Incorrect Predictions About the Future

From a December 14, 1959 article in Time Magazine:

"I'd be a fool," said Corporal Elvis Presley last week, "not to pay some attention to it." The "it" he referred to was the word, which had filtered through to West Germany, that rock 'n' roll is suffering a disastrous decline. Newly sobered by the payola scandal, the nation's top jocks were acknowledging what everybody has suspected for some time—that their teen-age audience has begun to walk out on them...

Nick vs Fricke, and the art of the Dead show list

Recently there's been two high-profile rankings of top Grateful Dead shows: Nick Paumgarten's top 13 Dead show list on the New Yorker website, and David Fricke's top 20 Dead show list on the Rolling Stone website. They only have one show in common – 2/22/69 – but they share several best-Dead-show-list conventions with each other (and thousands of other best Dead show lists):

Dead show list convention	Nick (New Yorker)	Fricke (Rolling Stone)
A caveat about the impossibility of actually making a best Dead show list	“This isn’t to say that I think these are the best ones. Most of them are warty, in one way or another… Aficionados may prefer a gig a week or two earlier or later, and on some days, I might, too. But I love these. Or parts of them, anyway. So here, in chronological order…is a baker’s dozen: my thirteen essential, commercially ignored—some desert-island Dead.”	“Choosing and justifying a list of essential Grateful Dead shows – 20, 200 or even 2,000 – is treacherous work. Passionate challenge from fans, especially hardcore Deadheads and veteran tape traders, is guaranteed. Endless debate over set-list minutiae is inevitable. In fact, there is only one definitive list of the Dead's greatest concerts – and it includes every show they played, in every lineup, from their pizza-parlor-gig days as the Warlocks in 1965 until guitarist Jerry Garcia's death in 1995.”
Use of the word “primal” when talking about a 60’s show	Dream Bowl, Vallejo, Calif. 2/22/69 “The Warlocks became the Grateful Dead in 1965, but it took a few years for the band to find a voice. If 1968 was primal psychedelic Dead, 1969 was the apotheosis. There’s too much to choose from, though the set lists don’t vary much. The hall names have a mythical ring…”	The Matrix, San Francisco 12/1/66 “In late 1966, more than a year into their evolution, the Grateful Dead were still in the early stages of their psychedelia: an acid-dance band with bar-band aggression, tripping in its jams but just starting to write and largely reliant on folk and blues covers. These three sets at the Matrix – a club founded by Jefferson Airplane's Marty Balin – catch the original quintet in primal, exuberant form…”
Justification of decision not to include Cornell ’77	Buffalo Memorial Auditorium, Buffalo, N.Y. 5/9/77 “On the desert island next to mine, there’s a guy who brought along every show from May, 1977—including his Betty Board of the highly overrated May 8th Cornell gig (which, I’ll concede, features the definitive version of the disco rearrangement of “Dancin in the Streets”). I have room for only one: Buffalo.”	Winterland, San Francisco 6/9/77 “For sublime singing, instrumental union and sequencing bravado, there may be no greater sustained run of shows, certainly in the Keith-and-Donna years, than the Dead's spring '77 tour. Highlights are plentiful: Five concerts from one week in late May have come out on archival releases, and the May 8th show at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, is often cited in greatest-ever terms. But I keep coming back to this valedictory blast on home ground – the end of a three-night stand and the final gig of the tour – because of the second set.”
Including a show primarily on the merits of it’s Dark Star	Dane County Coliseum, Madison, Wisc. 2/15/73 “It’s the “Dark Star”-“Eyes of the World” that put Dane County on my life raft… The segue between the two songs, which includes (sin of sins) a bass solo, and then a Garcia-Lesh instrumental duet, and then a dreamy intro to “Eyes,” is like a psalm.”	Hampton Coliseum, Hampton, Virginia 10/9/89 “The second Hampton show, issued with October 8th in the 2010 box Formerly the Warlocks, is most notable for the return of "Dark Star" after five years…”
Singling out a show for it’s Phil-and-Bill-ness	Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Mich. 12/14/71 “The bass had a chunky tone that you could sit on, the one-drummer setup made the tempo brisk…”	Winterland, San Francisco 3/18/67 “Note the thrilling, slippery surge underneath – bassist Phil Lesh and drummer Bill Kreutzmann pushing and tugging at the beat.”
Acknowledgement of general mediocrity of the 80’s in 80’s show included	Greek Theatre, Berkeley, Calif. 7/13/84 “Garcia, often AWOL in 1984, comes to play. The synthy keyboards may frighten off “Alligator” fans, but let’s not forget this was the era of Wham!... You’re not in 1969 anymore, but still, a taste of the old magic.”	Civic Center, Augusta, Maine , 10/12/84 “The Eighties were an uneven decade for the Dead. There was new blood: keyboard player Brent Mydland. But Garcia was in perilous health, and studio recording lapsed after 1980's Go to Heaven… Through it all, the Dead toured as if their survival depended on it – which it always did – and played fondly remembered gigs, often off the beaten track.
Show with a personal connection that might not otherwise be included:	Fox Theater, Atlanta 11/30/80 Although Nick doesn’t explicitly mention it, he was a member of a private school club that listened to the second set of this show every day. He just describes it as, “an old cult favorite” – but I have to ask, is this show better than Cornell ’77?	Madison Square Garden, NYC 9/14/91 At least Fricke fesses up: “This was my next-to-last night with the Dead … This was not a historic gig. It's a treasured piece of my connection to a band” – but again I have to ask, is this show better than Cornell ’77?

