance with thousands of eager (and sweaty) people on it. And an old hippie holds a sign that "Need a free ticket for tonight" ... and he gets one minutes later!

We headed to Woodstock ourselves without tickets for the sold-out show, but with expectations of meeting someone who had two extra lawn seats early in the afternoon. While we could have gotten the tickets the box office released that day at cost, we stayed true to the vibe and waited on our supplier (much delayed by ... traffic, of course!)

Mark's backup plan to our woes was to use the old hippie Paul's sign to get tickets of our own. He even procured the sign to that end. And when our source showed up, we passed the sign on to another, who got a ticket -- no joke -- five seconds later. Paul added "Pay it forward ... it worked for me!" to the bottom of the sign and we left it outside in hopes that it would be used by others as we finally entered the gates.

The modern-day facility neighbors the original Max Yasgur farm that played host to the original Woodstock (I said it! I said it! I'm not paying royalties!!), and we found out that the foundation plans for that plot to remain untouched forever.

The Woodstock vibe was flowing through the people we met who told us stories of being at the original show -- one guy spent two days working his way to the front of the stage until he found himself there for Joe Cocker's set -- and NOT being at the show -- one poor lady went without tickets and was turned away (only to find out a day later, when access was impossible, that it had become a free show). Her friend also had been at Woodstock (*TM) and she had been left by her then-boyfriend (who also planned to be there for the 40th) when they lost track of each other amidst the hundreds of thousands.

Oh, fun note. Mark endured some teasing for wearing his New Jersey Devils shirt to the event. Although I surmised that there wouldn't be any other such apparel in view, Frank Marshall stopped us to appreciate the subject, and to show off his own team spirit at the same time.

We quickly staked out a spot on flat rocks in the shade, but quickly surmised we wouldn't last eight-plus hours on them since they were perilously sloped to the ground. We moved to flat -- and sweltering -- ground at the back center of the lawn and promptly fell asleep amidst the growing lawn full of families and wanna-be hippies who didn't attend the actual Woodstock as tuning continued for an hour or so on the stage.

It was a nice (but did I mention hot!) way to pass the day. And when the show got underway that kind of now-you-feel-it, now-you-don't Woodstock vibe floated in the air. I guess it sort of hurt the premise that all the bands had members no longers with them, whether by nature or other design. But everyone sounded really good, no off-key or out-of-tune embarrassments across the board. Rather than play-by-play the sets, I'll just hand out some props and some dubious honors for the evening.

Most faithful rendition:
15-year-old Conrad Oberg's take on Jimi Hendrix's seminal "Star-Spangled Banner" opened the show.

Least faithful rendition:
Big Brother's "Me and Bobby McGee." Uh, this was a Janis solo song, guys. That means after she left y'all.

Worst awareness of surroundings:
Despite a pretty big contingent of pint-sized fans (all of whom seemed to be able to get down), Country Joe proceeded with a "Gimme an F ... Gimme a U ... Gimme a C ... Gimme a K... what's it spell?!" chant rather early in the afternoon.

Best "fake" band member:
Cathy Richardson's amazing take on Grace Slick for Jefferson Starship nee Airplane (see right).

Worst "fake" band member:
Sophia Ramos of Big Brother. They brought on an Oriental guest vocalist for the first two songs, and while she had a bit of trouble with enunciation, the songs still sounded right. Ramos, fine in the straight-forward moments, really irked when she tried for Janis vocal stretches.

Best appropriation of someone else's idea:
Me! "Gimme a F ... Gimme a U ... Gimme a C ... Gimme an H ... Gimme an S ... what's it spell? FUCHS! FUCHS! FUCHS!" The only person I know of who could have done Janis justice.

Best use of a single riff:
Canned Heat. Canned riff. Hey, it gets people boogeying. But let's be honest. They keep playing the same ol' song with different words in front of them. Even Ten Years After felt obliged to use it once in their set.

Best anachronism:
Leslie West of Mountain called for the lighting technician to follow him electronically as he played the five notes of the "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" theme.

Best storyteller:
West again! Before diving into an energetic "Crossroads," West admitted he would be selling insurance if it wasn't for Eric Clapton. He recalled speaking to his brother about why the late Felix Pappalardi (Mountain's bassist and Cream's producer) couldn't get Mountain to sound like Cream. "Because you suck," brother said. West put the dig aside, until he went to see Cream in concert for himself. "We do suck!" West then proclaimed. It made him bear down and practice even harder.

Best surprise:
West trifecta!! It was rather late in the evening when West asked for the crowd's indulgence, bringing out his fiance Jenni Maurer and getting hitched on the stage ... by none other than the night's closer, Levon Helm. (Oh by the way, this is only biggest surprise if we fail to include my mom telling me via cell phone that day for the first time that when the original Woodstock took place, we were vacationing mere miles away.)

Best performance:
It was way late and the soothing sounds might not be traditional headliner fare, but The Levon Helm Band stood hand and shoulders above a pretty impressive rest of the field. Although Levon (who has battled throat cancer) was on "vocal rest," he centered a striking collection of musicians with his affinity for and talent on the skins.

Found at The Fillmore

2009-08-08T21:48:00.000-04:00

It's difficult to get me out and aboot on Fridays after a long week of Minor League baseballing. But the surest way to do it is to present a concert by someone that I've wanted to see for over a decade and never had the chance to.

This week's entry was Fastball. As an aficionado of the perfectly crafted pop song (be it Rick Springfield or Fleetwood Mac or Squeeze), Fastball fires right down the middle with some heat. They're great at depicting the human condition amidst a catchy riff, the name of the pop game.

My last solo outing was to see The Arc Angels, who 1. I had wanted to see for over a decade and 2. were also playing at The Fillmore. It's apparently becoming my catchup ground. I expect to hear an announcement for Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard's side project Brad or the Ben Folds Five reunion any day now.

Fastball was actually the middle act on this night, between Aimee Allen (whose got a nice Gwen Stefani quality to her voice and stage presence) and Sugar Ray (if you don't have anything nice to say... save your scorn for later in the blog).

Actually the real opening act was on the line outside the theater, when a poor woman projectile heaved not once, but twice. Luckily I wasn't one who wound up with residue on my feet, that particular thrill was saved for people on the line ahead of her and I was right behind. However, standing amidst that for 20 or so more minutes after the spew, I was quite ready to go myself. It was close but we avoided a recreation of the total barfarama scene in "Stand by Me."

I made a beeline to the merch table, and they had the perfect shirt for me -- a peace sign with stars behind it. (The two-fingered salute as opposed to the peace symbol.) Snatched one of those and quickly donned it. With the first five or six rows already filled in in the hall, I went upstairs and got a close spot on the railing that I didn't move from for a couple hours.

