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