Re-ac-tion

My first reaction to the recent interview with Crazy Horse guitarist Frank "Poncho" Sampredo on the Rolling Stone website: it's awesome that he wants to revive a song from the "experimental" years:

Q: You play on Trans. What are your memories of that project?

A: Well, that was a record where we did a lot of recording, and then Neil became involved with a program for his son Ben. He had to do a lot of physical activity with different nurses and helpers. He kind of got lost in time and couldn't have us there all the time. He ended up getting a synclavier and going back and overdubbing a lot of those tracks. A lot of times we weren't there for all that crazy stuff that went on. We came back up and listened to it and were like, "Wow, what did you do?" [Laughs]

Q: Did you like it?

A: I liked that record. I was talking about doing "We R in Control." It would be fun trying to do that song now. I think we could play it really good.

My second reaction: wait, no really, that would be awesome:

The Vegetables

I've recently been re-reading Hammer of the Gods (one of my favorite things in the world to do), and I was reminded of this primo piece of bullshit:

"We could have called ourselves the Vegetables or the Potatoes... What does Led Zeppelin mean? It doesn't mean a thing." -Jimmy Page

I mean, can you imagine:
 
 or
 

Scarlet sans Fire, and Fire free of Scarlet

As I wrote yesterday, on March 18, 1977 (36 years ago to the day),’Scarlet Begonias’ and ‘Fire on the Mountain‘ were played together for the first time ever. After their initial coupling they were played together a total of 254 times, and the song combo wormed its way into every good Head’s subconscious.

What interests me now, however, is the relatively rare occasions after the initial coupling on which Scarlet was played alone, or Fire was played alone.

SCARLETS SANS FIRE
Prior to their coupling, Scarlet was of course played by itself a lot (48 times to be exact), but I’m on focusing on the odd post-coupling singularities. Here’s a list of all the solo Scarlets post-3/18/77 (26 in all):