Aimee Allen was solid, with her bassist (twice her size) getting the crowds' arms waving or clapping whenever it was called for. I couldn't help thinking that if Aimee got the airtime Gwen Stefani did, she'd be slaying the audience. And that was backed up when she covered Sublime's "Santeria" and the crowd went wild.

And then time for the main event ... for me. I got excited just watching Tony Scalzo set up his keyboards and guitar. It was a rush when they all came out on the stage and launched into the title track to "Little White Lies."

Got one of my favorites, "Fire Escape," very early. I love the way the voices of Tony and Miles Zuniga mix and mingle -- just like Doyle Bramhall II and Charlie Sexton a few months before. I'm always blown away by Joey Shuffield's drumming too, he hits the hell out of the skins but with perfect symmetry.

Tony introed another of my faves, "You're an Ocean," by saying it's a great song and I couldn't agree more. Song shoulda been mammoth, I could listen to that puppy 20 times in a row without getting tired of it.

The new material (i.e., "Mono to Stereo") sounded really strong and vital. I fear I'm mixing up which songs I heard and which I didn't because I was listening to the album all day on the iPod. I hope the band wasn't disappointed that they weren't getting the riotous response that many seemed to be saving for Unsweetened Ray, but it really was a thrill for me and I was into every minute.

The crowd went nutso when it came to "Out of My Head" and the band's biggest hit ... to date! ... "The Way," even singing out a verse loud and strong. We got "Always and Never" (unless I'm doing revisionist history again) and they were gone, sob.

Ready to forsake Sugar-free Ray, I got onto a small line queueing up at the Fastball merch table. I got to meet a bunch of diehards -- Barrie from the Village's WRXP, Jill, Susan, Mickey and (because there is always ONE person's name that I forget when I meet a group) a guy I'll refer to as Guy-who-loves-Glenn Tilbrook-almost-as-much-as-Mark.

We teased Guy-who-loves-Glenn for repeatedly doffing his shirt to try on a new one from the merch table. Susan and I joked about which one of us had bought the better shirt (when we both had bought the same one). Railed about Fastball playing before Saccharine Ray. Found out that the tour got set up because Tony used to play with Overly Sweetened Ray frontman Mark McGrath. Decided to limit my remarks about Sour Ray in front of the band.

That was if the band ever came down to the table. They didn't, which created hardship for the hard-working and very tall merch table worker... uh, Joe? (OK, now I'm down two names.) He texted backstage twice to no avail. Barrie decided to look around for the guys, he reminded me of a dedicated doggie that would not quit until he got his bone, and I asked Mickey whether Barrie would actually drag them back if he found success.

That was answered quickly enough when Barrie texted Mickey that the guys were upstairs, so we went up to say hi. I got to say hi to Miles. Holding the new CD I had purchased, I talked about how great I think it is while fretting that he would wonder how I could know about it in any depth since I was holding it in my hand. But I've actually had it for months off iTunes. He was very gracious and talked for a couple minutes before excusing himself.

By that time, Tony had also appeared in the area and I took note of his red sneakers (I was also wearing my laceless red Converses). After Barrie talked with him and Tony and Mickey shook hands, I introduced myself and -- prepare for my worst faux pas since writing on Nick Johnson with a Sharpie -- bumped his glasses as I tried to say something sensical. (In my defense, Sweet-and-very-Low Ray was playing at the time and the only way to be heard was to invade the man's space.)

He didn't even make mention of it, and we bonded over the red sneakers, doing a little simultaneous shuffle in our sneaks. I told him as well that I loved the CD and would wait at the table for autographs. He seemed concerned about people waiting downstairs, but another person intervened before he could work his way to the stairs.

With another show in Jersey next month (embarrassment of riches after a long drought!), I decided to start making the trek home. And after walking out the door, I met the third member of the triumvirate, Joey. Babbled a little about how much I love his drumming, he asked me if I was a drummer, I said "only an air drummer" and he said, "well that's drumming." Again, I dragged out my bon mot about how great the CD is, and again I felt I could almost see in his eyes the disbelief. Told him I would see him next month and was on my way with a spring in my step and a rewrite of one of Artificial Sweetener Ray's tunes.

"I just wanna flyyyyy ... I don't wanna hear your sucky music ... I don't wanna hear lame tunes ... I ... just ... want ... to ... flyyyyyyyyyy."

They say the neon lights are bright...

2009-06-23T12:59:00.001-04:00

Seeing Broadway shows always reminds me of the great affinity I have for theater and dance. If I got to choose a path from any in the world (and had the necessary talents), I very well might have chosen the stage (yes, even above guitarist). And I wouldn't even need to be the lead -- although the complete package of musicality and dance would be very appealing -- just a part of a company putting on a show like "Hair." So my unspoken dream would be to dance on Broadway.

Now I've danced on Broadway.

It was just a couple minutes at the end of the June 20 matinee performance of the Tony Award winner for Best Revival. But it's enough.

Had wanted to see the show for a while. Saw "The Tribe," as they are deemed, on Letterman and again on the Tonys broadcast. The energy and spirit was just amazing. It really sucks me in.

Tried to get the lottery seats for the show once -- a couple hours before each show, there's a lottery for 28 seats at $25 apiece, a real bargain considering what even the TKTS prices for shows are. Didn't win, but I knew my sis, Lorrie (aka Pook), was coming into town in a couple weeks and she said she'd like to see it, so I didn't buy the TKTS $91 partial view option (come on! That's a discount?)

We tried in vain -- not the artery but in vain -- to get the lottery tickets again, and even the crowd was a little sparser due to matinee/rains, we still didn't win. Went to TKTS and got a little better of a deal. It was about to get a lot better.

Hair is on stage at the Hirschfeld Theater and pretty quickly after the lights go down, Sasha Allen drags you willingly into the period with a dynamic "Aquarius." I hadn't seen the show before, so I didn't know how different it was from the film version, but they break the fourth wall pretty quickly and it stays broken as The Tribe sings and dances in the audience on almost every number.

The main characters introduce themselves right off the bat and one of the male leads, Will Swenson (Berger), jumped into the crowd and introduced a lady in the front row at his mom. Apparently he does it every show, sometimes picking a teenager and calling her mom. More on Will/Berger later.

You don't really know where to look next when the Tribe is singing and dancing their hearts out, but Gavin Creel proves very magnetic as the other male lead Claude. Caissie Levy has an amazing singing voice and she gets to use it to great effect, particularly in "Easy to Be Hard" and in the seminal "Good Morning Starshine." Pook expects Allen to be a big star with her huge voice and beautiful countenance, and I gotta agree. Kacie Shiek (the first photo in the blog) is deft comedically and musically as pregnant Jeanie.

Our show had most of the cast intact, with only Allison Case as Crissy and three members of the tribe subbed out.

