My track-by-track tales follow the bare-bones list.
1. Rush, The Main Monkey Business
2. Rush, The Seeker
3. The Rolling Stones, Stop Breaking Down
4. The Rolling Stones, No Spare Parts
5. Deep Purple, Anthem
6. Chicago, Prelude To Aire/Aire
7. The Moody Blues, The Actor
8. The Silkie, You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away
9. Billy Joel, Until The Night
10. The Kinks, Supersonic Rocket Ship
11. Montrose, Space Station #5
12. Pink Floyd, Is There Anybody Out There?
13. Heart, Soul Of The Sea
14. John Mayall, Possessive Emotions
15. Headstones, Pretty Little Death Song
16. Bruce Springsteen, Johnny 99
17. John Mellencamp, The Full Catastrophe
18. Tom Wilson, What A Bummer
19. Bob Dylan, Man Of Constant Sorrow
20. The Specials, Maggie’s Farm
21. Gerry Groom, Mick Taylor And Friends, Long Distance Call
My track-by-track tales:
1. Rush, The Main Monkey Business . . . Hard-driving and heavy in spots yet melodic throughout, this six-minute instrumental highlights Rush’s technical prowess. Described by drummer Neil Peart as “a tour-de-force to write, arrange, and perform” it’s one of three instrumentals – the most ever on a Rush album – from the 2007 release Snakes & Arrows.
2. Rush, The Seeker . . . One of my favorite Who tracks faithfully done by Rush on the covers EP Feedback, released in 2004 to mark the 30th anniversary of the band’s self-titled debut album. That record featured original drummer John Rutsey, replaced by Neil Peart the same year, 1974.
Covering songs like The Seeker and others on the EP like Summertime Blues (in the Blue Cheer arrangement of the Eddie Cochran song) and Cream’s fiery take on Robert Johnson’s Crossroads might seem at first glance a departure given Rush’s progressive (albeit often hard rock) leanings. But as Peart points out in the Feedback liner notes, the songs Rush covered were ones he, bassist/lead singer Geddy Lee and guitarist Alex Lifeson grew up learning and playing in their pre-Rush formative years/bands. And musically, the 1974 debut album was influenced by bands like The Who, Cream and Led Zeppelin, although Rush soon ventured down trails blazed by such British prog rock bands as Yes, Genesis and Pink Floyd.
Members of Rush have suggested in various interviews that they were recharged by the simpler approach taken for the type of songs on Feedback. It inspired them as a working template for their next full studio album, Snakes & Arrows, from which I drew for The Main Monkey Business set opener. Snakes & Arrows is still a typical Rush album in the sense of it having progressive rock elements but I’m forever fascinated by the creative process. For Rush, that included Lifeson meeting Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour during a Gilmour tour stop in Toronto. Gilmour recommended writing songs on an acoustic guitar to best test a song’s strength. The suggestion earned Gilmour a ‘thank you’ from Lifeson in the Snakes & Arrows liner notes.
3. The Rolling Stones, Stop Breaking Down . . . The greatest gift my favorite band gave me besides their own original music is the fact they were rooted in the blues. That sent me down paths in pursuit of the amazing artists who had inspired – and been covered by – the Stones as on Robert Johnson’s renowned piece as interpreted to typically raunchy electrified effect on Exile On Main St.
4. The Rolling Stones, No Spare Parts . . . A country rock road-trip tune done during the sessions for 1978’s Some Girls album. It was dressed up with some new lyrics and vocals by Mick Jagger and came out in 2011 on the bonus disc of previously unreleased material on an expanded reissue of Some Girls.
“The idea for the song began at the Some Girls sessions,” Jagger is quoted in the book The Rolling Stones All The Songs – The Story Behind Every Track. “but I finished the idea and turned it into a complete piece. It’s all about driving from San Antonio to Los Angeles to meet a woman, which I did once, so it’s based on my own experience.”
5. Deep Purple, Anthem . . . Psychedelic, progressive, orchestral, classical, rock. This track from 1968’s The Book Of Taliesyn, the second of the three albums released by the first incarnation of Deep Purple, is all of those things. But aside from the hit single Hush, the lineup featuring Rod Evans on lead vocals and Nick Simper on bass along with guitarist Ritchie Blackmore, drummer Ian Paice and keyboardist Jon Lord is largely underappreciated by if not unknown to casual listeners and none of the three albums made much, if any, dent in the charts. To many, Deep Purple really began in 1970 when singer Ian Gillan and bassist Roger Glover joined the group for the so-called Mark II unit that debuted with the In Rock album, later went on to record Smoke On The Water and is widely considered the classic lineup. I’m not disputing that but the other ‘Marks’ in the band’s long career – including the various periods with singer David Coverdale, singer/bassist Glenn Hughes and guitarists Tommy Bolin, Steve Morse and new axeman Simon McBride – are worthy of investigation as most, er, deeply invested fans appreciate.