Date of Show	The Situation
3/20/77	A couple days after the initial coupling, Scarlet appears by itself again for a brief moment, tucked away at the end of the first set
4/29/77	At the Palladium in NYC, the boys decide to throw NYC a curveball, and go from Scarlet into ‘Going Down the Road Feeling Bad’
4/18/78	After faking a Fire transition, Jerry decides to go into an alternate “Mutron” special: ‘Dancing in the Streets’
5/8/84	It’s been 6 years since the last time Scarlet hasn’t lead into Fire, but tonight Jerry decides to go into ‘Touch of Grey’
6/12/84	Again into Touch
6/29/84	This is becoming a habit – again into Touch
3/22/85	After faithfully going back into Fire for the rest of 84 (well actually, there were a couple Scarlet->Touch->Fire sandwiches in late 84, but at least they end up back at Fire’s house, if you know what I mean), in this early 85 show, they decide to go from Scarlet into ‘Hell in a Bucket’
4/27/85	Whoa, Scarlet into Eyes
8/30/85	Scarlet -> Touch
10/28/85	Scarlet -> Touch
3/25/86	Scarlet -> Touch
7/24/87	Bob Dylan’s presence threw them off, and they went from Bucket into Scarlet
9/16/87	At MSG, now Touch into Scarlet
11/6/87	Scarlet -> Bucket
12/30/87	Scarlet into Samson and Delilah
4/7/88	At treat for Philly fans at the Spectrum: Sugar Mag -> Scarlet -> Estimated
6/22/88	Scarlet -> I will Take You Home (Ironic, because Fire would like you to come home)
2/6/89	Bucket>Scarlet->Looks Like Rain
6/21/89	Scarlet->Bucket
7/18/89	Sugar Mag -> Scarlet -> Women Are Smarter
10/1/89	Bucket -> Scarlet -> Women Are Smarter
10/14/89	In one of the true gems of a late 80’s show: Scarlet->Truckin’
12/6/89	Scarlet -> Sugar Mag
3/16/90	Scarlet -> Estimated
4/3/90	Estimated->Scarlet->Crazy Fingers
7/16/90	Sugar Mag -> Scarlet -> Women Are Smarter

FIRE FREE OF SCARLET

The less independent of the two, Fire only came out on it’s own a total of 12 times:

Date of Show	The Situation
9/16/78	Egypt messes with the Boys’ heads, and for the first time they play Fire with no Scarlet. Officially it’s Ollin Arrageed -> Fire
11/24/78	Back in the States, but with a guest musician from Egypt, the boys do Shakedown -> Drums -> Ollin Arrageed -> Fire
10/31/80	Trick or Treat! Al Franken freaks everyone out, the boys do Franklins->Drums-> Fire, which appears on Dead Set
7/13/85	A rare weekend evening alone: One More Saturday Night -> Fire
6/22/86	At the Greek, treating the faithful: the second set opens with Fire and goes into Samson and Delilah
7/4/86	Happy Bday America! Cold Rain & Snow -> Fire -> Samson and Delilah
9/8/87	Bucket -> Fire
9/24/87	Bucket -> Fire -> Drums
5/27/89	Bucket -> Fire
9/20/91	Whoa! Help->Slip->Fire
5/27/93	Please spare me: Picasso Moon -> Fire -> Wave to the Wind
7/3/94	The last time Scarlet and Fire were separated: Eyes -> Fire

And for those of you who just can’t bear to think of this magical couple being separated, here’s one very deadicated website's list of top ten Scarlet->Fires: http://gratefuldeadprojects.com/Scarlet_Begonias_Fire.html

36 Years Ago Today: The First Ever ‘Scarlet->Fire’

On March 18, 1977, the Grateful Dead played two particular songs together for the first time in concert, creating a magical pairing that would go on to fuel thousands of baked road trips, launch the dreams of innumerable jam bands, and become forever known as ‘Scarlet->Fire’.

‘Scarlet Begonias’, the older sibling of the two, had a long life before it’s coupling with ‘Fire on the Mountain’. It was recorded in the studio in March 1974 and officially released a couple months later on the ‘From the Mars Hotel’ album (for the conspiracy-minded out there: the official cut happens to be exactly 4 minutes and 20 seconds long). It was first performed live in early 1974 and went on to be played 48 times on it’s own before being joined to ‘Fire’.

‘Fire on the Mountain’, on the other hand, never knew life without its kinsman. Its live debut was during the March 18, 1977 show as part of the first ‘Scarlet-Fire’ combination. It was one of the few Dead songs composed by drummer Mickey Hart, and wasn’t released until a year after it’s debut, on the semi-controversial ‘Shakedown Street’ album (which in a Dylan-goes-electric-type moment, caused long-time Deadheads to accuse the band of what was back then the worst crime imaginable: “going disco”).

After March 18, 1977, the two songs were almost always (but not without exception) played side-by-side. They appeared together in a total of 254 Dead shows. At its best, the song combo became an occasion for some of Jerry’s finest uninterrupted soloing, floating atop some of the Rhythm Devil’s most playful drumming, accompanied by Donna’s best wailing.