After the first act, Pook had noticed that the seats directly behind us and on the aisle were vacant, so we moved there for the second act. Fortuitous indeed, because one of the first things that happened was that members of the cast (including Swenson) entered from the side and after one of the female Tribe members patted me affectionately on the head, Swenson as Berger (he's the second blog pic) said "Hi, lovely" and kissed the top of my head (or my new Hair bandana). We also snagged an orphaned flower that had been tossed into the audience at the end of the first act and had been left unclaimed.

The second act moved swiftly into the very poignant staging of Claude leaving for the army ... and his sad return. Then the lights came up and the cast was beckoning members of the audience to come on stage. It took me about 30 seconds (and a little push) to go. When I got stage left, I was dancing with a nice older gentleman with a metal cane. He thanked me when the first encore ended. Then everyone joined in for "Let the Sunshine In," with arms rippling across the stage like waves.

I turned around to applaud the band, and the guitarist tossed me his pick! On the way off, I stopped to congratulate Briana Carlson-Goodman, who had stood in as Crissy. She thanked me profusely and gave me a hug.

We went outside and waited for members of the cast. Ten of them came out, including Swenson, Bryce Ryness (a perfect Woof, in my opinion) and Sheik. When Jeanie came out, I yelled "Hey, she's not pregnant!" and the crowd laughed. Easy laugh.

The songs haven't left my head ... well, when there's room for them amidst my impressions of Charles Grodin's overacting in "King Kong," which kept cracking Pook up, so which of course, I kept doing to excess.

It was a great mental space to be for a few hours, and I'm hoping I get to invade that space ... and, OK, yeah, the stage, again sometime.

We can go our own way

2009-06-17T10:02:00.000-04:00

(Note: I don't do blog dedications, but my heart is so heavy for two terrific friends and big music lovers, so this one is for Susan and Pam.)

After all the excitement of Wednesday's Clapton/Winwood show and one unexpected engagement, there were two roads Park could have gone down. The duo were making their way to Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. But we Claptonians decided to go down a different (and very long) path, and it didn't hurt that it was a cheaper path as well.

For months, we had been bemoaning the fact that our fave singer in the word Dana Fuchs, her kickass guitarist Jon Diamond and their rockin' band had been in Europe for months. So, with both the Dana Fuchs Band and Robert Randolph's Family Band on the free bill, we charted a course for Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Arts Music Festival.

That was all fine and good, except for when we hit town, we couldn't find the darn thing! No signage, and the GPS left us off in the middle of traffic. If we had wanted to go to Mellon Arena to rub elbows with Pens fans (and a few brave Wings fans) drooling over their impending Stanley Cup or if we wanted to take in a Pirates game (with a few brave Tigers fans), we would have been in luck.

But finally, we got pointed in the right direction (hey, there was signage AT the event, at least) and were seated in front of the stage (although a little discombobulatedly) with about 10 minutes to spare.

Dana, Jon and company were just what the doctor ordered. It's akin to a massage therapist getting into a knot on your shoulder, minus the residual pain the next day.

I got myself namechecked from the stage when Dana introduced "Drive," one of my favorite songs, and I hooted ... loudly. "Is that Paige? Thank you, girl." It's great to know all the songs in a setlist, it just added to an already substantive comfort level.

It was only a 45 minute-or-so set, but it was capped by Dana's trademark number, "Helter Skelter." Jon later told me that he saw me rockin' out from the stage, I gotta admit I do love to cut loose on that on.

We got on line to say hi to Dana and made some new friends -- particularly Brittany (a younger fan who apparently has a lot better idea of what music to listen to and of what to do on a Friday night than many of her peers) and another Mark (his dad owns the world's largest album collection -- vinyl -- in the world, which sadly recently went up on eBay.)

Saw one of the coolest things while waiting on line. A woman was very deftly working a hula hoop all over herself -- neck, arms, waist -- she was really nimble about it. Jon pointed it out to Dana, who was just amazed and open-mouthed. So there's someone who made her feel like we do when we hear her sing!!

I told them about how great Dana is with her fans, treating us more like friends. She bore that out by looking so happy when I told her about the engagement and had a hug and kiss for both of us. I told her once again that I would be happy to help her out anyway I can on the writing front. And also that she better stay in the USA for a while!! She said that it really was great to be on home turf in front of people who could understand what she was saying.

By the time we were done, Robert Randolph was underway and we sidled into an open spot. In fact, we kept moving up and by the end of the show, we were pretty much in the second or third row of the crowd.

RR and band exemplify a theory that Dana has about her religion (and ours) being the church of music, peace and love. Something to believe in that really make you feel better. And you feel it with every fiber of your body when both of these acts perform.

After our "religious" experience, we started heading toward Atlantic City. We found out the Penguins had won Game 7 via an electronic travel advisory sign: "Congrats Pens, Stanley Cup champs!"

We stopped for the night about an hour out of town and then ran into a parking lot in Philadelphia the next day, when we feared for 1. our sanity and 2. our Fleetwood Mac show -- not necessarily in that order. The GPS was less help than usual, so we pulled out a map and got ourselves up to Trenton and then over to AC.

AC is a special Mac place for us, since Mark had his Lindsey Buckingham epiphany when we were there last year with my sis. The city was almost under a layer of fog, and I sort of felt that way myself. But when the opening notes of "Monday Morning" started, I shook it off.

Stevie was in particularly good voice -- better than in both the shows we previously saw on the tour. There was a great stretched out-line (she's a draaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-gon) in "Gold Dust Woman" that made me and Jenna (we had met on the eternal Stevie line at Borders a couple months ago ) gasp out loud.

Jenna was battling the forces of evil, namely a man who spilled at least half a glass of wine on her back with limited remorse, but we ended up rocking out pretty well. The three of us played the Mac drinking game (sans alcohol) and pretended to take shots each time a member hit one of the signals -- Lindsey talking about the band's complicated emotional history, Stevie twirling, Mick saying something unintelligible and John not saying anything (basically the whole show).

It was fun and exhausting and I am realllllllllllllllllllllly eager to just settle in on the old (make that new) homefront for a while.

You're old school ... and engaged!

2009-06-11T01:05:00.001-04:00

First show of the 2009 Clapton/Winwood Tour and, once again, it was in my backyard. This time at the former Continental Airlines Arena, a place that was my home away from home when my beloved New Jersey Devils played there.

A few things had changed since the previous tour incarnation. Namely, I had met Mark while hanging with some Clapton friends prior to, during and after his Jones Beach show a year ago. We have been to many many concerts since, but we had never sat together for an EC show.

I considered the MSG shows to be in the upper echelon of concerts I've ever seen, and I was expecting a lot this time around. Didn't know if there would be setlist changes (there was some tweakage) or how the addition of backup singers would affect the balance (not too harshly as it turns out, but still unnecessary).