6. Chicago, Prelude To Aire/Aire . . . It was February 24th, interestingly enough given today is March 24th, when I played the 10-minute instrumental jazz-rock fusion piece Devil’s Sweet from 1974’s Chicago VII album that featured the hit singles (I’ve Been) Searchin’ So Long, Wishing You Were Here and Call On Me. At the time, I couldn’t decide between Devil’s Sweet and Prelude To Aire/Aire. So here’s that other option, two pieces totalling nearly 10 minutes and best heard, via direct segue, as one. It opened the album and, with Devil’s Sweet, formed an all-instrumental jazz/progressive rock fusion side one on the original vinyl of the double LP. Like Devil’s Sweet, Prelude To Aire is driven by Danny Seraphine’s drumming before the band more fully joins him nearly three minutes later on Aire, featuring Chicago’s typical for that period intricate horn arrangements and the late great Terry Kath’s guitar. As I wrote a month ago about Devil’s Sweet, it’s a universe away from the schlock show, albeit a commercially successful schlock show, Chicago later became.
7. The Moody Blues, The Actor . . . Beautiful, introspective ballad from In Search of the Lost Chord, released in 1968. A typically lush Moody Blues arrangement featuring the interesting instruments in the band’s arsenal including Mellotron and flute supporting Justin Hayward’s delicate, almost plaintive vocals as he either waits for, or just thinks about, his absent – or former – lover on a rainy day. But who knows? Beyond the obvious, lyrically, songs can be interpreted in as many ways as they have listeners. Which is as it should be, arguably, and also why for me it’s usually music first, or at least at first, lyrics second because if the music isn’t enough to draw you in, you’ll never listen to the lyrics.
8. The Silkie, You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away . . . Here’s one that randomly found a spot in the set after I picked up a “British Invasion” compilation while putting CDs back on my shelves. A Beatles’ cover, faithful if softer than the original, released around the same time as the Fab Four’s version on their 1965 album Help! John Lennon and Paul McCartney produced what became the only chart hit – unsurprisingly given the Beatles’ popularity – for The Silkie, an English folk group along the lines of American act Peter, Paul and Mary.
9. Billy Joel, Until The Night . . . From 1978’s 52nd Street, the almost equally-successful in sales followup to Joel’s blockbuster breakthrough 1977 album The Stranger. Apparently written as a tribute to The Righteous Brothers of You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ fame. It does have the feel of a Brothers’ song as written and/or produced by Phil Spector, who did the honors, using his famous Wall of Sound technique, on You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ and others by the duo. According to Wikipedia, one reviewer called Joel’s song “a schlock masterpiece.” Until The Night made No. 50 in the UK but wasn’t released as a single across the Atlantic, although it’s a fairly well-known track as is most of 52nd Street.
10. The Kinks, Supersonic Rocket Ship . . . As we lift off into the ‘spacey’ section of the set via this reggae/calypso tune from the 1972 album Everybody’s In Show-Biz. It was a top-20 hit in the UK but didn’t crack the top 100 elsewhere, sadly par for the course for songs from an album that also featured the brilliant single Celluloid Heroes which, ridiculously, didn’t chart anywhere. I’ll have to play ‘Heroes’ again sometime soon.
11. Montrose, Space Station #5 . . . Fifty seconds of floating in space via the atmospheric intro then you’re jolted from your reverie by the riff rock of guitarist Ronnie Montrose coupled with Sammy Hagar’s vocals. It’s from Montrose’s self-titled debut album, released in 1973. The platter was produced by Ted Templeman, which leads into one of those musical family tree tales. Templeman was later at the helm of many Van Halen albums including the 1978 debut where, the story goes, the band asked him to help achieve a sound akin to the first album by Montrose, some of whose songs an embyronic Van Halen had covered. Still later, of course, Sammy Hagar wound up fronting Van Halen after the first departure of lead singer David Lee Roth.
12. Pink Floyd, Is There Anybody Out There? . . . Eerie, minimalist piece from 1979’s The Wall, just the title repeated a few times – after an initial excerpt of dialogue from the old Gunsmoke TV western – followed by an acoustic/classical guitar solo. It’s often paired with the next song on the album, Nobody Home, but in this instance I was looking for the sparse, spooky effect of just the one song, hauntingly reinforcing the album’s concept of isolation.
13. Heart, Soul Of The Sea . . . An ethereal, mystical ballad that gets funky in spots, spoken-word in others, no real chorus or hook but that’s what makes it compelling over its six minutes, complete with sounds of the sea. It’s from Heart’s debut album, Dreamboat Annie, released in 1975 and featuring the singles Magic Man, Crazy On You and the title track.