 The transition from one song to another in itself became an object of worship among Deadheads. The Fox’s Den, for example, was a club at St. Paul’s school in New Hampshire that was devoted to a particular version of Scarlet->Fire from 1980, and had as one of it’s Four Commandments, “Thou shalt not press pause, stop, fast-forward, or rewind during the transition.” Garcia himself was aware of the magic of these transitional moments. He told an interviewer in 1988 that often “the transition itself would be a piece of music.” Although even he had to admit that after hundreds of times played together, even transitions as titanic as Scarlet-Fire lost some of their juice. “It’s not that the transitional music doesn’t exist anymore. It’s just that we’ve worn the pathways.”

 Hear its debut on March 18, 1977 here:
http://archive.org/details/gd1977-03-18.sbd.clugston.254-patch.79098.shnf

(Why celebrate its 36th anniversary? Honestly, when I sat down to write this post I had done the math wrong and thought it was its 35th anniversary. Then my wife pointed out my mistake. I guess that's what you get for a lifetime of listening to the Dead baked out of your skull...)

Worst Workout Songs - New and Improved!

By popular demand, expanded my list of the worst workout songs for a Hidden Track B-List.

Perhaps the Most Amazing Thing I've Ever Seen

Thank you internet! Drop everything you're doing right now and watch the video in this post: http://dangerousminds.net/comments/future_shock_james_browns_very_70s_tv_dance_party

Worst Rock Songs to Workout To

According to NPR, 4 out of 5 of the people who buy gym memberships as part of their News Year’s resolution stop going within a couple of months. In order to help you avoid a similar fate, I’m giving you a list of songs that you absolutely must not put on your ipod as you prepare to head to the elliptical:

Revolution #9 - The Beatles

-

What Became of the Baby – Grateful Dead

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Chushingura - Jefferson Airplane

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The Needle and the Damage Done - Neil Young

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Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun – Pink Floyd

Winter

I can't quite explain why I love this drawing of Johnny Winter, found in the latest New Yorker, so much:
 

The Beans Rooftop Concert

Since it's that time of year, consider this a stocking-stuffer personally for you, probably the best thing to happen in 2012:

OneRepublic's TwoContradictoryAttitudes About the Internet

In an interesting recent profile of the band OneRepublic in 5280 magazine, lead singer Ryan Tedder explained how the internet just barely saved the band after getting cut from their first label:

Losing the record deal was a devastating blow. Tedder told his wife, Genevieve, whom he had married just months before, that OneRepublic was done; that at 27 years old he was going to have to give up the dream. Instead he would continue producing music for other people, something he’d been doing on the side anyway. That night, Tedder typed Myspace.com/onerepublic into a Web browser to change the band’s status from “signed” to “unsigned.” Then, because he was no longer beholden to the label’s rules not to post songs online, he uploaded “Apologize” and “Stop and Stare.” For Tedder and Co., social media was a godsend. Within two months, OneRepublic was the number one unsigned act on Myspace, and the band quickly became one of the hottest independent acts in L.A. The guys scored a residency at the Key Club in West Hollywood, and, after three initial shows, the band sold out each subsequent concert. They were running out of T-shirts and CDs. They were signing autographs. They were being courted by promoters to play in Canada and Washington and Florida. But they still didn’t have a record deal. That’s when Tedder received a call from an old friend. Timbaland, the prominent hip-hop and R&B producer, wanted to sign OneRepublic to Interscope Records, the home of artists like U2, Sting, the Black Eyed Peas, and No Doubt.

A little later in the article, however, Tedder complains about how the internet makes life more difficult for his band:

The age of digital music has, according to Tedder, had a dramatic impact on the music industry for one primary reason: “When you buy one song,” Tedder says, “you don’t invest in the artist.” Before MP3s, he says, if you liked a song you heard on the radio, you had to buy the album. And because you bought the album, you were compelled to listen to it as a whole and found other nonsingle songs you loved. You found you liked the artist. When that artist came to town, you bought tickets for the concert. Because you went to the concert and loved it, you were a fan for life. You bought the next album and the next album—maybe without even hearing a single on the radio to prompt you. The ability to just buy one song from iTunes has, in Tedder’s mind, done two things. One, it has erased the days when teenagers and college kids obsessed over music, lying on their beds listening to an album from beginning to end, in favor of making music background noise they sort of listen to through earbuds while walking to class. And two, downloadability has shortened the lifespan of artists. “One successful single could sell three million copies and make a band culturally significant for nine months,” he says. “But because hardly anyone bought the album, that artist has zero long-term fans.”