"Had to Cry Today" was a nice opener, but it wasn't until the fifth song ("Presence of the Lord") that everything started to come together. Truth be told, it wasn't a lot like the MSG dates. That had a different vibe, and only "Presence," "Glad/Well Alright," "Pearly Queen" and the first part of "Can't Find My Way Home" (done acoustically instead of electrically this time) seemed to be in that vein. (I jammed out to "Well Alright," and I'm convinced that Steve was looking my way at the time -- as Park found out during its time on stage with Mick Fleetwood -- it's pretty easy to see the audience four rows away ... although he may have been looking at a tall blonde behind me. ;))

A lot of that came from the change in drummers, I feel, from the more retro-sounding Ian Thomas at MSG to the hard-hitting Abe Laboriel Jr. MSG's show-stopper "Voodoo Chile" took on a more palpable drum feel, even "Little Wing" did as well -- and the latter featured the most incendiary solo of the night via Mr. Clapton. (It also provided for a couple humorous moments when I flicked a Bic lighter during the song and two different fans approached me to say I was showing my appreciation "old school," like in the days of yore.)

By contrast, "After Midnight," "Tell the Truth" and the crowd favorite of the night, acoustic "Layla" were serviceable, but not particularly memorable. The Buddy Miles tribute from MSG, "Them Changes" was changed to one for legendary blues guitarist Hubert Sumlin ("Tough Luck Blues") without missing a beat.

Winwood's Traffic numbers "Pearly Queen" and "Dear Mr. Fantasy" came off well, and as EC did in his recent Allman Brothers stint, his style is beautifully suited to those numbers. In turn, Winwood delivered some great vocal chops while trading vocals with Clapton on "Forever Man" and even "Cocaine."

EC seemed almost resigned to do his solo number, "Driftin'," even slouching into his seat after Winwood brought the house down with his solo signature song "Georgia on My Mind." But as usual, Clapton punctuated the acoustic version with notes that resonated strongly throughout the building.

The crowd was appreciative throughout, and for the first time since those MSG shows, there didn't seem to be any conflict between fans who wanted to dance their way through the set and those who wanted to just sit and soak it all in.

The festivities ended surprisingly ... for me at least, when my man proposed following the final notes of "Dear Mr. Fantasy" and the crowd's roar of approval. After I regained consciousness, I was given a Ring Pop (orange, yummy) and the option to choose my own ring. A most engaging end to a wonderful night at the ... OK, I can finally say it ... Izod Center.

Running Angel-ic interference

2009-05-09T10:54:00.000-04:00

I soooooo wasn't up for a concert yesterday. Lost my dream house for the second time in a hellacious round of muckety-muck that probably would have gotten someone sued if I wasn't trying to save pennies for whatever home I do wind up purchasing.

But this one was special. I was a fan of the Arc Angels in the early '90s and an ever bigger fan of Doyle Bramhall II since. And it's just a show I never thought I would get the opportunity to experience. There had been fractious discord in the band caused by that most odious of obsessions -- drug addiction. And it never crossed my mind that I would get to see them.

So with that in mind, I sucked it up and went 'arkless to the show. Got there early and met a small handful of diehards directly in front of the stage. They were neatly divvied up into a small posse of Doylies and a sextet of Sextonites. OK, it was five -- but that doesn't sound as cool. I neatly squoze between both of them and got to be at the very front of the stage in the middle of both, with leanings toward the Doyle side.

We stood for a loooooong time, basically because the opening band had backed out and the Angels were still coming out at 9:20. I couldn't believe there was no merch table -- what the what?!? The Sextonites were already bemoaning lack of promotion for the show, 'cause it looked like the band was going to play to an empty hall until 9:25, when the knowing masses piled in.

I have been in Doyle's Yahoo group of fans for a while, and whenever I've posted no one has ever responded to me. But in the collection of Doylies were "The Famous Jane" (great to have a name made famous in one of your favorites' songs) and "the infamous Johnny," both of whom have also been in that group for a while. I promised to try posting again, they promised to answer.

The venue is the world-famous Fillmore. Well, the reconstituted world-famous Fillmore at the also well-known Irving Plaza anyway. At the hall they have a screen that comes three-fourths of the way down the stage and flashes images to the retro '60s and '70s sounds being pumped into the room. I spent much of my two hours before the show trying not to look at it to avoid dizziness. And when the band came down the stairs, we could watch their legs walking around on stage. Nothing pumps up women like seeing strong guitar legs and this band has two sets of them!

When the screen went up, we could see Doyle was wearing an Antone's t-shirt and ... damn it, that long waistcoast that prevents one from seeing our favorite ass-ets. To his and the band's credit, I didn't even really think about that until the fourth song. That's not half-bad. And I didn't think about the house thing until about the fifth or sixth, so it definitely was helping me out.

Charlie looked like a cross between Steve Winwood and Christopher Reeve in his younger days, very striking. In the back, Chris Layton was pounding away on the drums, he looked so small back there. Unfortunately, original band member Tommy Shannon has been ill and his place was taken by someone who kept reminding me of "Wolfman," the guy who replaces TB Player in "That Thing You Do," a talented guy who seems to be outside of the band's inner circle.

There's such great musical chemistry between Charlie and Doyle, it's better than lead singers who just take turns singing their own songs, because they sing different verses in the same song. It's very cohesive and makes it all, well, just feel right.

They opened with "Paradise Cafe," and Jane got her moment with "Famous Jane" a couple songs later. They did one of Doyle's solo efforts, "I'm Leaving," and "Sent by Angels" and "Spanish Moon" were expected treats. The Sextonites and I got a lot of hooting in whenever there was a chance, and my new friend, fellow hippiester Ruth, and I boogied and sang lyrics at each other.

There wasn't much banter with the crowd, but Doyle did preface "Outside Woman Blues" by saying they were about to head over to London to open for his sometime-boss Eric Clapton and that although EC didn't write the song, his band Cream did perform it. He added that the Angels' version would be nothing like that. And it wasn't! It was like their version with the pedal to the metal, very cool and trippy.

Great interaction between the two guitarists, Charlie liked to meander over and whisper to Doyle and there would be smiles ... when DBII could hear what he was saying, anyway. They would trade solos and it just made for a good time. I thought 'ark would really appreciate it, because up at the front railing, the guitar sounds were awesome but the vocals super-muddied. Since 'ark isn't really into lyrics, it would have been perfect for him.

We got great solos in the encore numbers, "She's Alright" and "Too Many Ways to Fall," as Johnny had told me would be the last number of the night. And then the screen came down and they were gone. Ruth's childhood friend Mary snagged TB Player's setlist, of which I captured on my cell phone to go into the collection.

So as always, very glad I went, and I can't wait for my EC friends heading to London to see them, and I really hope the energy that we fed off in the smaller venue will translate to the world-famous Royal Albert Hall (which I still need to get to someday!)

Could we Squeeze by?