14. John Mayall, Possessive Emotions . . . Funky blues from the 1970 album USA Union which always reminds me of my late older brother by eight years who I often cite because he introduced me in my pre-teen years to so much music – Cream, Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull . . . and John Mayall via USA Union. The album features former Canned Heat members Harvey Mandel (guitar) and Larry Taylor (bass) along with violinist Don “Sugarcane” Harris with Mayall on lead vocals, guitar, harmonica and keyboards. And no drums, as my brother pointed out to my initial disbelief. The album came during a period when the ever-experimenting if not innovative Mayall had, as he wrote in the liner notes to the 1969 live album The Turning Point, “decided to dispense with heavy lead guitar and drums, usually a ‘must’ for blues groups today” in an effort to “explore seldom-used areas within the framework of low-volume music.”
15. Headstones, Pretty Little Death Song . . . Into a dark period of the set, either by song title, lyrics or mood, opening with the Canadian band Headstones. Among my favorite artists, they work within the framework of high volume intensity, evidenced by this catchy riff rocker from the 1996 album Smile & Wave. I was prompted to play them when a friend advised me this week that he’d picked up a cheap used copy of The High Co$t Of Low Living, a 2005 album by Headstones’ lead singer (and actor) Hugh Dillon and his band The Redemption Choir.
16. Bruce Springsteen, Johnny 99 . . . A dark tale of a laid-off worker turning to violence, from Springsteen’s influential, stripped down, lo-fi album Nebraska, released in 1982. It’s just Springsteen, recorded at home on what initially were demos to be worked on by the E Street Band only to be released as a pure solo album when the band sessions failed to capture what Springsteen felt was the spirit of most of what he’d put on tape. It’s one of those creative accidents that can result in highly-acclaimed and lasting art. That said, several demos – Born In The U.S.A, Working On The Highway and Downbound Train – did work in full band treatment, emerging on Springsteen’s blockbuster 1984 album Born In The U.S.A.
17. John Mellencamp, The Full Catastrophe . . . A shufflling jazz/blues song with interesting instrumentation including violins and assorted horns, from the 1996 album Mr. Happy Go Lucky. Lyrically, it’s a reflection on the ups and downs of life inspired by a line by actor Anthony Quinn in the 1964 movie Zorba The Greek. Asked if he is married, Quinn (Zorba) replies: “Am I not a man? And is not a man stupid? I’m a man, so I’m married. Wife, children, house—everything. The full catastrophe.”
18. Tom Wilson, What A Bummer . . . Second song in the set inspired by the same friend who reminded me of the Headstones, in this case advising me he’d also purchased, used, Wilson’s album Planet Love, a 2001 release from which I pulled this hypnotic groove track. As often stated, I’m a big Wilson fan via his work with The Florida Razors, Junkhouse, Blackie and The Rodeo Kings, Lee Harvey Osmond and solo.
19. Bob Dylan, Man Of Constant Sorrow . . . My computer screen saver gives me time, date, weather, and current and historical news items and told me last week that it was 63 years ago, March 19, 1962, that Dylan’s self-titled debut album was released. So, I thought I’d play something from it. Dylan became one of the greatest-ever writers of original songs but his first album was comprised mainly of traditional folk and blues standards like Man Of Constant Sorrow. It’s been covered and reinterpreted by many artists including Rod Stewart, whose version was the first I heard. It was released on Stewart’s 1969 debut solo album An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down, retitled The Rod Stewart Album in North America.
20. The Specials, Maggie’s Farm . . . A ska reinvention, great rhythmic percussion/drumming, of the Bob Dylan classic from his 1965 album Bringing It All Back Home. Another of those choices that came to mind, like The Silkie cover of The Beatles’ You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away earlier in the set, while tidying CDs. In this case I was putting The Specials: The Singles Collection back on the shelf although now, along with the British Invasion compilation, it’s coming with me to the Radio Waterloo studio.
21. Gerry Groom, Mick Taylor And Friends, Long Distance Call . . . . Lengthy, soulful, acoustic blues treatment of the Muddy Waters classic by Groom and former Rolling Stone guitarist Taylor released on the 1991 album Once In A Blue Moon that, Stones’ completist that I am, I picked up somewhere along the way in my musical travels. The album also features drummer Matt Abts, who worked with Dickey Betts of The Allman Brothers Band during the 1980s and in 1994 was, along with guitarist Warren Haynes and bassist Allen Woody, a founding member of the Allmans’ offshoot Gov’t Mule and is, with Haynes, still a Mule member. Woody died, apparently of a heroin overdose, at age 44 in 2000. Groom, who according to the album liner notes died in a scuba diving accident in 1992, was a singer/guitarist from Florida about whom not much information is available other than he was a protege of Duane Allman’s and widely respected and admired within the blues community, having rubbed shoulders with the likes of Buddy Guy, Junior Wells, James Cotton and Willie Dixon.