So I guess the internet is a godsend to aspiring rock super-stars, except when it isn't...

Return of the Road-Eyes

Since the announcement a couple of weeks ago that Disney bought the Star Wars franchise and will be making new Star Wars movies soon, speculation has been running rampant about who might write and direct. Shouldn't it be obvious? Judging by these clips from Rust Never Sleeps:

Neil Young and The Road Eyes 1
and
Neil Young and The Road Eyes 2

 (not to mention the movie poster) it should almost certainly be one Bernard Shakey…

Is Romney politics’ "Jesse"?

People may argue with me on this, but I think that one of the main reasons that Mitt Romney is our country's Republican nominee for president is that he had the deep pockets to promote himself for the years running up to his nomination. So I couldn't help but think of Romney when I recently re-read Fredric Dannen's classic book on the music industry, Hit Men, and came across the following passage about "The Network" (i.e. a group of so-called 'indie promoters' who bribed radio station managers to play their clients' songs):

For all its power, the Network could not make a hit record. No one could do that except the marketplace. You could saturate the airwaves with an uncommercial song and have some moderate success, but in the end you could not force people to buy a record they did not like. It is easy to find examples of “turntable” hits: records that got load of airplay but did not sell. Consider Carly Simon’s hit single “Jesse”, on Warner Bros. Records. Said an executive at a competing label, “’Jesse’ is legendary as one of the most expensive singles of all time in the amount of indie promotion money spent on it. I don’t know the actual number, but if you told me $300,000, I wouldn’t blink. The amusing thing is, it was top ten, it got a lot of airplay, but they didn’t sell any albums. It was perceived as a hit record. But the album was a stiff. So was it a successful project? Not for anybody except for the independent promoters. You can’t blame them for taking the money.”

So on November 6 it seems we will learn if Romney is the political world's equivalent of Carly Simon's "Jesse", or the real deal, more like Michael Jackson's Thriller, say, which became a hit not only because it received a ton of promo money (about $100,000 per single, according to an Epic exec quoted in Dannen's book), but also because it really was one of the best records of all time…

The Horrible Toll of Hurricane Sandy: the Skynyrd Cruise

Just when we thought we'd arrived at the final tally of Sandy's destruction, more dreadful developments come to light. Oh, the horror.

Phish vs the Dead: Halloween

For this installment, we compare the venerable jammies on their approach to All Hallows’ Eve.

Criteria: Halloween

The Dead: The Dead never made too much fuss over Halloween. They played about 12 Halloween shows (the early years are fuzzy).  Occasionally they broke out "Werewolves in London". Perhaps unconsciously they paid tribute to the ghoulish spirits in the air by using the night to kill off some favorite tunes: the last performance of "Viola Lee Blues" was on Halloween 1970, the last "St. Stephen" was Halloween 1983, and the last "Lazy Lightning" was Halloween 1984.  Probably the highlights were the 1991 performance of "Dark Star" in honor of the late Bill Graham, replete with a reading from Ken Kesey, and the Halloween show during the 1980 run at Radio City Music Hall. Although the overall 1980 run was beset by problems -- a rowdy crowd that drew the ire of the authorities, a Nar-Anon-ready road crew that beat up Jerry's East Coast dope dealer, a lawsuit from the Radio City management because of an imagined insult -- the Halloween show itself was blazingly well-played, simulcast on television, and featured comedy skits by Al Franken and Tom Davis:

http://youtu.be/alO2cUYs-6g

 (more Franken and Davis at Radio City here: http://youtu.be/FZiy0A1eEU8; http://youtu.be/KldqYNV2Hwg; http://youtu.be/7oBwGzGlTlY; http://youtu.be/LE6Ro9LHqvI)