2009-04-05T21:06:00.000-04:00

How many times have you been watching a musician or group and a questions pops into your head that you'd love to have answered? And you can't, because there's separation of church and state (make that separation between musicians and ears with feet).

Well Friday night was the night for question-and-answer. Just about anything Park had on their minds was brought up with the musicians and then answered. But the first question of the night actually came from the artist. In this case, Glenn Tilbrook. And not really him, but the woman leading him up a crowded staircase after they arrived as the audience was starting to file into the Highline Ballroom.

"Could we squeeze by?" It was almost too precious. I was laughing so hard, I almost couldn't get out of the way to let the fomer-turned-once again sometime lead singer of Squeeze into his own gig. "Hey Glenn," I finally managed. "Hi," he replied affably.

The chain continued with other members of his band. And there's Stephen Large, the slim, affable and energetic keyboardist in Glenn's side band, The Fluffers. Earlier that week, I had been talking with a fellow fan who remarked that it was interesting that Stephen and bassist Lucy Shaw were married and wondered if they had met while playing with Glenn or if they previously knew each other.

I said hi to Stephen too and queried whether I could ask him a quick question. He said sure and I asked about him and Lucy. He said they had known each other before they got into the band. One question asked and ahn-swered (I'm affecting Glenn's Brit accent, hey, if he can call himself Hendrix's son, I can do that.)

So we're at the very front of the Highline stage and the gear is set up for the opening band, The Spring Standards. 'Ark notices a dollar bill taped to the guitarist's pedal and wonders why that is. Stay tuned...

The Spring Standards hit us like a breath of fresh air. To start off with, they're intriguingly set up at the front of the stage, and each of the three members (James, Heather and James) have a piece of the drum kit in addition to their other duties. I wonder if the name James is a precursor to being hired by Glenn ... Alternative band James (BORINGLY!) did the honors at Radio City last year. The two Jameses and Heather proved to be the opposite.

The Jamesi even switched guitars and positions on the stages during the show. Very multi-faceted this crew, whose music ran the gamut of possible influences. As 'Ark aptly put it, they didn't have any filler. Put even more simply, it's the best opening band Park has seen to date.

And we got to tell them so! Another of the burning questions that came up while watching them was how they got into each playing a different piece of the drum kit. As James (of the high hair) told me, it was very organic. They're campfire musicians used to just trying different things. Well, it all worked Friday. And ... wait for it ... the dollar bill was given to James (high hair again) by fluffer drummer Simon Hanson. He taped it to his pedal to remind him that the business isn't just all about money. (He and the other two didn't seem to need to be reminded it, as their infectious enthusiasm carried them along as much as the quality tuneage.)

Other James (dressed like a geography teacher -- his words -- for the New York show) kept that gag running by choosing to doodle a palm tree and a blazing sun on the vinyl he signed for us, admitting that frankly that was all the geography he could draw. All three of them were as gracious as they could be to hear nice words about their music, to make a sale, just to be engaged in conversation.

Even before Glenn and The Fluffers took the stage, the opening act seemed very complementary to Glenn and Co.'s style. With Squeeze taking a break, Glenn's crew has been on a brief 16-stop tour (reminds us of Lindsey Buckingham's own mini-tour, but pretty much there is not much that doesn't remind us of him one way or another right now). And they're rolling on all cylinders too, not surprising for a band that's been together for about six years. Glenn in particular looked in very good health and was a sharp-dressed man (minus the beard) in a black pinstripe suit with Fluffer t-shirt underneath it to boot.

The new songs got a real boost from being played live (as all the best ones do, when performed by quality musicians). During the tour, Glenn had different guests fill in for the Johnny Depp's album vocal. On this night it was Heather's turn to utter "Too Close to the Sun" every time Glenn nodded in her direction as The Fluffers manically interwove notes and chords around her.

Of course Squeeze hits ("Slap and Tickle", "Pulling Mussels from a Shell", "Up the Junction") and by now Glenn standards ("Unbreakable", "Parallel World") fared very well. On one of his solos, he wound up "Too Close to the Park and stepped on our newly acquired LP (no harm, no foul).

"Take Me I'm Yours" seemed to have the show wrapped on a high note, but Glenn brought "The Kids" -- as he put it and we now deem them -- back to the stage for the final encore. His new CD is named "Pandemonium Ensues" and it definitely seemed like that was on his mind. His first order of business was to declare that everyone had to switch instruments.

He played the drums and eventually got a hold of Lucy's bass, and then rang out the first few lines of "Rhiannon" -- we can NOT escape the Mac!!! Heather sang it most capably too. Then it was on to one of 'Ark's favorite songs "Funkytown." And lastly but so not leastly, the band's usual ode to Minnie Riperton's "Lovin' You."

There was a little variation on it this time. As Stephen plinked out the notes, the stage -- so up close and personal as to be surreal -- became a slow-motion view of the remaining musicians just tearing up the joint. They were mock-punching other out (Glenn particularly caused laughter by plunging face first into a wayward cymbal) and just wrecking the stage to the ever-sweet sounds of "Lovin' You." And then he started to sing and the band lined up behind him like chorus girls waving their arms slowly like the Rockettes (see above photo). When it came to "that high note," instead of sweetly going up an octave or four, they held a low piercing scream instead. Check out the video here -- the melee starts at about 2:25 of the way through. I can't even do it justice. Even the YouTube doesn't quite capture it.

Got that setlist too! This one right off of Stephen's keyboards and into my waiting arms.

While waiting to meet Glenn for the first time, The Kids came out and mixed and mingled with attendees. 'Ark went over to get his EP CD signed, and he mentioned that I had met Stevie Nicks earlier in the week and we both enjoyed her version of "Rhiannon." She looked across the room at where he was gesturing, I gave her the thumbs-up and she gave it right back to me. "Great job!" She seemed both happy and maybe a hint of relieved? She told 'Ark she messed it up a little bit, don't worry, even Stevie trips over her lyrics and she's known for "drownding in the sea of love" as well.

'Ark had this idea of telling the musicians that a live album of the proceedings could be called "Pandemonium Ensued." When we told Stephen the idea, he mustered up a little chuckle and not much more enthusiasm. But 'Ark thought it would be better received by Glenn and, boy, was he right. Glenn threw his head of tousled hair back and chuckled heartily. A more appreciative response there could not be.

With the Fluffers' tour in the books, I wanted to ask Glenn about whether he was going to do one of those wondrous acoustic shows again. And since it was the day for asking, I did! In a way not dissimilar from Mick Fleetwood's response during the Meet and Greet, he said he was not not planning one and added he wanted to do all of it. I told him we would be there in any form or fashion.

Getting a Nicks Fix

2009-04-01T14:12:00.000-04:00

Time for another mid-week blog. This one is brought to you courtesy of my MiLB colleague Daren, Barnes & Noble and the indefatigable Miss Stevie Nicks. As we look up on the tote board, we see the Pai count is three-fifths of modern-era Fleetwood Mac accounted for autographs, two-fifths in face-to-face meetings.

We take up the action midday Tuesday. I knew Stevie Nicks would be doing her first-ever in-person signing at the Barnes & Noble in Union Square. She released a live CD and DVD on the same day, and already heard that people would be allowed to get only those signed (there went the Rumours cover with Mick and Stevie on it). Also heard that she was a bit squeamish about hundreds of people flashing photos in her face, so cameras were prohibited (but obviously snuck in by others despite her wishes as you can see here).

When I left for work at around 3, the 300-person seating capacity was just about filled. But then we got word that they would reseat those with people who waited in ... and wait for it EC fans ... the queue. Well I didn't really have time to wait in the queue. ;) I had to get to work for a meeting (which said colleague graciously offered to have happen an hour earlier so I could at least make an attempt at the signing).

When I heard about how many people were out there, I almost didn't go, but Daren had made his effort on my behalf so I off I raced after the meeting. I got my flier, got on the line out the door. People were still being brought in for standing room only on the fourth floor, they were to pay for two items at the register and that receipt gained them entrance to the Stevie level.

I was standing sort of perpendicular with the store, but a guard moved us parallel to it. When that happened, a man got ahead of me. Now I didn't think much of it at the time, 'cause well we were far away from the action. But he actually wound up being the last person able to purchase. The guard let five of us up to the register -- I was the first on this line. And there we stood for about 90 minutes waiting and hoping that this would happen.

I didn't have much hope, until the clerk -- poor thing forced to stand with us all that time and basically do nothing as we whined and questioned her about previous book signings to figure out our chances -- said that usually the fourth floor doesn't have the chairs in there and holds more for the signings.

Made some nice acquaintances on the line. Caustic Jenna was definitely a highlight. She had just been at the Izod show too, so we were trading comments about that one. Melissa had been to the Madison Square Garden show and the friend she had come with -- low and behold, another Gina! -- actually was stuck back at the door, the guard wouldn't let them both through together. There was a really sweet other woman as well, and I forget her name right now but she and her daughter have been sharing the Stevie love. She later said she would have bowed out at 6:30 if we hadn't kept her so occupied.

The most notable discussions were sordid mom tales (To even out the balance, I countered with my "best mom" story, saying if Mom lived in New York she woulda willingly sat upstairs all day for me) and life with "grey shirt" (a woman who actually had a receipt, but came back downstairs to try to buy another when the clerks were trying to convince her that she had a guaranteed autograph upstairs, and no guarantee if she was behind us).

So 90 minutes later, they let us purchase. And I got the magic receipt and up to the fourth floor I went. There was a looooong way to go. We got put in a couple different areas (one of which rearranged us so people who came after us actually wound up going before us ... sigh), but ultimately we did get seated in the main area. And the people just kept coming. They refilled the rows as soon as people went up for autographs. We got to watch "Grey Shirt" flitting around aimlessly a couple times, we did fear a little for Stevie when she got up there. But that moment seemed to pass without incident.

And then finally, our row got to stand and get in the line to the dais. It really sped up when it came to the big moment. You give your items to an assistant, who moves them over to Stevie. I started talking while she was signing. "How are you holding up?" I said. Her hand cramped a little and she hesitated, but said she was doing all right and just wanted to be able to sign for everyone. I said how much we all appreciated that and she said thanks for saying that. I added that I thought the band was playing fabulously right now. She grasped my hand in hers, made sure to make eye contact and said "Thanks very much, that means a lot to me."

It was insanely sweet of her to be like that with everyone -- maybe 1,000 people. It made reflect on being a fan of hers ... back to 1982, when her special was on HBO and I cried because we couldn't get home for the start of it. (Don't bust my chops, there was no VCR back then, let alone a DVD!)

Oh, one tiny note, I've always sort of thought she had a remarkable resemblance to Carrie Fisher. That's really brought home in the above picture.

Mystery to Me

2009-03-25T01:18:00.001-04:00

Wow, my last blog was "Perception vs. Reality" and that really has become a clarion call in the past few hours. This blog is named after both a Fleetwood Mac album and the questions that have arisen since I saw this particular video.

It makes me wonder if I've seen a ... well, "Mirage." (Yes, Fleetwood Mac album from the early '80s). If I was ... "Hypnotized" (pre-Buckingham Nicks song). I don't know what "I'm So Afraid" (with Buckingham Nicks) of in trying to figure it out. Well then again, I do. "I Don't Want to Know" (also with Buckingham Nicks) if it's something you don't want to know, ya know?

I'm definitely all over the actual video, being the person standing in front of the one who took it. Great shot of my watch! Now she's obviously a whole head taller than me -- that'll come in to play later. But what really got to me was the end, I have a reaction that I would say only occurred after the Lindsey moment. I'm about to break down.

This moment happened before the thank yous, and before late tonight, I would have sworn up and down that I got thanked after them. This video changed my mind.

It also reminded me of another fact. Although 'ark saw the blown kiss, I didn't remember it and that was because I had turned around after the "Thank You" in amazement. I was looking for someone else it could have been for. But no one was at my eyeline and, well, the man's eyes are pretty intense. I know he was talking to me. I froze for a second in a way I've only done twice in my lifetime and that's another reason why I know it was me. I did it when Rick Springfield looked at me and even earlier than that, the first time I met my "Guiding Light" fave Terrell Anthony.

So what about the blown kiss? As you can see on the video, the kiss is a bit off camera but comes into view around the time he points to the person holding the camera. It coulda been a general one, it coulda been for her. Hell, maybe it even is really part mine. But I know it wasn't part of the "thank you" package.

THEN he goes away and then the band thank yous are done. What sort of boggles my mind is that both 'ark and I totally got this wrong. I think it might have been the way he saw the kiss. I wanted to see it, so in my mind's eye, I did. We got a picture in our heads of the thank you happening after the band did theirs. It's related to the girls who were behind us after this photographer left, and not at all interesting so I won't go into further detail. But now as sure I was before that it initially happened that way, that's how sure I am now that it was the reverse.

So strange. It's got me "Mystified."

Perception vs. reality

2009-03-22T19:01:00.000-04:00

I had this week all planned out to the letter. Used my powers of deductive reasoning culled from years of Dell logic problem solving to figure out when Eric Clapton would be able to join the Allman Brothers Band during their Beacon run and then played chicken to get an I Love All Access package for Fleetwood Mac at an auction for a third of what the other patrons paid for theirs.

And still, with that knowledge of what could happen, well I couldn't even fathom what it would be like when the weekend came to pass. Except maybe the worst-case scenario.