Phish: From the get go, Phish took to Halloween like a drunken Zombie Cowboy to a friendly Sexy Nurse.  Their very first Halloween show contained the debut of a song that would become an all-time fan favorite: "David Bowie". Their second featured Fishman shaving off all his body hair. Their third Halloween included Trey wearing devil horns, latex pants, and strap-on breasts. Their fourth and fifth featured costume contests, the latter year's resulting in a generous first prize (free admission to all Phish shows for an entire year) being awarded to one "Captain Bong Hit". And then in 1994, they blew the doors off. They came up with the idea of a 'musical costume', i.e. pretending to be another band for the night (or at least a set), and playing a complete album of their tunes. In 1994 they played the Beatle's White Album. In 1995, it was The Who's Quadrophenia (going as far as destroying their instruments at the end of the night). In 1996, it was the Talking Head's Remain in Light (no word if they tried to host PBS shows or write op-eds about transportation policy at the end of the evening). In 1998 it was Velvet Underground's Loaded (which according to many reports younger members of the audience didn't even recognize: shame on you, Millennials!!!!). Then they took a ten year break from Halloween -- returning in 2009 with the Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street and in 2010 with Little Feat's Waiting for Columbus -- but the idea had already taken hold in popular culture, becoming a tradition in its own right.

Analysis: Learning a new album every time? Phish kicks the Dead's ass when it comes to Halloween. 

This round: Phish Tally so far: Dead 3, Phish 2

Red Rocks, 30 Years Later: Dead ’82 vs Furthur ‘12

Last night Furthur played the last show of a three night run at Red Rocks. 30 years ago, the Grateful Dead also played a three show run at Red Rocks. Here’s a comparison of the setlists: Random notes:

• Both bands encored their first night with U.S. Blues.
• Unlike Furthur, the Dead did not play Dear Mr. Fantasy at Red Rocks in 1982, but they did choose Red Rocks as the venue to debut it two years later (during another three night run in 1984).
• Surprisingly, the Dead did not play Scarlet – Fire on their three day run in ‘82 (but they did play it on their ‘78, ‘83, ‘84 and ‘85 runs).
• Furthur delivered something many heads wished they saw back in the day: Dark Star at Red Rocks (The Dead never played it at what many thought would be the perfect venue for it)
• Both bands played Shakedown Street, which seems appropriate: Shakedown Street was debuted at Red Rocks on 8/31/78 (the first Dead Red Rocks show).
• On the last night of Furthur's run, the first letter of the first 13 songs spelled out "Steal Your Face" (Samson & Delilah, Tennessee Jed, Easy Wind, Alabama Getaway, Loose Lucy, You Win Again, Operator, Uncle John's Band, Reuben & Cherise > Feel Like A Stranger, Alligator > Cumberland Blues, Eyes of the World)
• On the lat night of the Dead's run, the first letter of the first 13 songs spelled out "Nfclftlmcscid"

Last Night’s Neil Young Show at Red Rocks

Neil Young looks like he slipped the Crypt-keeper some gold to be let out of the underworld for a few hours. I mean that as the highest compliment. He and his band, Crazy Horse, have gotten to the age, after decades of rock and roll abuse, where they resemble not so much the pretty “vampires” we have grown used to from the likes of Twilight and True Blood, but rather the real deal: charnel-hungry, bloodthirsty, undead monsters.

I’ve come to think of America’s best inventions, including rock and roll, as the history of human endeavor jacked up on fossil fuels, the result of America’s genius for figuring out how to use the power trapped inside oil to enhance every known activity. A car is just a horse carriage on oil. Likewise with electric lights and candles, washing machines and washboards, computers and abaci, etc. Similarly, rock and roll, at its core, is folk music electrified and amplified to previously unachievable volumes. Neil Young seems to get this.

Young plays using not just the amps on stage, but the entire 500,000-watt PA system at his disposable. He and Crazy Horse create a beautiful, loud, thick wall of electric sound, which he periodically cuts through with piercing solos like a man wielding a jackhammer. Young was never a precision player, and that penchant suits him well now. Whereas other aging rockers struggle to replicate the intricate, proggy licks of their youth, Young takes his beautifully simple riffs and plays the hell out of them. He is not afraid to jam -- really jam, going out there farther and weirder than I’ve seen any other rocker do in years -- and in that pursuit he stomps on pedals, does his signature lurch, and strangles the neck of “Old Black”, his trademark black Les Paul with the rare, but crucial for Young, Bigsby vibrato arm.