So we're off to the Beacon on Friday night and the band was in a slow jammy state of mind for the first set, starting off with Oteil's solo take on "Little Martha" to a montage of photos of the still very much-missed Duane Allman, whom this year's run is dedicated to. That segued into "Mountain Jam" and the likes of "Trouble No More," "Midnight Rider" and "Ain't Wastin' Time No More" before wrapping up with "Mountain Jam." It was a very laid-back ambience. Maybe that's for the best since we needed to be well-rested for the second set.

"Melissa" started off the second set, which cranked to an at-that-point evening high with "No One Left to Run With." But the Brothers DO have someone left to run with, someone kind of obvious, yet someone they had not played with in public in the four decades of their existence.

And with a this-man-needs-no-introduction introduction, EC joined the band on stage. They started off with "Key to the Highway," just enabling everyone to settle in. "Stormy Monday" was an unexpected setlist selection and the solos were masterful all the way around. Then came "Dreams," and anyone who knows Eric knows that he can just soak up the ambience in any environment and then deliver a masterful solo in that vein. Absolutely done here.

Then the killer punch to me ... "Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad." In particular, the guitar exchanges between Eric and Derek Trucks -- with EC now not Derek's boss (like on his solo tour), but his peer. It was dazzling the way they mixed and mingled guitar lines -- as potent as Duane did all those years ago on the Derek and the Dominos album that ultimately gave Derek his name. Like Eric and George Harrison on "While My Guitar Gently Weeps."

Speaking of weeping, when that ended, I wasn't nearly ready for the power of "Little Wing," so there was weeping to be sure. And then the BIG surprise "In Memory of Elizabeth Reed." Another ABB song that EC immersed himself in so completely, providing mesmerizing bits within the context of the very prized slice of Allman history. Went along so well with what Derek and Warren Haynes and Gregg Allman and co. were doing.

And the band got to repay the favor on the encore -- "Layla." I was expecting it to sort of soar, with the intertwining lines on "Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad" intimated that it might, but the Allmans have developed their own blissful take on it -- simple but majestic. Derek took off solo for the instrumental segment and didn't really need to relinquish the reins.

After the show, Park and visiting Doc Proc tried to make sense of what we just watched. The most obvious comparison was to the "Blind Faith" reunion with Steve Winwood last year. It's a little bit apples and oranges, but when you get down to the crux of it for me, Derek and the Dominos was my fave era in EC history. So if you're going to perform material at that high level, well it's like being in the original Fillmore East when that music was at its peak.

And for that reason, I would say that is the strongest performance that I've ever seen.

So the issue becomes, you have a show the next day. It's a show that you've seen once and that doesn't really alter in the way guitar solos tend to completely change the mood of a Clapton show.

But there were enticements expected to spice up the proceedings, notably the pre-show meet and greet with band founder Mick Fleetwood. The show was taking place at the ... snort ... Izod Center, which I prefer to call the former Continental Airlines Arena. Now all but obliterated by the hideousness which is to become Xanadu -- high def. remains a XanaDON'T! -- I hadn't been there for a couple of years, after spending at least a couple days a week there in the Devils' final season at the arena.

We got treated like royalty from the moment we got there. Free drinks, ability to purchase merchandise at a table in the room and very attentive service. Then we were off to the stage! Standing on the stage looking out, the arena looked very small. I set down my stuff just to the right of Lindsey Buckingham's pedals. 'ark was apoplectic. See?

Mick came out, started talking and signing for everyone. 'Ark's "condition" manifested itself at my expense as he winkingly claimed that I was a nouveau Mac fan culled from Buckingham and Nicks' arrival. Everyone -- including Mick -- laughed. I doth protested. Everyone -- including Mick -- laughed. Since my question involved Mick bringing his sultry eponymous blues band to "the mainland" and I also referenced "Oh Well," an early Mac hit that was the highlight of the Pittsburgh show for me, 'Ark said I shouldn't worry that Mick really got the wrong impression. Sigh. That isn't over.

But there wasn't time to dwell. Mick said his good-byes and we went back to the pre-show party for catered food (I had chicken, 'Ark had three helpings of ziti) and a trivia contest. 'Ark warned that I get competitive, and yeah, I was a little. When a multiple choice question asked where Mick first heard of Lindsey and Stevie, I didn't only provide the answer: d.) a studio but went for bonus credit by adding "Frozen Love" was the song being played at that time. With only one answer wrong (dang!), we tied for the win and each got a John McVie guitar pick, sweet!

Oh yeah, we still have a show to go to! Our tickets had us in the second row. We all had five-star access laminated passes and walked to our seats, feeling green eyes upon us. There we also got a pink wristband, this meant we could go up to the stage whenever we wanted and would never be told to sit down by beret-throwing party poopers behind us.

The lights go down and we position ourselves right at the foot of Lindsey's monitor! Stood there all bloody night too. Well 'ark stood. I boogied, clapped, whooped, hollered, cheered, whirling dervished, et al. (The video clips are examples of my work, gleaned from a fan on the other side of the stage. I'm the tiny dancer. Mark's orange shirt pops into view as well.) I loved "Monday Morning," "Go Insane," "Second Hand News" and "Oh Well" as much as in Pittsburgh and was blown away to see Lindsey's intricate guitar work on "Big Love" and "Never Going Back Again" a couple of feet from my face.

Stevie was even in better voice on "Gypsy," "Rhiannon," "Storms" and "Gold Dust Woman." John's bass spirited us all along, particularly on "Dreams" and "The Chain," and Mick was just smiling and pounding the crap out of his drums throughout. I even liked "Say You Love Me" -- a definitive Christine song.

OK, the pieces de resistance. Lindsey rocking out to "Stand Back," singing song lyrics when he wasn't in front of the mic. On "World Turning," in which Mick's drum solo ends with Lindsey vocal loops from the song, he mimicked his own voice "Iiiiiiii" several times in the darkness at stage left. As "Tusk" ended, he leaned close to the audience in the center. We could see two women just aching to reach out and touch him. As if an animal in a zoo. Guess that's appropriate with "Tusk." Finally one did and then the other, and he didn't recoil in horror but smiled broadly.

I sort of figured out that I was in his peripheral vision pretty much all night, when he looked down at his guitar strings, well, I was right below him jamming away. We had the simultaneous pogo going on during the chorus of "Go Your Own Way." But then ... the second verse of "Don't Stop," when Stevie's singing and he was looking at me from across his monitor ... he scrunches up his face at me in a way that I mirrored. I looked at 'ark, he was laughing heartily. That's in the above clip, and the moment comes right before the chorus, about 1:20 into the song. You can't see the face, but you can definitely see the lean, haha.

And after "Silver Springs," Lindsey looks out at the tens of thousands and thanks everyone for coming. And then ... and then, no joke... he came over near me said "Thank YOU" and blew a kiss to me. I half-smiled and then froze. Then turned around to make sure he was talking to me. Then I looked over at 'ark and he was all "Yes, that was for you!" Then my face crumpled and tears welled in my eyes. Being the considerate b/f he is, 'ark laughed at me. But I was gone. Gone, but aware enough to snag Lindsey's setlist, anyway!