It’s clear from last night’s show at Red Rocks that this tour is no lazy cash-in. It felt more like a demonstration of everything Young has learned from his decades of experimentation, his many tours with Crazy Horse, and his frequent left turns. He approached the tunes like a wise, old, rock wizard, showing you how he takes common ingredients and creates stunning magic. It would be tempting to call what he produced garage rock due to its simplicity, but no garage would be able to survive this high-decibel assault.

My only complaint is I would’ve liked to have heard more of the all-time classics. A majority of the show was new (or new-ish) and lesser-known tunes. I would’ve killed, for instance, to hear “Cortez the Killer”. But that complaint feels trivial when afforded the privilege of witnessing a display of such pure rock awesomeness. If playing new tunes is how Young keeps it fresh for himself and maintains his mastery, then who am I to quibble? Besides, the new tunes are pleasingly familiar. As Neil himself quipped before playing one of them, “Now, be nice to this next song. It’s a new one. But it sounds exactly like an old one.”

In between the beauty, Young engaged in a higher than average amount of stage banter – which is to say, he made a few gnomic utterances here and there. He bemoaned the inaccuracy of twitter posts about his shows (“Don’t believe everything you read. They get the titles of the songs wrong.”), made a few jokes (introducing Cinnamon Girl with “I wrote this next one this morning”), and asked the band if they had ever played Red Rocks before (the band couldn’t come up with a definitive answer). He acknowledged his gabbiness later in the evening. by saying “I’m talking a lot tonight. You know what that means?... I’m nervous… I’m stressed out… Let me know how we’re doing.”

Just fine, Neil. You’re doing just fine.

 ---
Caveat: all the stage quotes are from memory. And in full journalistic disclosure: I was high off a particularly potent strain of Colorado’s medicinal wonder. Normally I wouldn’t feel this need to divulge this, but after John Lehrer got pilloried for misquoting Dylan, all of us bloggers are starting to get nervous… -Ed

If You Need Help Naming Your Band, Part 6

Band Names Rejected by the Smashing Pumpkins: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/8RyanVaughan.html

"A Sheep Trying to Seduce a Telephone Pole"

Classic review of Zeppelin's movie The Song Remains the Same from the New York Times 10/21/76:

SCREEN: SONG ‘REMAINS THE SAME’ Zeppelin’s Rock Pulverizes Eardrums at Cinema I By Richard Eder New York Times October 21, 1976 The Song Remains the Same is a movie to listen to Led Zeppelin by. If you want to listen to Led Zeppelin. If you don’t, there’s not point going. If you do, it’s still a dubious proposition. Certainly the sound system at the Cinema I Theater, where it opened yesterday, does full justice to the decibels. Even using the squashed-up balls of paper napkin recommended by a knowledgeable member of the newspaper’s music staff, it was loud. Powered ear-drum floated about. Presumably, though, putting this British rock group in a movie was intended to be the equivalent not of listening to their records but of attending one of their concerts. This is very hard to do on film: We miss the immediacy, the sense of physical presence, and even, to an extend, physical peril. The power of a mass audience to communicate excitement is absent. To make up for this, the film intercuts a variety of scenes while each of the 13 numbers in being performed. A few are more or less realistic – a sequence outside Madison Square Garden, an argument between the group’s manager and a Garden official – and others are fantasy. Members of the group put on cloaks, ride around on horses, stand in the moonlight. They are pseudodreams, like the unconvinced artwork on rock record jackets. The scenes showing the group performing are more informative though not much more powerful. They are dominated by the singer, Robert Plant. A great mass of yellow curls tumbling around his shoulders, Mr. Plant sashays around the stage, posturing, pouting, and conducting a meaningful relationship with a microphone. It looks like a sheep trying to seduce a telephone pole. Possibly this is what led to a PG (Parental Guidance suggested) rating. For the first two-thirds – which was all this reviewer stayed – there seemed to be no other particular threat to the future adults in a stone-deaf civilization.