But now what? We seriously have no idea. Not even about perceiving a particular direction.

Addendum to the story: Once our pro photos came over, I recalled that I forgot to add that Mick was helping me wear my scarf in our photo, and that our hostess was very intrigued by my vintage Mac rings. (See below)

Three concerts, two wins, one long road trip

2009-03-05T18:54:00.001-05:00

Park packed a LOT into three days -- Van Morrison performing the entire Astral Weeks album (and more!), the Devils avenging a shutout to the Panthers, Chris Duarte burning up Mexicali, Brodeur and the boys recording their second shutout in three games and Fleetwood Mac opening their tour on all cylinders. A little snowstorm couldn't touch that.

The fun started Friday unassumingly when I went to snare Jack Bruce tix at BB's and was treated to the sight of Robert Cray tuning up for his gig that night. We probably would have been at that show, but Van Morrison was dipping into the archives for my favorite trend, the complete album show.

He actually started the evening with a whole other set though, and as the last time I saw him was a pretty brief show one New Year's Eve many moons ago, I was knocked out by Van singing his way through all of it and not giving away his vocals like he did back then.

Van is always reinventing the song with his bit of a rambling vocal style akin to an R&B Bob Dylan, and he just kept hitting them out of the park -- from a striking "And It Stoned Me" to an unexpected and top-notch "Comfortably Numb" to "Common One," which found him trading lyrics with his main sideman -- to the point that it cracked the Man up.

After the first set and a short break, Van and the band (with strings, minus some backup singers and guitarists) brought the elegant, soulful "Astral Weeks" to life. I came in to it knowing the album and 'ark hadn't before hearing it the week before, but it didn't matter either way as both of us wound up completely enthralled.

Next day, the Devils were playing early, so we figured we could fit it in to the busy schedule. In the teams' last meeting in Florida, the Panthers blanked the Devs, 4-0. This was complete reversal, the Devils looked totally sharp and Florida totally not. It helped that the Panthers' starting goalie couldn't play, so Craig Anderssson had to man the net for the whole 7-2 shellacking.

That night we went to Mexicali Live, and Chris Duarte just scorched the place like an electric jalapeno. He's got a wide array of interests and the guitar arsenal to back it up, so he can deliver Hendrix as well as alternative Soul Coughing -- spinning it through his unique filter. Like 'ark says it's a crime that this guy ain't as well known as regional counterparts like Stevie Ray Vaughan and frequent Clapton sideman Doyle Bramhall II.

Between sets, he didn't disappear either. He sat at his merch table and posed for photos and appreciatively listened to babbling fan comments. I blathered to him something about how 'ark told me I'd really like him because Hendrix was a big influence of his. He had just come off a scintillating take on "Third Stone," but Chris said he'd try to work some Jimi in. Then he thought a second, chuckled and said, "Well I just did that, didn't I?"

On to Pittsburgh about seven hours away. We were getting regular text updates from the best sister-turned-fanatical hockey fan (I know, MY fault) going. Brodeur delivered his second shutout in three days in a 3-0 blanking of the Filthy Flyers! No way his ego is going to suffer for that one, right?

Of course we had the tunes cranked and were treated to a gorgeous sunset through the mountains while listening to Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood lift not only the roof off the Garden but the whole damn building during "Voodoo Chile" last February.

We had been toying with the idea of partaking of Le Big Mac -- ya know, Mac Attack and what not -- and were pretty much powerless when a sign popped up for the world's largest Big Mac. So we stopped there and shot this gargantuan burger in the city it was first created in. Of course, neither of us actually had a Royale with Cheese.

On to the show. When I had looked at the map back when I bought the tickets, it led me to believe we'd be about half an arena away, albeit in some nice club seats. But in actuality, the stage was a couple sections in front of the end of the ice and the seats were really spectacular.

As Unleashed has been billed as a "hits" show, I have to admit I was a little concerned on how it was going to play out. Completely unfounded. I might have known all the songs, but at the tour opener, the band just let it rip.

Starting with "Monday Morning" and "The Chain," they ran through a substantial chunk of the back history. Just coming off their own brief tours, Lindsey and Mick were ON. Lindsey's vocals were searing, and sort of pointed out a bit of Stevie's shortcomings. Not surprising she can't hit some of the power notes anymore, but she was just dazzling on "Gold Dust Woman" and one of the set's big surprises, the ballad "Storms" off of "Tusk."

Lindsey sped up "Go Insane," so it was more akin to the original version than the lengthened version he did on the band's last tour in 2003. "Second Hand News" benefited from Stevie's vocals, but we sort of prefer "Never Going Back Again" with just Lindsey.

Another big surprise, and my personal favorite of the night, was "Oh Well" -- a big hit for the band before the Buckingham Nicks era. 'Ark was pretty amused, he referred to me as a "whirling dervish" during the song. I had suffered a stiff neck for a couple days, and I think it helped work the kink out ... but 'ark fretted it could have ended up the other way with me in traction the next day.

Stevie and Lindsey performed "Landslide" on their own, and Stevie disarmingly missed her vocal cue because the audience was soaking it up. Speaking of that, "Stand Back" brought me back to the days of dancing in front of the TV and I got up to boogie with a couple of neighboring Chiffonheads (that's what the fans who are totally there to see and emulate Stevie are called).

That apparently was the last straw for the sourpuss sitting behind us. He had been kind of a pain through the whole show, imploring the girls (tiny little rail things, were they that bothersome?) to sit down starting with the second number. Usually fans just sort of come to an unspoken arrangement, we'll sit for long periods of time and get up when the music really moves us. 'ark had been eyeing him from the beginning, ready to defend my dancing honor, apparently.

So "Stand Back" ends and "Go Your Own Way" starts, and that's pretty much the international signal for anyone who is able to get up and dance to do just that. Sourpuss had had enough by the end of the song, he actually grabbed the crocheted beret off Chiffonhead No. 1's head and tossed it and then stormed out. Incredible, seriously.

(That's my camera phone view. Objects are much closer than they appear.) Ultimately, it didn't bother the rest of us, though. We stood the rest of the show for the anthemic "Don't Stop" (OK, we do miss Christine McVie, particularly on this and "Say You Love Me") and "World Turning." The band even came back for a second encore ... "Silver Springs," sigh. I have NO idea how Stevie can deliver the vocal chops needed in that number at the tail end of the set, but she did.

With the heavily scheduled front end of vacation over, we set out for Virginia with news of the serious snowfall blanketing the country. Luckily, all we really ran across was a light dusting and some flurries. And the journey came full circle too, as we picked up Van Morrison's Astral Weeks Live CD and listened to it on the final leg.